Monday, April 11, 2011
Running a marathon is the ultimate challenge. It requires absolute dedication, hours upon hours of training, early morning slogs through every type of weather, caring for pulled and tired muscles and identifying just the right type of Lycra that prevents your jiggle from hitting the other runners around you. I have the utmost respect for marathoners, even though they are usually younger, prettier and more slender than I am.
Walking a marathon - as I and thousands of other women will be doing next October as we participate in the Avon Walk for (in my case "against") Breast Cancer - is pretty tough too, only slower and better, because it gives you time to windowshop and grab a Starbucks skinny latte in-between donuts.
The greatest challenge that my training partner (aka "Agent Trader Joe's" because my lawyer is still reviewing the waiver she insists I sign before I can identify her in this blog) encountered today as we tackled our first "long walk" together was turning our collective backs on Gus' Pickles, Russ and Daughters and Yonah Schimmel's Knishes before we walked over the Williamsburg Bridge into the wilds of Brooklyn. It's one thing to fortify yourself in preparation for exercise with granola bars and Gatorade. It's another thing entirely to brace yourself with the food of our ancestors, hearty stock who not only came to this country with nothing but the pickled herring they carried on their backs, but somehow managed to make me feel guilty about it 100 years later.
Agent Trader Joe's has been training every day by running up seven flights of stairs - twice! - with a Baby Grand Piano strapped to her back. Me? It's a long way down from my bedroom to the refrigerator, but I persevere and make the trek at least 52 times a day. On my light training days.
Agent TJ's pedometer indicates that we walked nine miles today. Her inner sense says it was more like six miles. I'd say four or five.
That's okay. It's not the distance that counts. It's the number of clean bathrooms you can find along the way.
If you'd like to support me in my walk, please click through to my Personal Page.
Posted by Joan Oliver Emmer at 12:02 AM