When I was younger, easy fitness options were abundant. I was strong and vibrant, and health clubs were affordable. There were 5-mile hikes for pleasure, and there was disco! Not that I took advantage of dancing for fitness and enjoyment as much as I would have liked. Work was always pressing, and time, in short supply.
Though I slept too little, was careless about eating, and waded through 12-hour work days, regrouping and recovery were still within grasp.
Among other things, I was a distance walker, typically six days a week. My norm? Five miles. And if feeling inspired, I’d venture six or seven on the weekends. After, I’d feel tired, but energized.
Easy exercise
Of course, I was single then. There was no husband to cook for, no babies to feed during the night, no postpartum pounds to whittle down, no exhaustion from being pulled in 19 directions, daily, with no end in sight.
In the 1980s, in the years before I married, I worked in a 16-story building of glass and steel. I loved the panoramic views of the large city just a few miles off, and in the opposite direction, suburban greenery. The pressures were plentiful, but I loved the job. Walking remained my daily companion, and swimming or tennis were options when I was able.
Aging? Are you kidding me? That was a distant inevitability.
Lunchtime fitness
Most days for lunch I would cross the street to a large mall that spanned two city blocks. The huge indoor space offered a variety of diversions: small restaurants and cafes, a typical food court with salads and burgers and pizza. There were designer boutiques and two department stores – ample distraction from the work day’s worries – the latest fashions to peruse, jewelry to admire, shoes to slip into (yes, hoping for a bargain).
And there were mall walkers.
I recall one of the managers I worked with – a cheerful man in his fifties, brimming with energy, who’d modified his routines following a heart attack. Rain or shine, every lunchtime, he changed out of his suit and into gym clothes and walking shoes. He crossed the street, and spent 30 minutes pounding the pavement, where there was none. He mall walked, length after length. Briskly. Intently. And long before any such thing was fashionable.
We do what we can
Yesterday after the drive to the high school, running two errands, checking email, morning writing – I was ready to crawl back into bed and stay there. My brain was weary from worries that are increasingly difficult to push away. My body felt like lead. My mood was plummeting with the ache in my arms and legs, and the physical sensation of weight. But then I remembered mall walking.
I plucked myself out of the bed where I had settled with my laptop. I popped a pill. I put on my makeup. I drove to the nearest mall – not far – and set my goal. Fifteen minutes, indoors, where there would be air conditioning, where I could sit if I needed to, where I would enjoy the distraction of faces, of flirty fashions in window displays, of life bustling around me.
I did not walk briskly, but I walked for 10 minutes, then knew I needed to slow for a bit. I wandered the cosmetic counters in Bloomingdale’s. Tried the latest Lancôme blush, the Dior lipsticks for fall, the Bobbi Brown eye shadows. Then I walked for another 10 minutes.
Lancôme for what ails me?
I admit I was drawn to a particular counter by the face of Julia Roberts. (It’s effective advertising, let’s be realistic.) And while I wouldn’t say that the right mascara or blush is enough to solve my problems, a friendly sales woman and colors to play in certainly don’t hurt.
How many weary mothers wouldn’t take solace in a small dose of dress-up? In hearkening back to days before the fatigue, the bills, the budget, the arguments, the tedium – and starting all over again the very next day?
The origin of the word “mall”
By the way, do you know the origin of the word mall?
Apparently, the word’s usage can be traced to 1737, meaning a broad promenade, a shaded area for walking. How lovely is that? What better place for easy fitness in a hectic world, rain or shine?
Of course I still hope for a return to distance walking and a life that supports it. But in the meantime, the ancillary delights of the mall are not to be discounted: the pleasure of a conversation at the fragrance counter, observing young mothers pushing their strollers, shaking my head at the ladies who lunch (and wondering what that must be like).
On my way out, I’m free to indulge in Lancôme on my cheeks and lashes, Dior on my lips, glittering powders on my fingertip and applied to my eyelids. This is a moment of well-being, however modest. A measure of leaving my worries behind, and greater willingness to then return, dutifully, to my search for answers, and for options.
