Seniors are in a hovel when people don’t shovel.
It’s an extraordinary public service that Arwen Turner and Come Alive Outside’s many spirited allies are providing in encouraging seniors to become more active outside in winter, per a recent Herald article.
Anyone who has met Arwen Turner knows this exuberant leader could convince even the most determined sofa spud that mastering an Olympic winter sport might well be in their future. That includes even those whose past experience with winter sports consists mostly of flailing on fake flakes in her Ferragamo stilettos in front of Macy’s holiday windows.
Ms. Turner is well aware of my terror regarding any winter sport that involves implements on which I could impale myself. Skis and poles, no thanks. Ice-skate blades, forget about it. Snowshoes? My stilettos, please. My husband, on the other hand, is an avid black-diamond skier who taught me to ski four decades ago (engagement ring on Saturday, first pair of skis on Sunday). On most weekends, he’s among the first in line at Killington.
But at this point in my life, all I want is to enjoy a brisk, 60-minute walk outdoors, sometimes a brisk jog, on the beautiful country roads and avenues in our region, when it’s at least 33° and preferably on clear sidewalks. But that opportunity is getting more rare every year, even though I am very healthy, active and agile in other ways.
Rare, because the sidewalks of such streets as Washington, Lincoln, Church, Bellevue, Stratton and Grove, all popular with seniors, tend to become virtually impassable from November through late March. Often, even Center Street and Merchants Row become precarious. This is due in no small part to the fact that the practice of raking leaves, let alone shoveling and/or salting the sidewalks in front of one’s property, whether commercial or residential, has almost disappeared.
What I’m hoping is that Come Alive Outside and the other organizations who are advocating for inclusive and equitable accessibility to outdoor fitness activities, can also marshal another grass-roots initiative: to encourage all residential and commercial property owners to take responsibility for ensuring the areas around their properties are safe. To be more explicit: get the leaves raked, get the sidewalks repaired, get the sidewalks salted when it snows and for heaven’s sake, get the snow shoveled.
Sidewalks that are rutted, as well as caked with wet leaves and mud, become very slippery, rendering those areas unsafe for everyone, but especially for seniors. Likewise, once winter arrives, snow- and ice-packed sidewalks make walking treacherous for many seniors, even when temperatures rise above freezing.
As a result, many older people become virtual shut-ins from Thanksgiving through March. If someone is stuck inside for more than a week with little access to fresh air and sunshine, any home can feel like a hovel.
Regarding those wacky weather-wardens who chirp “there’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing choices,” it’s not likely they, or someone they love, ever fell hard on a snow-packed sidewalk, or slid on a sheet of black ice, landing onto a busy thoroughfare, while oncoming traffic swerved around them. On a sunny but freezing day, this happened to me on Stratton Road. I was incredibly lucky; I quickly got back on my feet with only a small bruise to show for it.
Those of us seniors who love walking or jogging outdoors during winter, to gulp the fresh air and have natural Vitamin D shining in our eyes, will do just about anything affordable to leave the state when it’s most frigid, even if it’s just for a few days.
Vermonters who are not able to leave, however, are those most in need of feeling safe when they venture outside for exercise, to navigate their favorite walking streets without threat of serious injury. They are the ones the indefatigable Ms. Turner and her passionate allies are encouraging to “Come Alive Outside,” as should we all.
So, please: Be the property owner who clears a safe walking path in front of your home or place of business. Be the property owner who wouldn’t dream of chortling cavalierly as you quip, “Hey, winter happens.” If nothing else, be the property owner who’s mindful that one day you, or someone you love, could be the one slipping on an uncleared sidewalk, or falling onto a muck of wet leaves and mud, or landing on your back on a sheet of black ice while oncoming traffic swerves around you. You might not be as lucky as I was.
Liz DiMarco Weinmann lives in Rutland.
