Training, Part 2

When you feel like your body has betrayed you, as I did when I first heard the RA diagnosis, you can feel somewhat powerless.  That's certainly how I felt at first.  I felt sad.  I cried whenever anyone asked me about it. I imagined years of pain, a succession of drugs, decreased physical abilities, and more. It was a discouraging time.

Thankfully, it didn't last long.  I started to read and talk to other people and realized that one of the very best things for people with RA is physical activity.  And then, for a little bit, I felt defiant.  I thought I'd start running again and just overcome the pain by sheer force of will.  It didn't work.  Running resulted in sore joints and painful feet.  I couldn't keep it up.  I knew my exercise would have to be walking.

And now a little background....

In Kenya, where I've lived, people walk.  In Cameroon, where I've lived, people walk.  One of my first impressions on arrival in both countries was of people walking.  Driving from the airport into Nairobi and years later, into Douala, I saw people walking everywhere.  Walking from the outskirts of the city to jobs in the city center; walking from a slum on the west side to the bus station 5 miles away; walking from home to the open air market.  People walk.

In Cameroon, we bought coffee from a man named Pa Shadrach.  If we needed coffee, we told our neighbor's cook, Joseph who would somehow get the word to Pa Shadrach.  Without fail, Pa Shadrach would show up on our porch very early the next morning, having walked for more than an hour to bring us our coffee.  Pa Shadrach was in his 80's and strong as an ox.  He walked everywhere.

In Cameroon, we often went to visit the families of our students who lived in neighboring villages. This meant, at times, walking for an hour and a half to reach their homes.  Once at our destination, we sat down to tea, coffee, or a soda quickly purchased from the little shop down the road.  We talked, met the family, were shown the coffee plants and beans drying, the orange trees and mangoes.  We sat some more.  Perhaps neighbors came to meet us.  Then, after a good long visit, we walked home.  Such visiting could take an entire day because we had to walk.

When I lived in a small college town in Massachusetts, I loved to see the family that walked together to and from school.  It was a walk of about a half mile for them and rain, shine, snow, or wind, the mom in this family would bundle up her children, wrap the baby in a warm blanket and tuck him in the stroller and walk to school with her children.  In the afternoon, she was always there at the school to meet the children when they came out.  They walked along home chatting about the events of the day, I imagine.  The walk to and fro was together time and must, I think, have been a sweet part of the day for that family.

Can you tell...I have thought a lot about walking.  I love walking.  Living where I do, I often mourn the reality of car dependent suburban living.  Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I had to walk to the store.  How would I think more carefully about my purchases if I could only buy what I could carry home?  How much would walking places slow me down and simplify the tasks of the day by limiting me to what I could do "on foot."

I think about things like walking to my sister's house, 35 miles away.  Someday I want to do that.

I think about walking across my state.  Someday I want to do that.

All of these thoughts have been rattling around for a long time.  Then I got the RA diagnosis.  Finally, about a month back, a simple invitation brought all of this into focus and launched me into this decision to train for a marathon....