AS THE DAY COMES TO AN END, I OFTEN go to the beach to watch the sunset. I take Oscar, a golden retriever buddy who belongs to a disabled neighbor. Sometimes I ride my bike and Oscar trots alongside. My joke is I’m Burgess Meredith and he’s Rocky. Once we were on the bike path when I repeated the joke to a tourist couple from Italy who did-n’t speak English. At the word “Rocky,” the husband excitedly proclaimed to his wife that I was in the movie! I tried to explain I wasn’t, but to no avail. I was relieved they didn’t ask for an autograph.
In addition to sunsets, I enjoy people watching. When I visited France, I went to the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower, but what I enjoyed most was sitting at an outdoor cafe. In Santa Monica, I enjoy it as well — people throwing the Frisbee, jogging or Rollerblading. In front of the Sea Castle, Oscar and I once saw an English bulldog ride a skateboard. (Check him out on YouTube.com. Type in “coolest dog ever.”) Sometimes I think the fitness craze in Santa Monica has gone overboard. Running, skating, bicycling, swimming, surfing... who do we think we are, Australians? It’s ironic the fitness Mecca is also the fast food Mecca. I have friends who spend so much time in the gym they don’t have time to cook. There’s 1,100 calories in a Big Mac and fries. On the treadmill, it takes me 30 minutes to burn 300 calories.
As the saying goes, you do the math. Still, I admire people who work out, especially in winter. In February, Oscar and I passed a group of hearty souls on the grass next to Perry’s Cafe. Bundled up, they were holding ski poles and being lead by an attractive, blonde woman. With their spiked-tipped poles I thought maybe they were picking up litter.
A few minutes later, the group began speed-walking. Grasping their poles, arms pumping and legs striding, it looked like a Monty Python sketch. The journalist in me was “curious.” (aka “nosey.") I waited until the class was over and approached the teacher — Malin Svenson, who’s about as Nordic as you can get. Malin was born in Sweden, where she was among the top five women long-distance runners. She came to the U.S. in 1989 and in 2002 became the first female Nordic Walking instructor in America. So what is Nordic Walking? And for that matter, what’s wrong with American walking?
Nordic walking was developed in Sweden and Finland in the 1930s by off-season skiers trying to stay in shape. The sport got its official name in 1997 when ski manufacturer Exel marketed lightweight poles. (Six million people are doing it, though, hopefully, not all in Ocean Park.) Nordic Walking is a high-calorie-burning workout that doesn’t strain the knees and joints. Ever notice how many joggers look like they’re in pain? Having jogged for years, the answer is, they probably are.
By using the poles you target muscle groups you didn’t know you had. It gets the abs, triceps, chest and back. I can attest to this because, after putting up with my joke, “Where’s the snow?” Malin insisted I try. I was hesitant because walking with poles looks a little goofy. Malin confessed she gets wisecracks from people along the boardwalk, or in the park, but she goes so fast they can’t keep up. Plus, with Nordic Walking’s popularity, it’s less of a novelty. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, I agreed to attempt it.
“Malin’s Method for Nordic Walking,” as she calls it, is actually simple. After all, it’s just walking. (Something I’ve been doing for a few years now.) You can Nordic walk almost anywhere because the poles have removable rubber tips for hard surfaces, like sidewalks. For grass or sand, you take the tips off and the bottom is like a cleat for traction.
Malin teaches a course for the city, from April 14 through June 1. (She supplies the poles, you supply the legs.) To give people an idea about Nordic Walking, she is offering a free clinic tomorrow, Saturday, at 9:30 a.m. in Ocean Park. The class meets on the grass next to Perry’s. (Knowing me, I’d be tempted to grab a slice of pizza before class.) I may attend Malin’s clinic, but I doubt Oscar will. I have a feeling he’s more interested in that English bulldog on the skateboard.
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on April 6, 2007. Read the original PDF.