Take this word out of your vocabulary

First off, I know this blog has been idle for quite some time, so I appreciate if you’re still with me.

Second, although the primary topic of this post is not a happy one, I hope that the message has an impact.

My circle of marathoning/walking friends has sadly suffered another loss. Our friend Beth K. died after an accident late last year. Beth was with the Team Prevention program from very early on. (In this program, run by Prevention magazine from 2005 to 2009, the magazine helped readers train to walk half and full marathons, with many measures of support and information.)

One of the best facets of the program was our group of mentors. These were women who were pretty new to the walk-a-marathon thing, too. They shared their learnings and advice on online message boards for our participants, and they came to our races to inspire, coach, and meet participants.

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I last raced with (and saw) Beth (left) in Pittsburgh in 2015. It was a Team Prevention mentor reunion of sorts, as two of the other women in this photo (and another with whom we gathered that weekend) were mentors as well.

Beth was one of those mentors.

We’d have a team dinner the night before a given race, at which our mentors usually said a few words to the group. The messages differed — some mentors would explain why they chose to walk races, some would offer words of wisdom for first-timers, and so on.

Beth had a particular message she’d share. I’m sure I won’t do it justice, and I’m sure it won’t be as motivating as it would be if she were the one giving it, but the message was strong and simple.

“You’re not just walking,” she’d declare.

Our group of participants were mostly first-time racers. They were not usually the most athletic bunch of folks. Maybe once upon a time they ran, but age or joint problems or other factors ended their time as a runner. And here they were, about to embark on a pretty big and, for many, daunting goal — to do a full or half marathon. When people would learn they were doing a race, many of them would tend to say, “Well, I’m just walking,” in an almost apologetic tone.

“You’re not just walking,” Beth would emphasize. “You’ve trained for several months and you are doing a marathon.”

She made it clear that no one who embarked on the goal to complete a half or full marathon was just doing anything.

Own it, she was saying.

With one sentence, one correction to a statement, she motivated participants to feel even stronger, to feel even more motivated, to feel even more proud.

We all cross the same finish line, whether it’s with a pace of 7-minute miles or 15-minute miles. Don’t apologize for how you got there.

Thanks, Beth.

Today’s walk

The need to do some higher mileage as I train for a half marathon, plus sunshine and nonfreezing temperatures, finally got me walking outside today.

If you read my last post, it might help shed some light on why it’s been a while since I’ve posted. I’ve gone to the gym but hadn’t been able to bring myself to brave the cold outdoors for longer than house to car/car to gym.

About 2.5 miles into an 8-mile walk, just me and my shadow.

About 2.5 miles into an 8-mile walk, just me and my shadow.

As a half marathon on May 3 looms, though, thankfully the weather coincided with my need to do about 8 miles of walking. I’ve done that distance on the treadmill before (and did 6.5 on it a few weeks ago, thanks to the theater room at my gym — watching a movie makes the miles zoom by), but knew I really needed to get in some outdoor mileage.

After several months on the treadmill, it’s important to get re-conditioned and ready for a race without the assistance the machine gives me, on the unyielding surface of pavement. And to be sure, my speed was noticeably slower outdoors than in.

But that’s OK — I know it won’t take long to get back up to true speed.

I did an almost-8-mile loop from my town into the next and back. I love walking early in the morning, when traffic is light and most of the world is still waking up. I left the earbuds at home so I could enjoy the sound of birds — just that and my thoughts for almost 2 hours.

One thing I forgot about taking a walk outdoors: The near heart attack you get when a dog comes out of nowhere, charging up full bark on the other side of a fence you’re walking alongside. (What’s even scarier is when it’s one of those invisible fences, and you’re not sure until the last second if there’s any barrier between you and dog!)

As my walk progressed, I was waiting for the rewarding vibration of my FitBit, notifying me I’d reached my 10,000 step goal. Nada.

When I got home, I logged in and saw that it had just 8,500-and-change steps listed. Seems low for nearly 8 miles! But what was worse was my “active minutes” — just 11? Seriously? Sometimes I think that only something like jumping-jacks or burpees counts as “active minutes” where FitBit is concerned.

In my book? 2 hours of walking counts!