Adventures With My Pedometer

Now that I’m in my mid-fifties, I have come to accept that the U.S. Olympic team is going to have to get by without me; I’ll never win any gold medals. However, it would be an excellent idea for me to get more exercise. With that in mind, some years ago, I purchased a pedometer. Then I lost the thing a month later and bought another one. Then I lost that one and purchased yet another. It’s a very good idea to wear a pedometer and try to get in 10,000 steps in a day, which I usually manage to do. It’s also a good idea to extend yourself even a little bit; even for non-triathletes, 1,000 steps is a good start. (I would be very well advised to lose 25 pounds…then lose another 25.) I’m six-foot-three, so I don’t look like a blimp, but I could definitely benefit from losing weight. That’s why I try to have a daily adventure with my pedometer. If I quit at, say, 11,950 steps, it could represent the Buckeyes losing to those filthy, obnoxious, disgusting maize-and-blue jerks from up north.

If I get up to 10,000 steps, I think that, since Ohio State’s football team plays 12 games a year, if I take 12,000 steps, it will represent Ohio State having an undefeated season, representing a shot at a national championship.

So far this week, I’ve helped the Buckeyes win two national championships plus two undefeated seasons. If, later this evening, I get anywhere close to 13,000 steps, I will take a long walk cheering myself on doing my own play-by-play: “Here’s the play, five seconds left! Mitchell takes it in the goal line. He breaks to the middle of the field, cuts to the sideline. He’s got one man to beat. He’s going, going, gone!”



In this photograph, Woody is watching me take those last few steps.