How to beat the heat and humidity

An inspiring Rocky Mountains hiker, 80 years young

Talk of hiking boots and walking shoes

Doing what comes naturally is naturally the best way to walk

We don’t usually think about how to walk any more than we think about how to breath. We just do it. Even with our first baby steps as infants, we’re just “Doin’ what comes naturally,” as a song says. And doing something that is mechanically extremely complex, using most of our muscles and organs—brain, heart, lungs, eyes and more—in intricate actions that only physiologists understand.


There are exceptions. Military people must learn to march the way the military wants them to march. Infantry grunts are drilled to march 30, 40 or even 50 kilometres, packing heavy loads. Marathon runners give considerable thought to techniques that will help them cover the ground faster. And power walkers, too, must similarly learn the best techniques. Doing what comes naturally isn’t naturally the best way to walk, for the most effective exercise, health, or speed.

Which brings me to my subject. As I tramp into my 80th year, I think I’ve mastered the power walking technique as recommended by former Olympic power walker Mark Felton and others, and modified it just slightly to what seems to give me, at least, the best result.

In fact, I seem to have adopted three different modes of walking during three months of training, so far this year, as I prepare for a 42-kilometre power walking marathon on September 26, and a three-day 90-kilometre hike along for the Victoria Rail Trail from Lindsay to Halliburton October 9 to 11. As noted earlier, on the marathon I’ll be raising money for the Heart and Stroke Foundation, and on the hike I’ll be raising money, for Lindsay’s Ross Memorial Hospital.

Power walking I’ve dubbed the locomotive style. I’ll explain that in a minute. Power walking provides the most vigorous exercise, does the most to improve posture, probably provides the most health benefits, and is the fastest of the three walking styles. But at least for me, it seems best suited to relatively short walks. I probably won’t be able to maintain an all-out power mode for the full 42 kilometres of the marathon. I will likely alternate it with the still brisk but less energetic style I call a military march.

You don’t see soldiers punching the air with bent elbows like power walkers; soldiers swing their arms. A military march, or something remotely like it, seems best suited for long hikes, such as my planned October hike to Haliburton. It seems closest to doing what comes naturally. “You’re swinging your arms freely with just a slight bend to you elbow,” says the Mayo Clinic.[i] “A little pumping with your arms is OK.”

Gorilla-style walking is probably approved by no one, but I sometimes do it for a few minutes as I warm up when starting out, more often as I cool down at the end of a good walk, or if I’m just pooped out and need to slow down for awhile. With muscles relaxed and shoulders slouched, my arms hang straight down, dangling loosely like an ape.

I call power walking the locomotive style because of the arms. My arms don’t swing: they punch. The elbows are bent at 45 degrees, and my hands make short, fast punches, back and forth. As the hands reciprocate like some power-driven mechanical devices they drive the speed of each short step as surely as the reciprocating rods that drive the big wheels of a railway locomotive. The faster the hands and arms go, the faster the feet go. The wheels of a locomotive must turn as fast as the rods that drive them, and the legs must go as fast as the arms that seem to drive them. I find it totally impossible to do anything but keep the speed of my legs in synch with the speed of my arms. I’m sure I’d fall flat on my face if things ever did get out of synch.

Some power walking instructions suggests that the arms should be bent a bit more than 45 degrees with the pumping hands chest high. I find that wastes too much energy. It seems easier, more comfortable, and just as effective to keep the hands at belly-button level. I also have a tendency to tightly close my fists as I pump my hands back and forth—another waste of energy. I have to remind myself to keep a relaxed, open fist, thumb against index and middle fingers.

Now I’m power walking with my arms driving my legs in short, quick steps (much faster than long strides). A few more things kick it into high gear. Head up, eyes forward, not focused on the ground. Stomach and butt squeezed in. Then, with the back straight, I throw the shoulders back, and the pace seems to automatically pick up another notch.

This is the way it works for me.

None of this makes me a fast walker. After some 650-training miles I am still nowhere near fast enough to complete the 42 kilometres of the September 26 marathon in the qualifying time of 6.5 hours. At my age, I’ll likely never be one of the qualifying “fast walkers” for whom the Scotia Bank Toronto Waterfront Marathon is said to be ideal. But at least I’ll be not quite as slow as I would be without—by that time—some six months of training. And perhaps a pair of those costly featherweight walking shoes that power walkers favour will enable me to cover the ground a little faster than in the comfortable hiking boots in which I’ve been training.

At 2 pm on the Sunday afternoon of the marathon, the streets of Toronto on the route will be re-opened for vehicular traffic. Any of the anticipated 20,000 marathoners still running, power walking or limping along will have to get off the road. But unless they roll up the sidewalks, I will still complete the full 42 kilometres as quickly as I can without risking my impaired heart.

And if I can’t walk as fast as real power walkers, at least I’ll look like one.

Not that power walkers are a great sight. As my marathon-running daughter says, “Power walkers do look funny.” As I hurry along with fast tiny steps I fear I must look like an old geezer rushing in urgent need to get to the nearest bathroom.

Never mind. I’m out there doing more than just practicing power walking. I’m also practicing the Keegel. The Keegel, as mentioned in an earlier blog, is the exercise that women do after giving birth to tone up muscles and body shape. For men, the Keegel is said to be a more effective cure than Viagra for erectile dysfunction. The Keegel essentially consists of alternately contracting and relaxing the pelvic muscles. As I power walk with my stomach and butt pulled in tight, I seem to be able to also pull in my pelvic muscles by squeezing just a tiny bit harder. In fact, says the Mayo Clinic, when walking you should “Tuck your pelvis under your torso.” And from time to time I give those pelvic muscles that extra squeeze.

