Body and mind – like two lovers walking hand in hand, never whole without each other.
We often hear that tired refrain: “I’m too busy, I don’t have time to work out.” And perhaps it’s true – the grind of survival, the burden of rice and rent – sometimes you barely have time to sleep, let alone look your loved ones in the eye. By the time evening falls, you drag yourself home, utterly drained, your limbs heavy, your mind wrung dry like a cloth without a drop left to give. Out of breath, out of energy, out of spirit. What strength could possibly remain for dumbbells or dancing, when even standing makes you dizzy?
But really, it is all about time and discipline. He once served in the military – a month in Sơn Tây. Oddly enough, that was when his body felt strongest: waking at 4 a.m., folding his blanket with precision, springing out of deep sleep at the blare of a trumpet before dawn. Eating in rations, working by the clock. Yet the more he moved, the more alive he felt. His appetite grew, his metabolism surged, and with it came weight, vigor, and a spirit brimming with energy.
Later came those frantic years when he barely ate at all. Meals were nothing but interruptions – chewing while eyes stayed glued to the screen, sometimes forgetting to eat until his body collapsed into weakness, until hunger hollowed him out like a shadow. Three meals blurred into a nuisance, a cycle to rush through, as if swallowing time itself.
A proper gym session takes two hours; two hours a day means fourteen in a week. And sometimes his mind never arrived at the gym even when his body did. He lifted weights while work calls rang in his ears, thoughts boiling like a kettle, phone buzzing with urgent demands. His hands moved, but his spirit was elsewhere. He envied the monks, the ones who could still the mind, who breathed as if each inhale was eternity.
There was that one boss – busier than anyone, yet disciplined like a soldier. He had a rack of weights at home and rose before dawn each day. Another friend of his shed nearly thirty kilos in a year, simply by showing up, without excuse, day after day. That is what separates success: relentless discipline, a stubborn refusal to yield.
There were darker years too. Months stretched into years without training, without care for his own body. He became pale, sluggish, a chicken too tired to crow. Friends hardly recognized him – a hollowed face, frail arms, a man bleached by fluorescent screens and sleepless nights. The mirror finally whispered the truth: he had neglected himself.
And so he returned to the gym. Because health is not for sale. Because muscles, energy, youth, even joy – they all bloom with movement. A a long run, a round of boxing: sweat washes away frustration, and the body hums again. Without it, the flesh protests, the joints ache, the spirit rebels. He learned to listen.
There are rituals he treasures: the hot shower after a workout, the steam room where every pore opens like flowers, the way his body feels rinsed of its burdens, reborn under the shower’s warm cascade. Afterward, water tastes sweeter, steps feel lighter, even the air seems to embrace him.
But above all, it is about fidelity – not bursts of feverish effort, but the quiet constancy of showing up. He feels at home among the familiar faces at the gym. Even without speaking, a shared smile is enough. They have known each other for years – the trainers, the cleaners, the silent companions of sweat. When he disappears too long, they ask after him, as if he were a long-lost brother finally returned.
And always, after training, the world feels sharper, work flows smoother, sleep runs deeper. The guilt of laziness evaporates. He remembers that even Nike – a giant now – was born from a simple love of sport. Strength and intellect, body and mind: they are twins, inseparable.
From: a sports-loving man – TV Ha Kim
