The Joy of Walking (Part 1)

I’ve never met an aerobic exercise I liked. I have tried swimming, jogging, biking, stationary biking, and stair climbing. Despite my disdain for such activities in all their forms, I have never argued that I didn’t need such things. I purchased a book back in the ‘70s written by Dr. Ken Cooper, the father of aerobic exercise, called The New Aerobics. It has step-by-step programs with age-graded charts, incremental goals, and lots of information. My copy is worn, marked, and tired, like me.

Every few years some issue has moved me to pull it off the shelf, select a program, grit my teeth, and start over. Only a couple of times have I sustained my effort to the end of the program, where I would be earning 30 points a week, Cooper's standard for being in sound aerobic health. (I suspect that in the thirty years that have passed since publishing that book, he has probably changed his mind about some things, but I’m not buying another book on a subject I don’t like.)

A year ago my most strenuous exercise was carrying my laptop from my car to my office. Then I began working on the farm. I noticed how quickly I was out of breath. I looked at the photos of my two preschool grand-daughters and thought about how my dad’s emphysema kept him from actively enjoying my boys when they were small and prevented him from ever knowing my daughter. I had worked my way back up over 200 pounds from 185 about 6 years ago. I decided I needed to find my book again and do something about all this.

I started in January. It was not a New Year’s resolution, but a decision. I simply followed Cooper’s charts. It was a little depressing to find that I’m now in the old people charts. I began a walking program that would require sixteen weeks to get from where I was to the desired 30 points a week. But I just took it at that rate.

I didn’t try to rush it – I’ve done that before and all I got for the extra effort was sore muscles and discouragement. I took it slowly. At first it could hardly have been called exercise. But it was discipline. I had to get up, lace up my walking shoes, and get out the door.

Since sometime last May I have been earning my thirty points. That consists of walking four miles, three times a week, in under 57 minutes. I have missed that goal only three weeks (two of those were around Ike).

I know myself, and how easily a developed practice can fall by the wayside. Huge effort is required for me to engage and sustain a discipline and a mere feather can often knock me over. For ten months, I have stayed with it. I estimate I have logged about 400 miles. Check with me in six months. I hope I’ll still be walking.