It began back in 1994 with what Vivian Roundtree calls a “man-guy.”
The man-guy was once a beau, but he turned mean and nasty, and was messing with Roundtree’s head and life. Luckily, he was in New York and she was in Philadelphia. But when she’d talk to him on the phone, he’d rile her up so bad she’d be cursing like a drill sergeant and ready to deck Mike Tyson.
One day, to let off steam, she put on her shorts, laced on her sneakers, and went to the track at Temple. After running the first lap, she was no longer calling the man names. After the second lap, she was beginning to think clearly. After the third lap, she was praying for his deliverance.
“Anger kills,” says Roundtree. “After I finished a mile, I felt fine. I left my anger on the track.”
Leaving the “man-guy” behind wasn’t so easy. To achieve peace and equilibrium, she returned to the track many times. Other women saw her stretching and running and admired the apparent result: a lean and elegant body.
“Can you help us get in shape?” they asked.
Sure thing, sisters, said Roundtree.
“And if we exercise, will we look like you?”
No, said Roundtree, a statuesque former model. “But you’ll feel a whole lot better.”
So Roundtree organized an exercise class that would meet at 7 a.m. Sundays. Eleven women showed up for the first session, including Roundtree’s mother and a best friend. Within weeks, the number swelled to more than 20. When the class surpassed 30, Roundtree began wondering what she had wrought and recruited a certified instructor.
“Will I get paid?” asked the instructor.
“Eventually,” said Roundtree, who had no map and no money, just faith and a conviction something had to be done.
She had grown up in North Philly, and though she had pursued a glamorous career in radio and television that took her to New York, Washington and Boston, she knew the home territory, the people and their struggles. Still, she was amazed — by the need, by the stress in these women’s lives, by their desire to improve themselves and their bodies, by how little they knew about exercise, nutrition and how to protect themselves from disease and early death.
“Being a black woman in America is not easy,” says Roundtree, with measured understatement.
Up front, she’ll tell you that she’s not an exercise physiologist, nutritionist, cardiologist or psychologist. She’s not a certified or licensed anything. What she is, she says, is “a communicator.” Her credentials are common sense and compassion. Her tools are intelligence, eloquence, self-reliance and a refined and cordial manner that makes the words and facts, no matter how unpleasant, go down easy.
Her appearance is hardly a liability. She’s a striking, majestic woman who coyly gives her age as “50 plus.” She’s a widow, mother and grandmother. One of her grandsons is 16. That’s nearly impossible to believe, but she proudly produces a photo to prove it.
Actually, her interest in women, and their problems and aspirations, crystallized a couple of years before the nefarious boyfriend drove her to Temple’s track. In 1992, Roundtree was working at a New Jersey radio station, where she hosted a talk show called “A Woman’s Point of View.” Just about anything and everything was grist for the mill, but she was struck by how much her female listeners hated their bodies and wanted to know more about exercise, diet and health. On the air, she proposed launching an exercise class on the Atlantic City beach.
The idea never happened, but “A Woman’s Point of View” grew from a radio show to an organization to a mission. Today, it encompasses a variety of programs designed to make the lives of African-American women healthier, happier and longer. The names of the programs say it all: “Sweatin’ With the Sisters”; “Cardiovascular Savvy for Sisters”; “Kicking Killer Habits”; and “Your Health, Your Honey and Your Money.”
Thanks to support from the Philadelphia Health Department and local political leaders, the original exercise class has become a 10-week course that includes lectures about obesity, heart disease and nutrition.
The program is based on four principles: still the mind, move the body, understand food and love yourself.
“Self-love is the banner,” says Roundtree. “If you love yourself, you’re not going to smoke and you’re going to exercise, eat right and give yourself the gift of a few quiet moments.”
When it comes to eating, “we don’t do diets,” says Roundtree. “Food should be enjoyed, as much as a good workout, as much as good sex.”
Instead, women are encouraged “to cook well without the fat and salt,” to keep food diaries and to ask themselves whether such and such a food is “friend or foe.”
