The following article is an open letter from a friend that was brave enough to openly voice the impact that an elderly stranger had on his life.
I’m not sure why I agreed to take you on as a client when I received that referral call back in September ’14.
All the hopping back and forth between school and the gym from 6am until 11 pm gave me only an hour break. Sixty measly minutes to eat...
My name is Marlond but I sometimes go by Marls (a nickname given by a Melburnian friend). I’m a personal trainer currently telling people to do all sorts of healthy things here in Denver, Colorado. I wasn’t always fit and healthy. I was an accident-prone kid, always getting hurt, and very susceptible to getting sick. But spending time with my grandparents and the way they spoiled me made me forget all my troubles. Lately, my usual outlet of working out has been cut off due to surgeries, so It’s been frustrating, not being able to do things that I used to do day in day out. Maybe that’s why I feel more of a connection to those who are experiencing the effects of the aging process. And since I can’t go to the gym much, I’m trying this writing thing out for a little bit.