Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Alida's Wide World of Sports

When I was about 5 years old, my mother signed me up for ballet.  I loved it at the time, and did it for a couple of years.  The shows were great, but I was very aware of the fact that two of my friends (sisters), were getting the lead roles in all the shows.  They were good, no doubt about it, but even at that age, I thought there were some connections being pulled, although I never voiced my opinion.  By the way, we are still friends, so the ballet issue didn’t affect our friendship.

One weekend, a gymnastics team came to our country club for a demonstration; I fell in love with the sport.  I was hypnotized watching a girl on the balanced beam, so I begged my mom to sign me up...and she did.  So long ballet, hello gymnastics!!  I’m not sure how often I practiced at first, but very quickly, I was practicing every day for 2 hours.  The gym wasn’t very nice and the equipment was quite old, it was the state gym inside a big coliseum where there were other sports facilities, but it was the only gymnastics place in Cali.  All types of people trained there, mostly low-income people, as it was very cheap.  I don’t mean to sound pretentious, just remember that I’m talking about Colombia, where many government and state funded programs are very poor (more so back then).  It was dark and a bit spooky, walking through this huge place was strange, there were very few people around.    It was also a bit far from home, my mom and a friend’s mom would carpool in order to make it more manageable.  Anyhow, I loved every minute of it!!

As a warm up, the coaches made us run up and down the stairs in the coliseum, we then practiced floor, beam, vault and bars, and more conditioning and weights at the end.  Every day, I would wake up with a sore muscle, it was just part of my life, a sign that I had trained hard the day before.  Funny enough, I truly enjoy that feeling today, being sore after a workout, feeling muscles that I didn't know I had.  I always had blisters in my hands (from the bars) and bruises in my legs (from the beam).  After some time, I became somewhat good at it, competed in meets between schools, won medals, and so on.  I was the only one from my school, so it was a bit sad (although I didn’t care) to see the school delegations walking out during the opening ceremony, and it was just me, alone, representing my school.  Gymnastics became my life, I competed in the Maccabi games in Toronto (did horribly), went to a gymnastics summer camp somewhere in Pennsylvania (8 hours of gymnastics every day, loved it!), watched every competition I could, and kept practicing every day for 2 hours.  I was a total tomboy, all I was interested in was gymnastics.  I didn’t care for dolls or boy bands (Menudo at the time).  


Then, when I was about 13, I started playing volleyball at school, and also got into track and field.  I eventually quit gymnastics, it was clear that I wasn’t going to get to an elite level, although that was my dream all along.  Volleyball and track were my new sports.  Our volleyball coach was so strict, I remember crying many times. He made us work so hard, even if something hurt, even if we were exhausted.  With those two sports I also competed in Maccabi games (in Colombia and Venezuela), as well as against other schools.  At 15, I was still a tomboy.  I would get along better with the boys, and was still not into Menudo. 


Having two older brothers also contributed to my love for sports and my tomboy status.  They were not the overprotective type, to the contrary, at times, somewhat rough.  I remember them saying that “being rough with me would forge my character.”  I'll take their word for it!

Years later, in college, I took sports for 1 credit:  Mountain biking and skiing.  First time trying those 2 sports.  I also discovered cross country, which I think would have been a perfect sport for me growing up, but it didn’t exist in Colombia, and it was too late to get into it in college. 
Growing up, I really wanted to excel at a sport, but I never did.  Whether it was lack of ability or training, I don’t know, it just didn't happen.  My dream was to live in the US, train at a state-of-the-art facility and go to the Olympics...nice dream :)

Now, as an adult, that dream doesn’t really matter.  I see all the things I have learned from sports, and couldn’t be happier!!  Sports gave me discipline, drive and responsibility.  I always did my homework and was at the top of the class, regardless of the number of hours I trained.  Sports taught me to work hard, give my best effort and push my limits.  No matter how tired I was, I kept training.  No matter how much my leg hurt, I kept going.  There were many sacrifices involved, and they were all worth it.  My coaches weren’t always nice, back then, they didn’t worry about overprotective parents or law suits.  They were there to train us and push us, not to please our parents (who were never there anyway).
I’m a sucker for sports, and for everything involving sports (Olympics, sport movies, etc.).  It gives me so much pleasure and joy to practice many sports, although I’m not particularly good at any.  I play tennis, golf (started with my ex-husband), surf (started with my ex-boyfriend), bike, run (although not my favorite), soccer (my new thing), hiking, etc.  I’m game for anything, kayaking, ping pong, paddle boarding, roller blading, wake boarding, skiing, you name it, I’ll try it.  

