When I wrote about walking to keep fit and/or lose some of the extra pounds I'd put on, the column met with a mixed response. There were those who thought it a good idea, others who disagreed with me about almost everything, and lots of suggestions about other ways to shape up. Everyone seems to have a different opinion, which (surprisingly) surprised me. Perhaps it's time for some background.
Not all that long ago, I used to be madly fit. It would take me half-an-hour's stretching every morning to get my muscles moving. I used to go to dance class and sometimes rehearsals and performances, and then, when I stopped dancing, I started teaching it and going to the gym because I missed the discipline and that glorious euphoric rush of endorphins. It's good for mind, body and ego to know you can give a Royal Marine a fair old pasting in the fitness arena. But at some point in anyone's life the wheels might come off, in a manner of speaking, and what you used to do you find can't do any more. It might be temporary or it might not. It's no one's fault, it just happens.
It happened to me about 10 years ago when I landed in hospital for some fairly major abdominal surgery, emerging a week later as weak as a kitten and only just able to manage the stairs. Being so helpless was a new and horrible feeling, but slowly I worked my way back up to walking as far as the postbox, then as far as the end of the road, and eventually all the way down to Greenwich pier, but it took time and effort to get my strength back and I've never reached quite the same level of fitness I enjoyed before.
Over the summer I've had several months of illness, happily without hospital this time, and walking is again proving to be a lifesaver. So that's where I was when I wrote my column a couple of months ago. I'm still doing it, and incredibly, for the first time since 1986 (!), I've started running as well. That in turn has meant … trainers.
I don't like trainers. They come in a baffling variety of types and styles. The white ones look like boats and the black ones look like orthopaedic boots. The ones with neon flashes … seriously? Still, Converse won't cut it because there's no support for the foot and no cushioning for the impact and I'd quite like my knees to last beyond Christmas, so I had to go to get fitted.
I also needed something to run/walk in that wasn't a pair of jeans and that too is confusing. Things have moved on quite a bit since my lycra all-in-ones, practice tutus and legwarmers. I understand the principle of natural fibres, and the layering up thereof (as does every menopausal woman) but there are special things for EVERYTHING. The main thing is to be comfortable and not worry about bits of you jiggling about and getting sore, and bearing in mind that sweaty things chafe, it's helpful if you can find something that wicks sweat away from the body. It's less chilly if you stop for a bit to "admire the view" (ie take a breather before you pass out) as well, especially at this time of year. Having said all that, anyone can walk/run in whatever they like and if, unlike me, you've got track pants and a T-shirt plus a lightweight showerproof jacket, then that's all you need.
The one thing I think it's important to invest in is a decent pair of trainers, so I have. I had my feet properly measured and came away with a pair of the black orthopaedic boot variety, but my goodness they're comfortable – it's like walking on clouds. So spare me a thought of a morning, springing gazelle-like along the leaf-strewn pathways of Greenwich Park in my oh-so-bouncy new trainers, because right now I'm feeling bloody grateful I've got this far.
Follow The Invisible Woman on Twitter @TheVintageYear
