A light tap is all I heard as the heavy glass door to the health club closed behind me.   A morning not unlike any Thursday morning.  It was shortly after 8am and I was about to begin my regular 75 minute workout.  Actually some workouts are 72 minutes long because the other hip-hop cd I give the staff to play is 72 minutes in length.

"Would you like to hear you usual CD", Woo Jin said with his usual morning smile right on cue.

"Gamsa Hamnida." I replied.  That means "Thank you" in Hanguel.

I carried about with my morning routine.  Got  changed and then ran back to get a towel from the rack that is next to the entrance way door.  After all this time, you would think I would remember to get that towel instead of making an extra trip to the other side of the gym.   

There might have been a few less women on the treadmills but other than that, it was a morning born out of routine. 

The sun was shining radiantly through the floor to ceiling windows that surrounded three sides of the third floor fitness centre.  It was a beautiful morning and I felt great.  In less than two hours, I would be in a classroom with a lot of children needing my attention so I make a point to enjoy this calm part of my weekday mornings.

I was experiencing one of my longest and hardest sets of presses and had just begun to settle into an upper body routine when a person who was to change my world entered the building.  A sleek moving senior Asian gentlemen walked along the floor in front of my gaze that was focused on the new building being built across the street.

I had heard the back door close as he entered but it was only after I saw him that it registered that I had heard a door close.

His footsteps made no noise.   He was dressed sporty and modern.  He wore a red Nike jacket, black shiny nylon trackpants, a crewneck long sleeved brown shirt and dark socks.  He also wore silver rimmed glasses that managed to compliment a powerful smile over his broad face.  His medium sized athletic frame was for the most part hidden under his jacket and trackpants.  His age was anywhere between fifty and a hundred.

He went to the front desk where Woo Jin and him had a brief discussion of one thing or another.  I went back to my routine and as I often do, fell into a nice daydream while working out.

The daydream came to an abrupt end when he again came into my field of vision.   He was headed straight towards my workout station.  Without provocation, when he knew I was looking, his body went limp and he jerked around like he was a living bonesless chicken.  

He then pointed at me. 

And then he pointed to his limp body. 

And then he pointed at me. 

This fellow was making fun of me in front of all of the patrons of the gym.  But something was unusual about his mocking me.  I wasn't offended and I felt only mildly slighted.  He was telling me something.  His kind facial espressions told me so.  He walked to to my side where I was lifting weights and began to speak in Hanguel.  

I could smell the morning air that was still on his clothes as he had been outside either running or walking before he came to the health club.  His slightly raspy masculine voice spoke in quick controlled spurts.  He grabbed my arms and began to show me how to do things differently.  His hands were firmly holding my arms as to the correct positions where they should be for an effective technique.  He started to alternate between acting like a boneless chicken and mentoring my movements.

He knew I could not speak Hanguel. so he did what we do when we don't speak the language; exaggerated body movement.  He continued to talk but added sweeping movements and gestures to communicate most effectively with me.  

He motioned for me to stand up and then he lightly punched me below the waist, maybe 3cm above my groin.  I had not been punched there before and it hurt.  He motioned for me to punch him too in the same place.  I did and then he did it to me again.  Ouch. However, his stomach area below his navel was hard like tire rubber. 

He began to show me specific ways of gripping and holding weights.  Immediately, I had new strength with the new techniques I had just been shown.  

I quickly awakened to the idea that he was giving me a lesson in being passionate about things one attempts to do.  What was occurring had not only to do with our physical selves or the setting we were in.  He had me look around at the other patrons and for each one he mimicked different actions to me to show how serious they were about what they were doing.

I looked around at the people who were in the gym and I saw people everyone in a different way.  I could see who was serious about their lives.  I could see who was unhappy with themselves.  I could see committment in their brown eyes.  I could see struggle within the code that is etched on the wrinkles on the faces of the people around me.   Life can be as simple as the book of lines on our face.  And I was reading the lines for the first time.   This strange and envigorating new sense happened with the speed of of which you have just read this passage.

What had I really learned from this great man?  Why me?  Only five minutes had passed and colours were different and I was keenly aware of the star we call the sun that was shining just a little brighter as its height over the magnificent Korean mountains increased.

We began to take turns at the station.  He would mentor and I would follow, he would hone my style and then model again and repeat until he was satisfied that I was doing the correct movements.  What he was doing was likely nothing different than a good gym staff member could do but this man was no regular man.

He then had me make these quiet animal sounds as he showed me new positions to crouch in and perform my exercises.  Perhaps because I am an extroverted sort, I didn't feel the slightest embarressed about making the grunting sounds either.  In fact, it felt, well, natural.

His energy, sincerity, and zest was being transmitted to me the while we were in communicating in a language much more clear than English. 

Could he have known what effect he was having on me?  Our contact was supernatural.  I was not at a loss to understand what this person was doing.  But was at a loss to understand why it hadn't occurred 10 years ago.    Maybe I wouldn't have received his offering when I was younger and so perhaps the timing was good now.

He explained to me that he was a 9th level black belt in Karate.  He then showed me his stance.  He perched on the ball of one foot, arched his shoulders, outstrected his arms, bent his knees and moved like a cat.  His precision and deliberateness was most impressive. We walked over to a high balance bar and he outstretched his arms, jumped up and began twirling his body like that of on Olympic medalist.  He spun and manouerved in ways that would dazzle the Oracle of Mykonos.

Who this man was became unimportant.  I had thought of asking him his name.  But I knew it was not part of his lesson to me.  One of those really fast thoughts flashed behind my eyelids and I wondered what his childhood must have been.  Again, I tossed that thought out of my head faster than the first.  I wanted to stay focused.  Doing just that was part of the lesson too.

We walked back to the station where we had met and he nodded and bowed that his departure was about to occur.  We shook hands firmly, I began my exercising with my newly acquired movements and the last I saw of him was a bent leg that was the last part of his body to exit the back door.

It has now been 12 days since I saw the man with the red Nike jacket.  He is often with me.  When I awoke this morning, I thought of him and jumped out of bed, hit my head on the stereo stand as I had too much momentum and had to sit down on the floor.  I think about him mostly when I am alone and wanting to consider improving something about something.

I have a feeling I will see him again.  And when I do, I won't ask him his name.  There are friends and there are teachers.

He is a pure teacher.