Walking has always been an important part of fitness. Years ago my three-and-a-half-mile walk to church was highlighted by being able to wave to people I knew.
That was before every windshield got tinted. Strange, but caring friends and neighbors invariably slowed down to offer me a ride, when I didn’t need one. But the times when I was stranded, due to a flat tire or mechanical breakdown, people would just whiz by.
Because of the chubbifying of America, doctors and other health care experts tout the benefits of activity, walking being one of them.
Fitness-walking programs such as America on the Move and Health Partners are encouraging people in the workplace to take part in in-house walking programs. Some even issue free electronic step-counters to those who sign up.
With Landmark, the Optic’s parent company, there’s a rebate on a pedometer for those who want to take the 10,000-step challenge. One doctor I know summed it up with, “If people would take 10,000 steps a day, it really wouldn’t matter what else they did, or what they ate.”
Yet, other health care experts argue that what one eats does matter, irrespective of the number of steps. It’s not a good idea to celebrate the 10,000-step milestone with Hardee’s new Monster Thickburger, an artery-clogging mountain of Angus beef slabs, bacon, American cheese and mayonnaise on a buttered sesame-seed bun, which provides 1,420 calories and 107 grams of fat. If ever a snack could become a lethal weapon. . .And keeping down the calories with a large Diet Coke won’t mitigate the indiscretion.
Always one to quantify every aspect of the latest fitness idea, I invested my six dollars on a pedometer that clips on the belt. Those of you who own one, did you ever wonder why the digits are right-side-up, which means upside-down?
If you were my whippet, for example, eye-level to the face of the pedometer, you could see how many steps were taken. But for the wearer, it requires a mirror, or an accordion-like gyration, and you need to read the digits backwards, or it requires you to remove the pedometer, look it in the eye, and go from there. Perhaps those open-face pedometers are really meant for others, so that they can see how many steps we’ve taken.
Let’s look at a breakdown of one day’s use of the pedometer in my household: Most of the steps, which came in the morning, registered when Michelle Pfeiffer arrived at my door and chased me around the kitchen table many times. Soon, Meg Ryan rang the doorbell, flew into a rage, joined in the chase and naturally got into a scrap with Michelle. Once Catherine Zeta Jones arrived, we were off to the races.
A good 1000 steps went to breaking them up.
Okay, a more banal and realistic version of how the steps added up goes this way: About 200 came while performing ablutions and preparing breakfast; 200 going into and out of the car; 500 at work. And that’s all!
I spent almost 40 minutes on a treadmill at the rec center, where the bulk of the steps got registered. but by 5 p.m., all I had were 5,500 steps. Be assured that at least on my step-counter, a person has to walk as if he means it. No namby-pambying around. When I put my foot down, it stays down (unless, however, my wife has other plans).
So how do we get the remaining steps? Doctor, since you recommended this regimen, would you be willing to share part of the burden, recording some of your steps on my pedometer?
Determined to see the magic number, I jumped on a mini-trampoline during commercials. By 11 p.m., and by virtue of some four-minute commercials on TBS, I got there.
It was a great feeling, which I recorded for posterity. The impetus was there; now, to sustain this pace one more day, then another. I determined that next time I’d reach the goal earlier in the day. So I went through more of the same shift, different day. The surprise came when I checked the pedometer, around 7 p.m.
What I got was a very faded LCD display, which showed 744 steps! The mini battery took a break way before I did. My own battery ran down too. But I figured: just because the gadget doesn’t show every step I took, that doesn’t mean I never took them. That’s almost the same kind of reasoning weight-conscious people follow when they surmise that food consumed in the act of clearing the table doesn’t count as calories, or if nobody sees you swallowing half a German chocolate cake, there’s no way you’re actually taking in calories.
Well, with new batteries in my pedometer, I plan to keep accurate track of my paces. With luck, I’ll be writing more about it . . . about 70,000 paces from today.