You have to take the ordinary moments and sometimes “walk” with them, right? In an effort to cure my woes, I’ve plucked myself out of my environment into a new one (i.e. park, mall, a good book). It’s refreshing and yes, the worries will be there when you return, but at least you get a temporary reprieve.
I’m all for temporary reprieves, Rudri!
Apropos of just about nothing, the rowing coach in me is compelled to comment on the form of your pictured rower up there. She needs to sit up more. And her butt, no matter what shape it’s in, shouldn’t be slipping out from her hips. The partly relevant thing I have to say is this: I was having Clinique fantasies the other day. And I don’t even wear makeup. Love ya, Wolfie.
Love your analysis of the rowing position! 🙂 And apropos of just about nothing – isn’t nothing always about something? Clinique fantasies, Jen? Ah… memories of the Clinique counter at Filene’s, in college…
I miss the mall I would stroll with my baby in, watching the world go by, enjoying the cool. Anywhere we walk is a good thing. I had grand intentions of a walk with my little one. When I unfolded the single stroller, I found a mud dauber’s nest on the seat. Oh well. There is always tomorrow.
Mud dauber?
I used to swim – I could never imagine my life without swimming… and then I stopped. In Europe I took up walking because it was what everyone did – it was the way to get places and I was able to mix with the world and see things at the same time. I have never looked back. I can’t imagine a day without it – though I have been living a few days with out it now was we have been with family at home and out of state… and I miss it. I feel heavy and without energy. There is something about movement that is just… it adds to the day in so many ways.
I appreciate mall walking – especially in an empty mall. It is a nice change with everything different daily. There are new people, new treats, new people.. new topics upon which to write… 😉
I miss swimming now and again and perhaps I will return to the water, but I can’t imagine a life without walking (which means I need to stay in pretty dry winter climates!)
How easily we take for granted what seem like “basic” capabilities. We only realize how amazing they are when they’re no longer an option. Swimming is a fabulous sport! And you’re so right about the Europeans, and the way they walk so much. I’m convinced it’s part of their groundedness, and their health. (Maybe you’ll get to swim again soon. And mall walking does have all those other sources of enjoyment, doesn’t it?) And as you pointed out – writing material!
I’ve walked off the post-baby weight of four kids. I love walking but prefer outdoors. I used to walk 5 miles on a soft path with beautiful scenery 4-5 times a week that I accessed just a block away from my old house. Since I moved I’ve put on about 15 lbs. 🙁 I still walk 4-5 times a week but it’s usually on my treadmill at home now for 30-40 minutes as opposed to the hour+ on the path. I still go every now and then on a weekend but I really miss it! The imporatnt thing is to keep doing what you can – it’s better than nothing at all!
Excellent therapy for the mind and body. When I feel bothered, troubled or just unsure, instead of taking the bus from the station, I’ll walk the distance and you can guarantee that by the time I arrive at my front door (I may not have solved whatever it is on my mind), I feel a whole lot better!
There was a time when I looked at mall walkers and scoffed at their age and that they were exercising in a mall of all places. Now I would pay money to have an air conditioned place out of the sun to walk as much as I wanted. With “their age” comes maturity and practicality!
It’s a little bit like meditation, no? Only with never-ending stimuli, a mish-mash of smells emanating from the food court and useless sale items in bargain bins (neon tops, anyone?).
Okay, it’s nothing like meditation but it’s therapeutic all the same.
Definitely therapeutic, Belinda! (No neon tops for you?) 😉
I walk with the dogs occasionally – but then it gets too hot, or too cold, or I’m just bored with the route that’s most available, so I say that tomorrow we’ll drive down the road always, but tomorrow comes and I get too lazy. Self-discipline is lacking here and laziness prevails.
I’m glad that you found something that met your needs.
Love walking, hate malls 😉