When I went surfing and wake boarding for the first time, I was able to get up on the first try.  That made me realize that having been athletic since I was little gave me a lot more than discipline and responsibility.  It gave me the coordination, strength and flexibility to be somewhat decent at many sports.  My kids asked me, “have you ever wake boarded before?  How come you were able to get up?”, and I answered, “that’s the advantage of having done sports since I was young.”  

My kids love sports, and they also enjoy watching the Olympics and sports movies (we’ve watched Rudy, Victory, The Blind Side, Invictus, and many more).  However, things are different now (and here in the US).  They practice much less, and most coaches are not as tough.  When my kids complain to me that they're tired or something hurts, I just say, “suck it up,” that's how I grew up.  I hope they get to embrace and appreciate the sore muscles and the sacrifices involved.  My desire is for their lives to be enriched by sports, the same way mine was!!

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Another dress story....a red dress, of course!!


We ended up staying the last two nights of the biking trip in Hoi An again. What a treat!!! The hotel was great and three of us (the self-labeled trouble makers) went to an Italian restaurant for lunch on the first day. They said it was the best pizza "ever", it was really good, but I think it was the fact that we had been eating the same "country-side" food for one week....breakfast, lunch and dinner.

In Hoi An, there are about 10 tailors in each block, they make whatever item of clothing you want. They copy designs, make casual or elegant things, traditional Vietnamese items...anything you can think of. Needless to say, I went kind of crazy. I love Asian-inspired clothing, it's just so elegant and unique, especially living in Miami. So I found two places to have the traditional Vietnamese dress made (called ao dai). In one of the places, I actually went to pick the fabric with one of the girls from the shop. We rode in her moped all over town, with a flimsy helmet with a pink bow, quite an experience. Those two dresses turned out well, but then, the night before leaving (had to go to the airport at 3pm the following day), I got a card for another tailor that looked good....and you can't have too many nice dresses, particularly if they are custom-made. So at 9 am on Sunday I was there, selecting the fabric and designs. I asked them many times if they would have the things ready in just a few hours, as I had to take my flight to Saigon, and they assured me they would. I had 2 Chinese tops and one dress made, they told me to come back at 1:30 for a fitting, and of course, they weren't ready. I went back at 2 and they were still working on them. Finally got fitted and they had to make some adjustments. It was 2:45 and I had to head back to the hotel to take a van to the airport (about 30 minutes away), so I had given up on the clothes. I paid a deposit and wanted to get my money back. Then the "manager" suggested that one of the other girls gives me a ride to my hotel in a moped and she would bring the money with her. Then, as soon as the adjustments were made, someone else would take the clothes to the hotel, and we she didn't make it one time, I would get my money back before getting on the van. So a second experience in a moped in Hoi An, made it to the hotel, loaded the van, and still...no clothes. Someone else in the group had to stop by a tailor to pick up some shorts she had made, so I told my girl who was waiting with the money, to tell the other girl to meet us at the other tailor where my friend was picking up her shorts. And that's how it was, it seemed like an illegal transaction; one moped following us (with the money), the other one parked in front of the van, they gave me the "merchandise" and I gave them some additional money....what an exchange. Unfortunately, the dress wasn't ready, so the girl tells me that she would take it to the airport, 30 minutes away. I wasn't expecting the dress to be delivered, I didn't owe them money, so just gave up on that idea. Just the scene with the mopeds and the van, in the middle of the street, was funny enough. We get to the airport and still had about 1 hour to kill, so I asked Dave to stay with me in the waiting area before security. It's a very small airport, and i think, in the back of my mind, I was hoping for the girl to show up with the dress. Then, about15 minutes later, I turn around and there she is, holding a package with my dress. Dave and I looked at each other and couldn't stop laughing, she drove 30 minutes in her moped to deliver the dress. Now...that's customer service!!!!!



We flew to Ho Chi Minh City that afternoon, and when we landed, I joked that the girl would probably be waiting for me at the airport, in her moped, to make sure the dress fits well. Such a cute and funny story, a glimpse into the Vietnamese culture. A few dresses later, I can't wait to wear them in Miami!!!