One Foot in Front of the Other #walking

2016-04-20 06.54.29With the proliferation of boot camps, gyms and celebrity fitness DVDs, one might easily imagine that exercise is hard work. But I’m getting healthier and steadily losing weight, on a very moderate exercise regime. I would hardly even call it a regime.

Chugging Along

Until the last decade or so, I’d been moderately but consistently active all my life. As a child, I swam (enthusiastically), played hockey (unenthusiastically), netball (defensively), tennis (ambidextrously) and rounders (exceedingly well, if I say so myself). I also walked everywhere, as young people used to do before parents became unpaid taxi services. In my twenties I bounced round a sports hall to the tune of ‘Cecilia’ (Simon & Garfunkel, great bouncy tune) in what used to be called Popmobility classes (that’s before aerobics was even heard of). Since then, over the years, I’ve been a member of no less than four gyms, including three stints with a personal trainer – and that’s not including the one I dated; I’ve cycled (including, just once, doing the London to Brighton Bike Ride), played squash on a weekly basis, gone swimming with the same frequency, walked a mile each way to and from the train station every day, and joined my neighbours for energetic Sunday morning walks.

Yikes - a #walkie #selfie !
Yikes! A walkie selfie – complete with bug-eye shades

My periods of supervision by gym-based personal trainers and the London to Brighton notwithstanding, my approach to exercise has been consistent; moderate in preference to extreme, and gently glowing, in preference to sweating-like-a-pig. But if I think back, I realise that over the years I’ve always done something, to aid my physical fitness and counterbalance my largely desk-based occupations.

Until, that is, it all stopped.

Grinding to a Halt

In 2001 I fell victim to a damaging personal relationship and in the middle of that chaos, I was made redundant; a double-whammy that spawned a crisis of confidence. Determined (that’s a bit of a theme in my life) not to let circumstances and my tattered self-esteem beat me, I joined Weightwatchers. Through 2002 I managed the biggest weight loss I had ever, to that point, achieved. But for reasons I don’t fully understand even now, I couldn’t sustain it and the weight piled back on with staggering rapidity.  That was when I lost the impetus to take proper care of myself – I gave up. Then the menopause showed up, slamming into me around 2007 and putting paid to what was left of my energy, motivation and self-discipline – and all bets were off.

I spent much of the next eight years sitting for endless hours on my ever broadening bottom, at one desk or another, in one car or another, or in front of the TV.  The fact is, when it comes to general fitness and wellbeing, the less you exercise, the less you want to exercise. And the more you sit, the more you need to sit.

Worth saying, the one thing I kept up, right through from 2007, was a weekly one-to-one Pilates training session, and the modest amount of Pilates I did at home, from week to week.  Pilates, whilst rarely aerobic, continues to make a vital contribution to my physical wellbeing. I got into it because of chronic back pain (brought on by carrying too much weight – duh); I stayed because I loved it. But more about Pilates on another occasion.

Cranking up the Engine

When I began my new healthy lifestyle last September, I sought help from a number of different sources. One of these was a Great White Elephant which had, a few years previously, taken up residence in my spare bedroom.

The White Elephant
The Great White Elephant

I had, in a moment of madness several years earlier, purchased a full-size gym-grade treadmill. I had, with a burst of good intention, converted my spare bedroom into a mini exercise studio, with wooden floor, a TV mounted on the wall, and a fan for comfort.  I installed a couple of pieces of Pilates equipment and a vibrating plate thing – and I bought the treadmill.  My rationale was, the easier I made it for myself to exercise, the more likely I was to do it. And you can’t get much easier than stepping on to a treadmill in your own spare bedroom, can you?

As it turned out, even that wasn’t easy enough.  But that was more about attitude of mind than anything else. And back then, I didn’t have the right one.

So last September, as I began to nourish my body with better food, I turned to my ignored and abandoned treadmill.  I couldn’t quite face walking outdoors. I felt enormous and lumbering and it took only a few hundred yards before my face turned blotchy red and oozed with perspiration. On the treadmill, I could begin gradually, walking slowly for a few minutes – 5 at first, but I got to 15 without too much trouble, and kept going. I gradually increased the speed and length of time I used this instrument of torture, until I became thoroughly bored with staring at the TV and going nowhere.

My local park earlier this week
My local park – not bad for London suburbs

I was deploying positive affirmations by then, which made me feel more engaged with the idea of getting out into the fresh air, and gradually I migrated my (nearly) daily walks from my spare bedroom to three or four circuits of my neighbourhood, varying distances depending on time and inclination, whether it was light enough to walk through the park, and whether I needed to pass by a shop.  A few months in, and I added a longer walk into town, which, when combined with a bit of wandering around the shops, got me to 10,000 steps for the day.

I know that’s not a lot – but that’s my point. [Yes… I got to it at last…]. I’ve been losing weight and getting fitter on a modest 6,000 or so steps a day, with maybe one day a week on 10,000 steps.  For a home-based worker, a 6,000 step day is a walk of somewhere between 2-2.5 miles or between 30-45 minutes, plus incidental wandering around at home. It’s really not a lot.

