“Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time.” ― Steven Wright

Back in the ‘80s a 2 or 3 mile walk was part of my daily regimen. That isn’t an impressive distance, but it was something. Like other Boomers, I felt the dreaded 30-something decade of life weighing on me in the ‘80s, so I responded by fighting the aging process aggressively with diet, exercise, and vitamins. No doubt all of that was healthy in general way, but aging continued anyway, of course, so by the ‘90s my enthusiasm flagged and I slacked off. These days I’m not sedentary exactly (I do most of my own yard and repair work, which keep me on my feet), but I no longer walk just for the sake of exercise. On the other hand neither do I circle the parking lot at the supermarket, as so many drivers do, looking for the closest parking space to the door. My legs aren’t broken, and I’m happy to walk an extra 200 feet. I do have a winding trail through my woods (four of my five acres [two hectares] are wooded) that I commonly walk, but that is more for peace of mind than for exercise. In truth though, the best thing I could do for my health would be to resume my old ‘80s regimen.
 
Age is no excuse as was demonstrated as long ago as 1909 by professional walker Edward Payson Weston. On March 15 of that year at the age of 70 he began his walk from New York City to San Francisco. His goal was to get there in no more than 100 days. The Last Great Walk by Wayne Curtis, which details the event, is worth a read.

Professional walking was a thing in the 19th and early 20th centuries. (There still are walking races, of course, but they don’t draw press and crowds as they once did.) Often an event was not a race but a solo long distance challenge walk, as in “I’ll walk from Boston to Chicago in 35 days.” People would take bets on whether the walker could do it, newspapers covered the walk, commercial sponsors paid the walker’s expenses, and walkers would give paid lectures at towns along the way. (Before the movies became big by 1913, people would go to lectures like that for entertainment – besides, a famous walker was as close to a celebrity as someone in small town Missouri or wherever was likely to see.) Weston’s first sponsored walk was in 1861 at age 22. He had bet that Douglas would win the 1860 election. If he lost the bet he would try to walk from Boston to Washington DC in 10 days or fewer in time for Lincoln’s inaugural address. He already was savvy enough to get sponsors for the effort. He missed the speech by 4 hours, but though he technically failed he had found a sport he loved. During the Civil War, though a civilian, he delivered messages on foot for the Union army. After the war he took on numerous challenge walks of 100s of miles – in a few cases over 1000 miles – and was cheered on by fans in the towns through which he walked. He succeeded at making a living at it, which was fortunate since he wasn’t ever successful at any other business undertaking.
 
The New York to San Francisco walk was meant to be a career topper. Things went wrong with the weather from the start. Snows, strong headwinds, and torrential rains dogged him along the way. In 1909 the USA did not have much of a road system. What there was between towns was poorly maintained, rutted, subject to washouts, and in places barely passable. Accordingly, Weston for much of the trip walked on or next to railroad tracks, especially in the western states. These also offered the best routes through mountain passes and over rivers, though he admitted to feeling uncomfortably trapped when crossing trestles or walking through tunnels. Only once did he feel personally threatened: he attracted the attention of two hobos at one otherwise empty railway stop and they followed him for a while, but he successfully outpaced them until they gave up. Apparently this slow chase never did break into a run. Weston averaged 38 miles (61km) a day not counting Sundays, which he took off. The New York Times and other papers reported on his progress, and there were always cheers from the sidewalks when he passed through a town – and often free meals and other generosities, though his sponsors normally paid for hotels and restaurants anyway. By the time he reached Nevada, Weston knew he was behind schedule and was kicking himself for cockily having added 323 miles early in the trip by arcing through Albany and Buffalo instead of striding directly across Pennsylvania. On July 14, 1909 Weston reached the 16^th Street ferry in Oakland, California. To avoid any hint of cheating he walked around town for 6 more miles to compensate for the length of the ferry trip to San Francisco. He disembarked in San Francisco at 10:50 p.m. and at 11:10 arrived at the St. Francis Hotel where a room was waiting for him. He had walked 3925 miles (6317km) in 105 days, 5 hours, and 41 minutes – not counting 17 Sundays.
 
Despite receiving copious congratulations for his feat (and getting paid for endorsements of clothing and footwear), Weston was upset he had missed his 100 day deadline. “I do not feel inclined to close my career with a failure,” he said after taking the train back to New York. He decided to repeat a coast-to-coast walk the next year, but opted for a west-to-east direction with prevailing winds at his back; he also chose a more southerly route. So, in January 1910 he took the train to California. On February 1 he left Los Angeles on foot for New York, this time allotting himself 90 days. He turned 71 on the walk. Despite bending his route in order to see the Grand Canyon and the Petrified Forest, on this occasion he beat his deadline. He reached New York in 78 days. He then announced his retirement though he did in fact take on much shorter challenges (in the range of 100s of miles) from time to time. Long daily walks just for his own fitness remained part of his life until age 88 when he was hit by a taxi in NYC. The accident confined him to a wheelchair. Being unable to walk took the life out of him and he died two years later.
 
Walking – specifically bipedal walking – made humans human. Not opposable thumbs, which animals from opossums to pandas have. Not big brains, which came much much later. It was bipedal walking. It’s the most natural thing we can do. It was a killer app that saved energy and allowed our ancestors to travel phenomenal distances in search of new land and resources. It freed up our hands to carry infants, weapons, and tools, which in turn gave an advantage to individuals smart enough to make weapons and tools. The famous walk track at Laetoli that is more than 3.6 million years old shows our ancestors, though chimp-like aside from their upright posture, already walked like modern humans. They were on the path to a very different future. Our ancestors’ penchant for walking increased as millennia passed and brains grew. Homo erectus walked all the way from Africa to Indonesia. Modern humans, since exiting Africa some 70,000 years ago, in a surprisingly short time walked not only all over Eurasia (with a hop across the sea to Australia) but all the way across the Bering land bridge down the Americas to Tierra del Fuego. Homo ambulans (walking man) might be a better name for the species than Homo sapiens (wise man)… at least until recently. Nowadays it might be Homo sedens (sitting man), which isn’t working out well for us in terms of health. Sitting was once a luxury in days filled mostly with walking. Like so many former luxuries, we now get more of it than is good for us.

Laetoli footprints

It’s easier to state the problem than fix it, even though “fixing it” on an individual level simply means getting up and walking somewhere. Inertia (which sounds so much better than laziness) certainly afflicts me. I, for one, have no plans to walk to New York from my far flung suburb much less hoof my way to San Francisco. For that matter I have no plans to walk to the grocery store, which is about 4 miles (6km) away. I probably won’t resume my old ‘80s daily walking regimen. But I’ll keep strolling on my own wood trails and maybe will add an occasional walk in one of the area’s parks. It’s not much, but it’s something. Those with better motivation for healthy living than I would be well served by treading more ambitiously. But watch out for taxis.

 

Devil Doll – Walk with Me