I have lost my special status as an inspiration for people who hate to exercise but who seem to envy those who do. My generation, now dubbed The Greatest Generation by Tom Brokaw, decided late in life to get into physical fitness, making me just part of the landscape.

Gone are the days when a person could attract attention simply by appearing to spend time on physical activity for its own sake. My special recognition began about 40 years ago when I decided to walk to work. I lived in a small campus town, about a mile from the university where I taught. I became a familiar figure to people driving to the campus who would toot their horn and wave.

Many people said, "I wish I could walk to work." I would suggest that they were welcome to join me each day by parking their cars near or even in my driveway. All demurred on the ground that since they already were driving they would just as soon park as close to the office as possible. The logic escaped me then and it still does.

I added a jogging routine first thing in the morning. I never saw anyone else doing it. Jogging was not yet commonplace and no special shoes or clothing were being marketed. Some neighbors suggested that what I was doing was probably not healthy since grown men did not run. Most expressed admiration for my early morning effort, while urging me to be careful. I continued to walk to work. I was about 35 years old.

During the 1970s, jogging became the rage, part of the post Vietnam, baby boomer, youth emphasis on physical fitness. Special running shoes and related gear hit the market. By then I was living in Chicago where the allure of jogging along Chicago's magnificent lakefront inspired me to expand my running time.

I still continued walking to work, now about two miles each way. I found that during the morning and evening rush hours in Chicago, I could usually walk two blocks for every one covered by buses and cars on heavily traveled streets. With so many people on the streets, I attracted no special notice but friends at the university were aware of my considerable daily physical exertions.

By then the commentary from neighbors and colleagues began to change to outright admiration for what I was doing at my advanced age--then in my forties. "You look good" and "I wish I could do that" were the most common acknowledgments. I couldn't offer parking in the big city but I did offer to accommodate any reasonable time schedule if they wanted to join me.

By the time I was into my fifties, I was in Washington, D.C. Physical fitness was the vogue but not for "older people" like me. I began to take special note of continuing references to my physical activity, always coupled with reference to age, as I moved into my sixties. Often, I would be introduced to someone, first by name, then (in Washington style) by position, and then, as someone who, in spite of advancing dotage, runs several miles each day. People who had not seen me for a while would ask if I were still running. A yes answer was usually followed by "I wish I could do that but [in Washington style] I just don't have the time." I presumed that my having the time was not a good sign.

Now, in my seventies, I've noticed a definite reduction in admiring comments, which would appear to be counter-intuitive. I am just another of the growing number of senior citizens responding to the drumbeat to exercise. Sports activities for "seniors" (often labeled in AARP style as over fifty) are the rage. Newspapers and magazines periodically feature health articles for seniors with stress on walking and upper body exercises for bone and muscle strengthening. Television news and special reports show seniors in aerobic classes. All the charitable walks and runs and even true marathons regularly feature prizes for runners according to age and news photos will feature older runners. The youth culture has given way to the promising market of an increasingly aging population.

Several years ago I joined a health club. I felt somewhat out of place among the young, nubile, and muscular. On my second visit, an older woman on a treadmill told me that "It's good to see another person here turning gray." Members of the training staff, taking note of my daily commitment, took pains to smile at me and encouraged me to keep up the good work. Now nearly 20 percent of the members of the Sport and Health Clubs, Inc., the largest health club organization in the Washington area, are over 55. At the club I attend, about nine percent are over 65. Several patrons are in my seventy-plus category and one gentleman I see regularly is 95.

That my days as an inspiration had really ended became clear to me when I told many people that I had run seven miles in honor of my seventieth birthday. All I got was a polite smile or a "Really? How nice." When I added that I planned to run nine rather than eight miles on my eightieth birthday, just in case I don't make it to ninety, no one laughed.

Milton Greenberg is professor emeritus of government at American University where he formerly served as provost and interim president.