Every time I turn on the TV these days, I see people running on a track. Skinny people in tight, bright-colored outfits competing in the Olympics. They run fast, determination in their eyes, streaking toward the finish line and a medal that will make them rich and famous. The camera focuses on the runners in the front, the ones who will take home a gold, silver or bronze medal . It does not show us the people in the back, the losers, unless they fall or have prosthetic legs like that amazing guy from South Africa. Yet the people who fall behind and finish the race unheralded also trained hard, also took the hopes of their country to London, also hoped to win a gold medal.
Well, in the Newport Walking Club, I’m that person in the back of the pack, walking hard with no hope of catching up with the folks in the front. At least that’s how it was on my first walk. I showed up with my backpack laden with my camera, water, phone, cash, insurance cards, and info about my new book just in case somebody wanted to talk about it when we stopped to chat.