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sweat, spray paint, and sanity: finding fitness in medellín's concrete veins

@Ava Morales2/7/2026blog
sweat, spray paint, and sanity: finding fitness in medellín's concrete veins

so you landed in medellín. the air’s this weird thick honey, sweet and heavy, and your first thought isn’t coffee or arepas-it’s “where the hell do i move this body without going broke or getting jumped?” welcome. i’m a street artist. my canvas is the city’s side, my “gym” used to be running from security guards in laureles. but you need structure. you need a shower that isn’t a hostel sink. let’s talk realness.

first, the city data dump you need, not as a spreadsheet, but as a life raft. rent’s insane right now-500k cop for a room in el poblado if you’re lucky, way more if you want light. the job market? either you’re a数字 nomad teaching english online or you’re hustling in a bar. safety? look, i’ve had more sketchy nights in manhattan than here, but you don’t wander comuna 13 alone after dark, and you definitely don’t flash your new iphone near the san antonio park at 10pm. it’s a city of stunning, brutal contrasts.

now, the sweat. i don’t want your corporate, sterile vibe. i want places that feel like the city itself: a little raw, full of energy, maybe smelling faintly of diesel and hope.

*the weight of the world (literally)
i found my anchor at gimnasio el volador. it’s up in the mountain, near the volador hill. you hike up to it, literally. you’re gasping for air at 6am, the whole aburrá valley waking up below you like a circuit board. it’s 25k cop a day, no fancy locker rooms, just concrete, rusted weights, and old-school calisthenics dudes who could probably bend rebar. the view is your cardio. an overheard rumor from a guy doing pull-ups: “this place is for pobres that want to be strong, not for gringos that want to look strong on instagram.” truer words.

where the breath meets the brick
yoga here isn’t all tibetan bells and vegan protein shakes. i’m partial to yoga en la casa in belén. it’s a converted little house, walls covered in local art (not mine, thank god), floors that creak. the teacher, maría, has the patience of a saint and the vibe of a革命 auntie. she’ll correct your posture in spanish, then tell you to breathe in the medellín air-the same air that’s over the traffic and the frying arepas. it’s 20k cop. someone on the medellín expats subreddit called it “the one place where i actually leave my phone in my bag.” that’s the highest compliment.

the tourist trap that’s… actually okay?
okay, fine. sometimes you want air conditioning and a smoothie bar. bodytech in el poblado is ubiquitous. it’s clean, has every machine, classes 24/7. but it’s 150k+ cop a month. that’s a small fortune. a drunk friend (who’s a personal trainer) whispered to me: “it’s a great gym if you want to meet tourists and indecisive expats. the real people are at the neighborhood academias.” listen to the drunk guy. he’s right.

the wild card: parkour & street workout culture
medellín’s got a secret weapon: the parques biosaludables. free outdoor gyms sprinkled everywhere. but the real scene is around parque de los deseos after sunset. guys flipping off walls, doing insane handstand pushups on railings. it’s not organized, it’s a vibe. bring a towel, watch, learn. no one cares about your insta story here.

weather’s forever spring, which is a lie. it’s either “heavenly 22c” or “steamy 28c with 90% humidity that feels like a wet blanket.” today it’s the latter. the clouds are hanging low over the cerro nutibara, like the mountain’s smoking a巨大 blunt. you’re just a short drive from the coffee region’s misty chill or the coastal humidity of cartagena, but here, you sweat it out in the city’s embrace.

final piece of drunk advice: don’t join a gym based on its website. go at 6:30am when the regulars are there. listen. smell the air. see if the people look like they live* here, or just visit. medellín’s fitness isn’t about being the most ripped. it’s about being present, strong, and connected to this messy, magnificent city. now go find your wall, your mat, your mountain. the art’s in the effort.

city buildings during sunset

people walking on street during daytime

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About the author: Ava Morales

Fascinated by how things work—and why they sometimes don't.

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