Thus, as I power walk, I like to think that I’m killing two birds with one stone. Which is good, as long as I’m not the old bird.

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[i]  Mayo Clinic Health Solutions. “Walk Your Way to Fitness.” Rochester, Minnesota, 2007.

Search terms: Walking; power walking; hiking; exercise; health; Scotia Bank Toronto Waterfront Marathon; marathons; Lindsay, Ontario; Haliburton, Ontario; Victoria Rail Trail; Mark Fenton; Kegel exercise; Ross Memorial Hospital; Heart and Stroke Foundation of Ontario.

Lessons from the old man's 48-K walk

The older I get the longer I must exercise before it has much effect. That’s how it seems to me as I train for the 42-kilometre marathon walk on September 26.

I began my training January 17, but walking in January and February was only occasional, as snow and ice conditions permitted. I try to exercise five times a week, and when I don’t walk I ride my exercise bicycle.

March weather was unseasonably warm and sunny, allowing more consistent walks, varying from 5 to 25 K. The record in my eXerlog shows that by April 10 I had walked on 38 days for a total of 222 miles or 355 K, an average of a little more than nine K per walk.

I thought it time to try a longer walk — not “just a closer walk with Thee,” as Tennessee Ernie Ford pled in his powerful hymn—but a longer walk with me and myself. The section of the Victoria Rail Trail from Lindsay to Fenelon Falls is 22 K, according to a trail map. There are at least two more Ks from our house to the trailhead. The round trip is 48 K.

There was promising blue sky and a cool 4 ⁰ when I set out at 8 a.m. I wore short pants with a bottle of water in a pocket, long wool socks, comparatively lightweight hiking boots, a tee shirt, a light sweater, a heavy work shirt, and a baseball cap—but, no gloves. Only my hands felt a little uncomfortably cold.

The first couple of kilometres are paved, followed by another two K of fine, crushed gravel, tightly packed, as smooth as pavement. Then, for about 18 K beyond the Ken Reid Conservation Area to Fenelon Falls, the trail has looser gravel with a good supply of rocks and stones. Hiking boots, not too heavy but with good, thick soles, help avoid the feel of every stone jabbing the feet.

When I began training for the marathon, my walking speed was 5 K or three miles per hour. It took me four hours and 20 minutes to cover the 24 K to Fenelon, or 5.5 K per hour. That’s a bit of an improvement. To cover the 42 K on the September marathon in the qualifying 6.5 hours, however, I would need to average 6.5 K, and for a longer period of time. It was not walking to Fenelon, but walking back that showed how difficult it might be to do the marathon in the qualifying time.

Before heading back, I lingered a little in Fenelon, with a leisurely cup of coffee and a raisin bran muffin at a Tim Hortons, and a little loafing in the lovely park beside Cameron Lake, where a fair breeze stirred up a few whitecaps under the blue sky.

The walk home was not easy. With muscles starting to stiffen and ache, I had to push myself. I developed a sore at the heel of my left foot that felt like a blister. It took me more than five hours to struggle home, a full hour longer on the walk back than on the walk to Fenelon.

In training, I am to push myself a bit, but within my comfort zone. And I did, to the extent that there was no gasping for breathe, no pounding in the chest, no exceeding my heart-training rate, and I felt capable of carrying on a conversation at any time. I said hello to everyone I met on the trail, and to every friendly tail-wagging dog that came up to greet me.

But I pushed my muscles to the limit of my comfort zone, and possibly a bit beyond. Those who engage in competitive sports constantly push themselves beyond their comfort zone, and frequently are at least temporarily disabled as a result—like baseball players officially marooned on 15- or even 60-day disabled lists. That’s not necessary to improve or maintain health and fitness by vigorous but enjoyable walks.

The blister, painful enough, turned out to be not a blister but an embarrassment. The long walk induced a crack in the dead skin that builds up at the heels on people who don’t take care to regularly scrub it away, and the crack exposed a sliver of raw flesh. With medicated ointment, it took four days before I was able to resume walking with comfort. Time, however, heals all heels.

Here is what the Mayo Clinic, in its booklet Walk Your Way to Fitness, says about foot callus:

“…if it starts to hurt, get bigger or crack open, soak your foot in warm, soapy water. Then gently file the callus with an emery board and give it a generous dose of moisturizer. Petroleum jelly, such as Vaseline, is preferable. If it doesn’t go away, your doctor can remove the callus by cutting it away.”

Improvement is still needed to do the 42-K marathon in September within my comfort zone and at least reasonably close to the 6.5-hour qualifying time. Not to worry. There are still five months of training left, and a new pair of good walking shoes, suitable for pavement pounding, to buy.

LESSONS LEARNED OR REMINDED

1) Be patient. Desired fitness goals can take months, or a year or more, to attain.

2) Stay within the comfort zone. Minor muscle aches and stiffness might be no problem, but pushing past the comfort zone could risk the type of more serious injuries that sometimes land athletes and those who play hard at competitive sports on the disabled lists.

3) Take care of the feet. To enjoy vigorous walking, you need to know what you’re doing, and the feet are the basis of a good under standing.

Search terms. Exercise. Fitness. Walking. Hike. Victoria Rail Trail. Sports injuries.