It's Peru, Baby.

I don't believe I've mentioned that (great haircut and scathing wit aside) I am now even further along the rocky road to becoming a Supreme Being. But why? you may well ask. Well, I've started to go to the gym. 'Nueva Fuerza' to be exact, a place full of grunting, sweating men and many lingering pongs. It's a cheap (20 soles per month), purely functional place with no fancy gadgets but plenty of weights. I must say, being asthmatic, I have until this point, generally avoided all physical exercise outside of walking/cycling for purely tranportational purposes. But with summer coming up I have finally summoned the courage to join Tito at the gym (yes, Mucho Macho loves it, of course). Before doing so, however, I protested not a little. Why should I waste my precious time at the gym? Am I not fine the way I am? I HATE going to the gym, etc. So it came as quite a surprise to me when I found that, quite frankly, I LOVE going to the gym. I really do. I have finally embraced a way to get in shape - without exerting any cardio-vascular effort whatsoever. This may be a down point of standard gyms for many, but for an asthmatic it's a real boon. I do not feel like my throat is bleeding, I do not gasp desperately for air. I do not wheeze and splutter and collapse on the floor like an ungainly land mammal. Excellente!