I've walked to many places in my lifetime – school, church, the corner store, shoe sales, but it always seemed to be out of necessity rather than for pleasure or exercise. Growing up in Little Italy with parents who didn’t drive, walking was a part of everyday life. Fast forward to the teen years when drivers’ licenses come into the equation, and walking quickly took a back seat to the luxury of driving.
It was the early 80’s and I found myself driving a number of interesting vehicles from a red Chevy pickup to a burgundy 70’s something Cutlass. My parents, still not interested in learning how to drive, now had three daughters who owned their own cars, so they could rely on us to drive them to many of their errands, appointments, etc. However, they still continued with their daily walking regime. To this day, my 80-something year old parents do not miss a day of their daily dose of the “walk around the block”. Ma usually hits the pavement as early as 7:30 a.m., while pop still insists on walking to his own appointments and errands for as long as he can remain upright.
I always considered myself a fairly physically active person, especially since I taught aerobics during the dreaded ‘80’s spandex craze, the dreaded ‘80’s headband phase, and the dreaded ‘80’s “20 minute workout” phase. Long after leg warmers, body suits, and wearing a thong overtop your leotard went out of fashion, I continued to exercise, only now I was lifting not only weights but groceries, diaper bags, car seats, babies and toddlers. While the extent of my walking now took place behind a baby stroller, behind a grocery cart, or behind a laundry basket, I began to notice that walking, simply for the sheer enjoyment of it, barely existed in my world.
Fast forward two decades and the babies and toddlers have now grown into young adults and traded in their strollers for cars and bus passes. This seemed like the ideal time to follow in the footsteps of mom and pop, and take up daily walking. I soon found myself completely hooked and decided to take this new -found workout routine a step further. Although I spent many a morning sipping my steaming coffee and looking out the window at the dedicated runners, I knew I could never cross over to their world. To me, running means rushing, and I will only run for shoe sales, buses, or after one of my three beloved pet cats. Instead, I registered to power-walk in the National Capital half-marathon, much to the shock of my entire Italian family. Mom and pop’s reaction: “Why? Will they pay you?” and “I no believe!” as well as “No makea sense.” Even though I would have loved to have had them waving their beloved Italian flag at the finish line, I knew they had other plans – the weekly CHIN Italian program. Be that as it may, the training regime began. Now my daily walks were being timed, my steps counted, distances measured, and not event the elements could stop me from getting out that door (note to self: a two hour walk in pouring rain wearing rubber boots is not a good idea). The clock was quickly ticking towards race day and I had to keep up with the intense race schedule I had discovered on-line. I was watching videos of professional race-walkers and attempted to mimic their every stance and step, regardless of how foolish I looked swinging my hips and trying to keep my knees straight as I walked down my street. But, as race day approached, I began to question my preparedness. Had I trained enough? The forecast was calling for record humidity. Would I be crawling on my hands and knees to the finish line? Would I collapse and be carried off the course on a stretcher? Those very thoughts kept me up almost the entire night before the big race. Of course, it could have also been the late-night partying at a friend’s 50th birthday bash, where I just had to sample a tidbit of each of the nine cheesecakes.
With rattled nerves, I arrived at the starting line amid a crowd of thousands. Donning my official race bib and chip laced to my sneakers, I suddenly felt more athletic than I ever had in my life. The energy was so powerful, the camaraderie, beyond moving, and before I knew it, I had made a four wonderful new friends and we were determined to get each other across that finish line in 3 hrs., 30 min.. I faced many firsts that day my friends - my first taste of Gatorade, my first taste of relieving myself behind a Quebec Police cruiser, and the first time I received a medal for any sort of physical activity.( I was more of an academic type of girl.) Now I could check “power walk a half marathon” off of my 2011 Bucket List. Next up on the list: a pat on the back and nod of approval from Mom and Pop.
An enthusiastic phone call to the parents went something like this: “Why would anybody walk for three and a half hours and not receive any monetary compensation? If you wanted to walk so badly, why haven’t you come over to walk with us, just once in the past 25 years? In three and half hours, just think of the amount of gardening you could have helped us with, or the bread we could have baked, or the errands we could have run.”
Note to self: Someday, someday, maybe after the purchase of a breadmaking machine, or if I can grow the largest tomato, or get the best deal in town on olive oil, Mom and Pop will finally be proud of me. In the meantime, I have officially traded in my beloved stilettos (if only during a powerwalk) and continue with my new regime.
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