Riding a Vespa, as much fun as they are, doesn’t provide much in the way of exercise unless you’re pushing a dead one down a road. Exercise has become an important part of my existence since a heart attack in May and I’ve been exploring options for healthier behavior. I’ve not wanted to resort to communal exercise in a gym or health club. My cardiologist says I just need to move on a consistent basis so when I saw a reference to “walk ten thousand steps” on a list on David Masse’s Life on Two Wheels blog it started me thinking.
I passed William Snyder III’s Vespa painting while walking this evening. With the ten thousand steps in mind I walk more and have become more aware of my body in motion. During the past couple weeks I’ve averaged nearly ten thousand steps a day. On some days nearly fifteen thousand — each step contributing toward the development of a new habit.
Darkness and a light rain “forced” me into the car rather than ride the Vespa — a sensible choice that was somewhat deflated when I saw the little pink scooter parked along Allen Street in State College, Pennsylvania. At least it wasn’t a Harley. Then I really would have felt bad.
I lost the fire for walking but I’m not sure how or why. There was a time when my feet were in constant motion in town or on the trails that crisscross central Pennsylvania. I dreamt of walking the Appalachian Trail. I read Colin Fletcher’s The Complete Walker IV obsessively. The dogs and I (Essa and Iggy Pup) roamed the fields and forests together. Then suddenly I’m not walking anymore and I have a heart attack.
Only makes sense to restore walking to my daily life.
My dogs taught me a lesson about movement — no special facility or location is required. It may be nice to wander the streets of State College but I don’t have to go out of my way to collect steps. The youngest Belgian Sheepdog in the house — Lily the Hammer — runs relentlessly through our .70 acre property following an intricate web of paths and trails. Watching her I pondered, “Why can’t I do that?”.
So rather than glue myself to one place while I toss tennis balls to exercise the dogs I’ve created my own web of walkways. So instead of a handful of steps during the morning ball throwing session I now routinely collect 2000 steps as I make my way up and down paths and in and around trees and shrubs.
One of many lessons taught to me by dogs.