Finding My Inner Athlete
By Bobbi Brenner
I was a slightly late walker, gingerly taking my first steps at around 15 months old, and probably a cautious little one with a young mother worried that I would fall and get hurt! But I walked and then ran, racing my boy cousins who burst into tears as I flew past them, my competitive striving kicking into gear. I rode my bike, free as a bird with the wind in my hair, the first sense of independence for a growing child, I jumped rope, played hopscotch, stayed outside playing in the spring and summer until it got dark. I was an active child. But when I stood in front of my father bending my arm to show my 10 year old bicep, making a muscle to demonstrate that I was a strong girl, he was not impressed. In fact, if I am recalling correctly, he may have looked visibly displeased and said something like, “that’s for boys.” The word that comes to mind is deflated. I do not know if this set the stage for future athletic endeavors, but remembering this story makes me feel a bit sad for my little girl self.
As I grew up, I focused mainly on other interests, theater, music and the social world. I could hit a softball, tennis ball, and golf ball and played around with these sports but never seriously. At one point I tried to get involved in track, but lacked the persistence to stick with the grueling practice schedule.
Somewhere in my 30’s, I discovered running. What a gift! I quickly built up my mileage, finding that the long periods of jogging created a mental space for self-reflection, that I thoroughly enjoyed, if I could just get through the first 29 minutes without turning back! Running became my main sport. I learned that I had slow twitch muscle fibers that supported the 10 K’s, 10 milers and half marathon distances. My best time in the half marathon had me at under a 9 minute mile at the age of 50 something. I felt good about my effort. There were periods when I lost the thread of fitness and became more sedentary, times of loss and grief, negative mood, stubbornness, difficult relationship with food, parenting, etc., but I always returned to running. One time as I began a run up my steep driveway, which we had aptly named mailbox hill, I noticed my neighbors up ahead. A decade or so older than I, they were walking briskly and I found myself silently hoping, then vowing that I would willingly adapt as I too proceeded through the life cycle. And adapt I have.
After too much pickleball, Achilles injuries, and life in general, I gratefully took up distance walking. Long walks in remote areas of Nova Scotia motivated me to look for a walking group. My irrepressible lifelong interest in sports led me to find FreeWalkers. The events they plan provide me with a goal for my walking. I keep up my mileage at home so that I can confidently participate in the walks that are scheduled. In each event I walk as much as I can, sometimes with my husband, sometimes catching up with a person I’ve never met and with whom I have some of the loveliest conversations. Each walk I’ve taken has included people of all ages and stages of life, from young folks to those who are coming back after double knee replacements, all with a variety of abilities. I feel automatic acceptance, inclusion and camaraderie with FreeWalkers. I’m having fun whether in nature or on a historic city walk, whether for 5 miles or 15, or more as I get stronger, it’s been a terrific discovery.
A Japanese proverb says, “Only staying active will make you want to live a hundred years.” Of course it will not guarantee that I will live until 100 but the gains from long distance walking will make me WANT to live to 100, because I feel alive and energized, physically and mentally strong. That little girl and her inner athlete has found a great home with FreeWalkers.