Because of the recent time shift the morning light is just peeking through the trees when Becky and I, along with our dog Luna, head out for our morning constitutional.
We walk down to the dead end and back, about a mile round trip. We let Luna run pretty much as she will because the traffic is practically non-existent and we have been blessed with a dog that comes to us every time we call for her — probably because I ply her with treats when she comes to me. By the time we get back home, the sun is fully up and the rest of our day can commence.
I have started calling this daily walk our “morning constitutional.” I think it sounds a bit old-fashioned, and I am happy to do what I can to preserve and conserve old ways, especially with respect to the English language. I am perfectly comfortable with the contemporary world’s embrace of innovative slang, word mashups, and technological jargon, and I accept the mostly reasonable political requirements imposed upon modern American speech. I understand that either languages grow or they die. But it seems to me trying to hold onto old ways is a necessary part of growth, as well.
I have since learned that “a morning constitutional” is originally a British English term, which somehow makes me like it even more. Not sure where or when I first heard the term, it is probably from an old black-and-white movie of my childhood. It has a sort of posh, upper-class feel to it. As it turns out, it originated among the British upper classes as a way to get exercise. Apparently, the British nobility wouldn’t normally do much everyday physical labor other than fox hunting, getting dressed for dinners, and counting all the rooms in their houses. So a brisk morning walk was touted as a necessary and pleasant way to keep fit.
I mean no real offense with the semi-snarky images of the British upper class. I hope I don’t offend anyone, but I am assuming the British Upper Class — and probably the American Upper Class, as well — is still an acceptable object of humorous taunts. In my defense, The Oxford Learners Dictionary defines “constitutional” thus: “(old-fashioned or humorous) a short walk that people take because it is good for their health.” So even British lexicographers find some humor in the entire concept.
When the term “morning constitutional” migrated to the United States, it kept its sense of a sort of upper-class power walking, but those Americans who, in fact, did work up a sweat building the country through manual labor tended to use the term in a feigned attempt at poshness. Eventually, as sometimes happens, the term came to be used as a euphemism for “a morning walk to the outhouse.” This second definition seems to have survived alongside the original, especially amongst giggling pre-teens.
According to “Walking Off The Big Apple: A Strolling Guide to New York City” by Teri Tynes, by the early twentieth century some American commentators and editorial writers were expressing concern that Americans “were falling into lazy and unhealthy habits.” Americans need to be more English, they admonished, by taking what “John Bull” calls his “constitutional walk” and thereby gain “strength of muscle.”
“Should pedestrianism become universal,” the editorialists insisted, “the present generation would be far healthier and happier and their children would be sturdier and more beautiful.” Wow. The more things change … That is basically what every other article about fitness and healthy living tells us.
Just like those journalists of yesteryear, and the current crop of health professionals concerned about American citizens’ health, I, too, sing the praises of pedestrianism. Becky does too, and, for what it’s worth, I’ll bet our dog Luna does, as well.
Norman Knight, a retired Clark-Pleasant Middle School teacher, writes this weekly column for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
