Take a Walk

I once looked at walking simply as a means to an end – something that must be done to get somewhere. At one time walking simply for the sake of walking seemed silly to me; it sounded like a lot of work just to relax.

My wife, Rhonda, and I have different views of what constitutes a vacation activity. She thinks there must be walking and biking to truly enjoy a vacation. I, on the other hand, think that while a walk on the beach looking for seashells is a wonderful way to spend an early evening, rest and relaxation is best achieved by resting and relaxing.

Lest you think I have been lazy all my life, let me tell you about the two really long walks I went on in the early 70’s. For two consecutive summers I and a few friends participated in the Walk for Mankind. The idea was to raise some money for some cause deemed worthy enough to get people to pledge so much a mile. The first year I walked for nothing because I was too lazy to raise any money. The next year I raised five or six dollars. Now I wouldn’t walk that far for anything less than five hundred.

We walked the streets of Bloomington; I seem to remember ending the walk at the Met Stadium. At some point during the walk there seemed to be hundreds, if not thousands of people (mostly kids), stretching both before and behind us. The actual course was twenty–two miles, but one year we tried to take a short–cut through some woods and got lost; we probably added several miles to our journey that day. I still remember the course ranger hollering through his megaphone “GET BACK ON THE TRAIL! GET BACK ON THE TRAIL!” We ignored him and ran even faster. We wandered aimlessly through backyards and deserted streets until we rejoined the exodus.

The next year, at a rest area, the Bloomington Police Department had cans of Pepsi available for the taking from a squad car seat for the very foolish, others stood in line for cups of water. Between the times when we ran, we walked and talked. We were twelve and thirteen with nothing better to do and the whole day to do it. The sun shined on us and the breeze cooled us. When we got too tired we hung on to each other like the weary travelers we were.

I look back on those days and remember how close I felt to those guys; I don’t think you can get the same feeling running a marathon, as there is not much opportunity for quiet conversation. When the finish line appeared we sprinted to it. The people at the end congratulated us and gave us buttons for our efforts. Our shoes gave us blisters.

I’ve walked all over this country – Washington D.C., New York City, Door County, Orange County, Scott County, paved roads, dusty gravel roads, and dirt paths through state parks. As I think about it, walking needs no justification, it stands on its own two legs.