Front Page

The 'Zine

Sunsphere City

Bonus Track

Market Square

Search
Contact Us!
About the Site

Comment
on this story

 

Field Generals
In a year of great QBs, the Vols should come out on top

Walking?

Try 5,000 Pizzas
Win or lose, the Neyland crowd has to eat and drink

Football Season, Dammit!
Confessions of a Vanderbilt fan

The Real Rules of the Game
What do those funny little men in stripes mean by those funny little gestures?

  Walking?

UT's most notorious physical-education class is not just a stroll in the park

by Jack Neely

One of the most severe accusations made against the UT athletic department in the famous series of exposes by ESPN was that UT football players were just sham students, not getting a real college education. Three years ago, the year of the national championship, "several" UT football players, one or more of whom has already taken a course in "Jogging," took a course in "Walking." And one or more of them flunked it.

It's been the butt of a thousand water-cooler jokes. What, did he trip? Could he not get a handle on the left-right-left-right formula? And why is UT offering a course in Walking? Is Sitting a prerequisite? Do you graduate to Taking the Bus? Is there also a curriculum in Eating Solid Foods?

But about 400 students each year take the class. You might see them, striding across campus, making slow laps around Tom Black Track, or even climbing up and down stairways.

Actually, Tennesseans, and specifically UT students, may well need a lesson or two in learning to walk. Emile Catignani is director of UT's physical education department. He often walks from the western end of campus to the downtown library without giving it a thought. But he's astonished that students still drive their cars from one class to another. He says Tennessee is the fattest state in the Union, and he thinks he's found one clue about why. (The Centers for Disease Control has data indicating that Tennesseans are indeed heavier than the national average.) But that's not necessarily the raison d'�tre of the course.

Catignani has heard the jokes, and laughs just to show he's a good guy. "The first misunderstanding is the name of the course," Catignani says. "It's not just 'walking.' It's Physical Fitness: Walking." Few would question that physical education is a legitimate study; the walking course is just one aspect of it. "I thought about writing a letter to the editor," he says. "We're not trying to hide anything; people just don't understand."

It has been part of UT's curriculum for about a decade, originally developed by Prof. Ed Howley. The course—21 classes across seven weeks—is offered twice per semester, and it's usually taught by graduate students. It's good for just one credit hour, but he defends it vigorously. "There were a couple of things driving it," Howley says. "One is that, throughout public high schools in Tennessee, there's very little physical education." Perhaps as a result, more college students than ever before are overweight and ignorant of basics of staying in shape. College freshmen may know little about nutrition, body composition, cardiorespiratory function, and the care of the often-troublesome lower back.

In the past, physical education classroom studies have been combined with periods of running, swimming, or athletic sports. Other one-credit-hour phys-ed classes available at UT have to do with badminton, golf, paddleball, yoga, jazzercise, and western dance. Howley says he saw a special urgency for a less-strenuous course because UT had seen an influx in "non-traditional students"—Howley mentions women in their 40s in particular, who may not be in the same physical shape as kids less than half their age but still want to be part of a physical-education program. It's likely, he says, that students who complete the walking course may be ready for something a little more vigorous. "This is just beginning," Catignani says. "I see them going from walking to jogging to playing tennis."

People who think they could take the course in a walk might be surprised that there's some coursework, as there is in all physical-fitness classes at UT. There's a short paper on fitness required, and a multiple-choice final exam. And, of course, there's a whole lot of walking. In a typical day, students may walk as much as two miles, or be involved in other exercises involving frisbees or a modified walking soccer. Instructors help students assess their fitness based on their heart rate after a mile walk and then try to improve it.

Catignani admits the course is not for everybody. However, looking around, he estimates "80 percent of the students on campus would benefit" from the walking class.

The walking course is listed in the UT catalog as "a course for those wishing to begin a fitness program." When you read a phrase like that, you don't necessarily think of a player in one of the nation's leading football programs.

Howley and Catignani admit that Physical Education: Walking wasn't designed for varsity athletes—but they both stop short of saying it's inappropriate for any given UT football player to take the course. There's no rule against them taking it, they say. And they might even learn something about life fitness skills that their football trainer doesn't teach. There are different kinds of fitness, and the fitness required for breaking through the line and tackling a quarterback isn't necessarily the same kind of fitness that leads to a long and vigorous life. "Studies have found that athletes live no longer than anybody else," says Catignani.

Howley likens athletes taking the walking course to someone who's already adept at a foreign language taking an introductory course just to give them a breather from an otherwise formidable schedule. "There's no higher percentage of athletes in Walking than in any other class," says Catignani. Howley estimates it's about five percent.

As for how an athlete might flunk a course like that, it's a tougher question. "They either chose not to show up," he says, "or they completely bombed the written exam."

The controversy about whether all football Vols are real college students aside, Catignani is passionate about the value of his courses. He sounds as if he'd like to flunk Knoxville. "I don't even want to get into how bad a city Knoxville is for walking," he says. Of pedestrian accessibility, he adds, "We don't even do a good job of it on campus, although we're trying to do a better job." He mentions long-term plans to place parking garages on the outer perimeter of campus, a strategy of which he approves.

"We're here in the fattest state in the union," Catignani says. "We have real health problems," he says, many of which would be ameliorated with a regular exercise program.

To Catignani, the walking course is one of the things that makes UT a real university. He sees a large part of UT's mission to be improving students' quality of life in comprehensive respects, as opposed to training them for jobs. When Catignani hears criticism of his physical education courses, he says, "I'm afraid we're going away from the liberal idea of what education is about," he says. "I'm afraid we're going to turn into a dadgum trade school."

As long as UT offers Physical Education: Walking, it's safe to say that it won't be.
 

August 29, 2002 * Vol. 12, No. 35
© 2002 Metro Pulse