Last week I was in Fort Lauderdale on business. Not a bad place to be after the winter we’ve had in Boston. My hotel was right on the beach, and I walked it every day.
Before that, it had been a long time since I’d taken an hour-long power walk and at least a couple decades since I’d done so on a beach.
I made a point to get the walks in because I’m way out of shape, and I have an all-night walk coming up in June to raise money for suicide prevention programs.
As a kid and young adult, I walked Revere Beach every single day, rain or shine, day or dark. Those walks kept me sane in a world that was insane. The last time I walked Revere Beach like that was with my friend Sean, days before he ended his life.
It makes sense that I resume power walking in preparation for the big walk in June. I’m quickly remembering the calming effect the exercise had on my mind and how I was in much better shape when I was doing it.
That I restarted the daily regimen on a beach was simply icing on the cake. The sound of waves lapping the sand brings me a peace of mind few other things in this world can.
Back home, where I live now, there is no beach. But there’s a river. A mighty one at that. There are also tons of walking trails and plenty of hilly terrain.
I won’t let the French Peas get me down. Let the training commence.