We only ran three times while we were in Mexico. One of the runs was an early, 87 degree, sticky morning in Mazatlan. We ran with the locals along the beach. Many of them wore track suits and carried dumbbells. We didn't fit in, to say the least. Maybe it was the water bottles we carried. Many of the older gentlemen that passed us looked like very tough runners. We imagined they probably ran the Mazatlan marathon earlier in the year.
It is very hard to be a vegetarian in Mexico. I mostly ate mango, coconut, and avocado (I know, how awful is that?). In Mexico, like in many other places, fish is not classified as meat, so I often got offered fish dishes as a vegetarian option. It was so hot and humid that I was not very hungry, so this was not a big problem.
We also ventured into my aunt Martha's gym one morning. We did a spinning class, which was a heart exploding experience. The instructor kept yelling at us "Arriba!!!." At some point, I was so out of breath that I stopped translating for Eric, who by now figured that whenever the instructor yelled something, it meant "Go faster."
The winner was the 'Zumba' class we took at the same gym. I had never heard of Zumba before. It is similar to an aerobics class, except that it mostly consists of dancing fast paced Latin music. The teacher seemed to be possessed by the devil, judging by her convulsions at the beat of the latest Latin hits. Eric looked bewildered. Talking about cultural immersion. He later told me: "You know you owe me, right?." At least he had the excuse of being, ahem, white. But me? What could I say? I have been away for 12 years?
Talking about being away. While shopping in Mazatlan, the store owner told me "You have pretty good Spanish for being an American." That about did it for me. I can't rapidly gyrate my hips anymore, I don't eat meat (not even fish!), and apparently, I have an American accent.
Well, at least I can still eat hot chiles, like these ones...
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