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Adventures in fitness with Sarah Holguin
By Ellen Snortland Pasadena Weekly Columnist
Ihave a fitness crush on Sarah Holguin, my trainer — what a peach! I now actually look forward to working out, and that, my friends, is a miracle. My prior relationship with fitness training was akin to havto places without a Jewish community, drawn by opportunity. Sarah’s parents went to San Bernardino County to join a thriving Cambodian community. Sarah told me, “Next time you’re in a doughnut ing someone pull out my fingernails, one by one, with electrified pliers. So why now? And why with Sarah?
“I’m concerned about your cholesterol level,” my doctor said.
“What? I’ve always had perfect cholesterol readings!” I said.
That was months ago, and I have finally adopted the food and exercise regimens designed to address my pandemic indulgences. Can you relate?
Yes, I have my vices. I am intimate with at least two of the Seven Deadly Sins: pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth. The vices of gluttony and sloth go hand in hand. I participated in gluttony — overeating, which contributed to sloth or laziness — resulting in an enthusiastic expansion of my ass. My rear end weighs everything down. My bottom threatens to not only hijack my pants but the entire block we live on. And when I got to the point where nothing fit, I knew it was time to address vices six and seven.
Enter Sarah Holguin. Actually, we entered her space: The WellRock on Lake Avenue in Altadena. I’d driven by The WellRock for months and wondered if it was a crystal and mineral place for healing. I finally found thewellrock.com and discovered that it’s a gym: our very own local brick-and-mortar, ma-and-pa gym! The locale was an enormous motivator because my sloth won’t allow me to attend a gym that’s more than 3 minutes from my house. The WellRock is 2.5 minutes away, or 15 minutes if I walk there.
My husband, Ken, and I met Sarah, and we immediately liked her. She is extraordinarily fit, has a great sense of humor, and doesn’t make us feel inferior for being so out of shape. I’ve been around trainers who, even though they profess to take me as I am, are dripping with self-righteousness for the condition they are in. Ooh, I so want to smack those showoffs. I digress.
Sarah wasn’t always a fitness freak. She “converted” to fitness organically. She initially had her now-husband as a trainer. They became friends and then a married couple. Sarah had enough of corporate America and yearned to do meaningful work. Voilá! They created their own gym, which is as distinctive as they are.
Sarah has a unique yet familiar story. She is the daughter of immigrants. Her parents met at a refugee camp in Thailand, having fled the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. Both of Sarah’s grandfathers were murdered by that brutal regime.
Sarah’s family is what actually makes America great, as we are a country of immigrants. I’m sorry, but I don’t have any tolerance for xenophobia. It’s a cliché and still true: Unless you belong to one of the 500-plus Indigenous nations across the U.S. portion of North America, you are an immigrant. I imagine if you’ve read this far, you’re well aware of that. And even the Indigenous people of the U.S. were migrants at some point in ancient history, walking across the land bridge from Asia to North America.
Sarah grew up translating and interpreting for her parents. That’s also an old story and very American. Immigrants — just like my forebears — often settle in communities that already have their language group living there. My Norwegian foremothers and fathers went to North Dakota because they could speak to people who spoke their tongue.
This is true whether one is going to a rural or urban area. The Upper Plains states are lousy with islands of nationality groups, primarily Northern European, with an occasional smattering of “oddball” refugees. For instance, James Abourezk, a popular senator from South Dakota, was the son of a Lebanese couple who migrated to start a store at one of the reservations in South Dakota. Jewish families would occasionally migrate shop anywhere in LA County, it’s likely owned and run by Cambodians.” One of her first jobs was in a doughnut shop. Me? I haven’t had a doughnut for decades — OK, years… OK, months — but now Sarah will assist me in disappearing my midriff doughnut. She’s still involved with doughnuts, just the deleting of them rather than the selling of them. We’ll undoubtedly see Ukrainian and Russian refugees soon. Open your arms, because it’s a good bet they will be some of the best citizens we could ever hope for. Sarah is from one such family and a prime example of the immigration part of the American dream. Cambodian, Norwegian, Ukrainian, Nigerian… nationality is now practically irrelevant. Welcoming them is a good exercise in building a great nation.
Ellen Snortland has gotten a little verklempt while writing this column for decade, and teaches creative writing. She can be reached at ellen@ beautybitesbeast.com. Her award-winning film, “Beauty Bites Beast,” is once again available for download or streaming at vimeo.com/ ondemand/beautybitesbeast.
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