must be af irst

“WHEN’S THE NE X T P ARTY?”

More hot chicks from Trinidad have written to me than from anywhere else. Could the next Mrs. Dr Keepfit be waiting for me in that tropical paradise? The more e-mail I received, the more I started to feel like my destiny was to pay Trinidad and my Trini fans a visit. But you know me, a look-before-youleap kinda guy I booted up the computer and checked T&T out on the Internet. The deal was instantly clinched. Trinidad has three major things going for it, and all of them are on my A-list.

1. Beer: They make their own and lots of it. No need to say more, but I will.

2. Exercise: There’s this thin g called Carnival, an all-in- one fitness-fest where women wear nothing but bikinis, sequins, and a few feathers. During Carnival everybody gyrate their bodies non-stop while running through the streets of Port of Spain. No need to say more, but I will.

3. Romance: During Carnival the ratio of girls-to -guys is something like 10-to -1. I’ll stop right there.

“Gyrate” is my middle name, and I deserved a week of fun, so I booked a flight, packed my sunscreen, and of course bought a guidebook. I was so excited I did a triplespin in my office chair Then something happened. The chair stopped spinning at a particular spot, facing a particular wall where a particular piece of paper hung. Shite. My training schedule for a marathon three weeks after my return date. Somehow drinking, gyrating, and romancing were not adding up to that sub-four-hour marathon I had been shooting for

Panic-soaked disappointment shot through my body What to do? I contacted the publishers at Island Sports & Fitness (two of my hottest e-pals, by the way) who gave me that famous island assurance: “No problem,” and promised to hook me up with some serious runners and a costume for Carnival. I breathed a sigh of relief and threw my bags in the back of a cab. Fun, sun, and fitness would be mine in just a few short hours.

The Trinidad leg of my journey could only be described as an airborne party Drinks flowed, and people packed the aisles as they reunited with friends for a bit of “ole talk.” The plane was delayed by 45 minutes as the pre- Carnival party carried on, and soon-tobe masqueraders ignored commands from the crew to take our seats. There were no old friends for me to reunite with so I found a nice group of youngsters (30-something) who promised to take me to the most “wicked” Carnival fetes. “It’s all about stamina,” advised a seasoned North American lady in the seat next to me, “educating” me on how to handle the Carnival experience. “You just have to pace yourself.” Pace myself?! I’m a marathoner, a stamina master By the time we reached the airport I had my entire holiday planned out to the nanosecond.

8am – 12pm: Train 12:01pm – 3pm: Eat 3:01pm - 5pm: Shopping/sightseeing

5:01pm 7pm: Eat/bathe/dress walked into my hotel room. My pals from the plane, ecstatic because they scored tickets to a fete. “But it’s 10 o’clock,” I said, my protest falling on deaf ears. They had already hung up and were on their way to get me. No problem, the party would end by 12am at the latest, and I’d be in time for seven hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Amazingly I finished our 12-mile run in 33degree heat in fairly good form (8.5-minute miles) and returned to my hotel room where I collapsed on the bed. Imagine my surprise when t he telephone starte d ringing. My party friends telling me about tonight’s fete, but with promises to have me home at a reasonable hour. I spent the rest of the day lying in bed watching TV and recuperating. Sightseeing would have to wait for another day stepped plane tarmac, confident that my Carnival would be a success. I would brains out and still return ready to kick butt in my Marathon.

Da y 1

The Island Sports & Fitness waiting for me when I arrived met them in person. (Let’s was pleasantly surprised.) was the Squeeze pub, their was introduced to a few several local beers. (Stag quickly my beverage of choice.) Then a restaurant named Solimar exceptional dinner Having dined after hours of travel bed, so the ladies dropped me at my hotel and went on their way surprise to hear my telephone ring as I the party didn’t finish at 12. That’s started. Granted I was overwhelmed by the many romantic possibilities… but my little friends didn’t

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The fete on this day was better than the last, probably because I was starting to get I was also Carnival future (I would meet several of them before leaving When’s the my party pals deposited me at my hotel room in the inebriated state. heard as the night. “My to myself hottie I’d surprise to could open call from run. And I hours of pretty good this time) I , I’ve still changing my . Stamina. Of course the rest of and several the night’s fete and my hottie. I would have to modify would have to costume party, me some old something that seemed to work. It was like a Carnival warm-up with lots of people bad.” I had eepfit, and uesday was hot lava. I couldn’t help noticing my rounded belly as I lay on my back in bed that night. I had I I continued on page 46

I consumed a lot of eats and drinks that night, and here was the proof. This time for my 5am wakeup call I thankfully wasn’t walking in the door, however I did wake up to find my tongue glued to the sheet. Pouring water on it helped pry it off I was going to have to dig deep if I wanted to make a good showing at this morning’s run.

Success! After partying all night I ran three consecutive miles in 36 minutes. Tw elve-minute m iles. N ot bad, considering “Buddy, you’ve still got it,” I muttered to myself as I rolled into bed and drifted into unconsciousness. Imagine my surprise when the phone rang. You guessed it: my plane pals with that night’s party plans. Sightseeing would have to wait another day

Da ys 5-9

Things deteriorated to the point that I wore my pedometer during Carnival Monday and Tuesday and logged those days as training miles.

Da y1 0( Ash W ednesda y)

I slept all day and flew out the next. the time I returned home I had nothing but a rudimentary level of fitness. I also a bit paunchy and had to shelve marathon plans as well as the guidebook that I never opened. From a holiday point of view? I didn’t find Mrs. Keepfit (No problem: I saw thousands of strong candidates), but I took part the World’s Best Party I paid dearly it was worth it. I’ll be back next time some sightseeing too.

Pat Isman (Dr Keepfit) has physically active for his entire life writes the popular humour/sports colum “Dr. Keepfit.” If you have a comment him he can be reached drkeepfit@hotmail.com.

from page 10 daubed a ll over in molasses, who roamed — or rather jigged and danced and trotted about the streets, accosting spectators. There were usually two of them: one beating a rustic drum or pitchoil tin to make rhythm, and the other leading the way with a little devil’s fork, and a three-word demand: “Pay the devil.”

For many spectators of the Carnival this is one of the most unwelcome of all the masquerade, because they have to pay up, and quickly, or get their clothes soiled with molasses, or sometimes tallow grease or tar One remembers dressedup spectators scurrying to escape the Jab Malassay.” And there is no point in getting vexed and wanting to fight, because the Jab Malassay would be ever so happy to have a free fight with you and have your clean clothes completely ruined.

The Su-Marie

The Su-Marie, with its Amerindian connections, is Venezuela’s contribution to the Trinidad Carnival. It is also known as “Burrokeet.” This masquerade is usually of three characters—the main one is that of a person riding a donkey (or in Spanish, Burroquite), and the other two are his attendants.

It is a very attractive display to look at. The Burrokeet, a fabricated one, is usually beautifully made, and is part of the costume of the chief character A ring of people is formed around this character, who dances around in circles, while both of his attendants give orders, and try to control the Burrokeet.

The story of the Burrokeet is totally confusing to Trinidadians, because it seems to be a Venezuelan story But the display is very entertaining to watch. Unfortunately, the Su-marie or Burrokeet, a popular masquerade up to when Carnival was banned in 1942 because of the war, never seemed to return after the war was over in 1945. When Carnival resumed in 1946 it