Once I got a taste for being outside (frosty, dark mornings in the winter, crisp springtime sunshine, now warmer lunchtime wanderings), I began to actually enjoy my daily walk.  Now sometimes I stroll – stop and smell the roses – and other times I walk as fast as I can, using an App to check my pace. Sometimes I rock it with an exercise playlist, and other times I immerse in an audiobook. I go first thing in the morning, or at lunchtime, or when I’m fed up with staring at my PC. I’m trying not to slip into any kind of routine, because I know how all-or-nothing I can be, and I know that the moment I fail at my routine, it will knock me off course – and I don’t want that to happen.  I’m just listening to my body, and making sure I enjoy what I’m doing, and never doing it under sufferance.

2016-05-16 06.58.25-1Now, with summer beginning to show up (odd days only, so far – this is the UK after all), I’m looking forward to getting the sun on my face and arms, to natural Vitamin D, to watching toddlers in the playground; to the scent of wisteria, honeysuckle and fresh mown grass; to the fact that I won’t be bringing in soggy leaves on my shoes, a curse to my cream carpets, for the next few months.

I have friends, slimmer and fitter than I, who regularly walk 5 or 10 miles a day – for fun. Imagine! I’m comfortably able to walk 3 or 4 miles with no undesirable outcomes, and I could certainly do quite a bit more now, though I haven’t yet had the occasion.  Later in the year I’m going on a healthy retreat which will involve much longer walks. Meantime, I’m being urged to do the ‘Couch to 5K’ App, and learn to run.

Maybe I’ll get there, I don’t know at the moment if that’s something I’m prepared to put my 56-year-old body through. But in the meantime, I believe the most important thing is not running, nor jogging, nor even how far you walk, but that you walk – every day, or as near as possible.  Because once you walk – once you enjoy the experience of putting one foot in front of the other outdoors, you can always walk more, or faster if you feel so moved, and then there’s no end to how far you can go.

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Author: Jools

Abundant, Bold, Confident, Determined, Empathetic, Forthright, Grumpy, Healthier, Individual, Just me, Kind, Loving, Mellifluous, Natural, Optimistic, imPatient, Quirky, Real-world, Single-minded, unTreatable, Unwound, Verbal, Wilful, eXtraordinary, Young and old, Zero-tolerance.

11 thoughts on “One Foot in Front of the Other #walking”

  1. Good for you, Julie. I am not the type to go to a gym (plus I live 20 miles from the nearest one) but I do get outside every day. We made walking trails on our property 25 years ago, so that we could walk the dogs off-leash. Walking those trails many times a day soon became a habit. It is amazing how it clears the cobwebs out of the mind!

    1. Wow, to be able to create walking trails on your own property must be amazing. If I set up a walking trail on mine, it would take about 30 seconds to get round!! My local park is my walking trail 🙂

  2. I am so with you Jools, right by your side on this one. Having Dog is a good incentive but even without him I prefer walking to any other form of transport if I have the time. Go get ’em girl!

    1. I sometimes envy the dog walkers like you, who have a reason to walk, and the pleasure of a canine companion, where I need to make my own motivation. But I’m coming round to the pleasure of a good walk in its own right, especially as I’m seeing such a good return on the effort.

  3. So that treadmill is the reason why will have to sleep on the sofa and the floor when we come to visit, isn’t it? Yet another reason not to like those machines 😊. So glad to hear about all of your progress! Such an inspiration!

    1. I love that… “WHEN”!! But yes, my spare room – the one that used to be filled with a double bed, ready for guests that rarely materialised – is now my ‘gym room’ and in regular daily use. It is home to the offending treadmill (which is actually foldable, up to a point – reduces its footprint somewhat), a Pilates reformer (clever contracting design, can to be tucked away in a corner), a Pilates wall board (ahem, wall-mounted, with eyebolts, so makes a neat place for guests to hang their travelling wardrobe, and with its associated springs, bindings and straps, provides an… interesting… talking-point) and jiggly vibrating plate thing (curiously another talking-point, and deputises nicely as a suitcase stand). So, in the end, there’s room for a put-you-up, but the one I have, sleeps just one. But you know what, if (WHEN!) you guys make the trip, I might just make the best spaces over to you, and sleep on my own put-you-up! There’s always a way.

  4. I totally agree. I enjoy working out, but my knees keep me from running or jogging. I’ve found that riding a bike gets my heart rate up and keeps it where I want it and it has improved my knees! Walking is great as well, but I do better on a bike

  5. Knees get more temperamental with age, don’t they?! I’m still quite weighty around my mid-section, so jogging isn’t the most comfortable exercise option – rather like having a sack of potatoes tied round your waist! And most medics say that a brisk walk is the healthiest activity, with the lowest risk of messing with those temperamental joints. So I’m sticking with it. Cycling is good too, but tiny rock-hard saddles are a torture too far for me!

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