I recently spent two days walking around DC, Maryland, and Virginia, covering 39 miles in the name of healthy cleavage. Translation: the Avon Walk for breast cancer.

I wanted to walk in memory of my grandma, in honor of survivors in my family, and in support of a friend battling the disease as you read this. That and the fact that I was lured by the sweet sound of Reese Witherspoon’s voice on the TV commercials advertising the walk. But don’t tell anyone that. Please.

To strut my pink pride, I first had to raise $1,800. The number loomed large in my head and made me slightly (totally) nervous. I knew that I’d need to ask people for donations, but I hate asking for favors. I feel extremely guilty if I participate in the first part of the Need a Penny/Take a Penny – Have a Penny/Leave a Penny shenanigans at the checkout line. I sucked as a Girl Scout (big time) because I didn’t want to ask anyone to buy my cookies (barely earned the cookie badge).

Despite my preference for only barking up the parent tree for money, I sent out a mass email to just about everyone in my address book, including the people I work with. I raised $1,800 in exactly one week, and by the day of the walk I had raised even more.

My boss congratulated me on my initiative and told me how she had done the walk years before. She even loaned me the back pack she had used. Both she and the founder of our organization were two of my most generous supporters.

As part of my training, I began walking to work every day– a 4-mile distance that changed my perspective about what you can accomplish with a little determination (and a supportive shoe). I planned on listening to NPR during the 75 minute commute so I could feel more informed, but I quickly discovered a radio station with a non-stop music hour from 8:00 – 9:00 a.m. and a proclivity for Rod Stewart and Sting. Maggie May and Roxanne won me over (though I didn’t put up much of a fight).

In the beginning, my boss was surprised by my metro-abstinence and most mornings would ask, “Did you walk to work today??” Sporting sneakers and a thermos with the last sip of coffee inside, I’d assure her that I did.

“That’s great. That’s so great,” she’d respond. And sometimes I’d overhear her favorably speaking about my walking to work with other staff members. My stride made it to the water cooler.

When the founder of my organization heard about my walking to work, he bought me a pedometer. Turns out he had recently taken up early morning walking for exercise and was excited to talk to me about the positive changes he noticed in his attitude and his waist line.

Over the next few months, I’d sometimes send him emails that simply read, “10,483 steps so far today, and you?”

Walking to work was a goal I met because it was well-defined, I told other people I was going to do it (I’m a yuppie of my word), and I changed my life to support the goal.

I woke up earlier, making acquaintance with the rooster time frame.

I switched from this bag to this one because it was better for my shoulders.

I kept a pair of brown shoes and black shoes at work to change into.

I included more protein with breakfast. Whoop whoop for almond butter.

And, most importantly, I bought enough athletic socks (get the wicking material) so as not to increase the number of visits I make to the laundry room per month.

So how exactly did my calves improve my reputation as a professional?

• My boss saw that I kept my word. Light rain (thunderstorms just ain’t safe) or shine, I walked to work.
• She witnessed – on a daily basis – my commitment to something that was important to me. During my 6-month review (held during month eight…), she praised me for my follow through – with everything.
• My boss even avoided scheduling an 8:30 a.m. conference call one day because she knew it would interfere with my walking commute. When you show yourself to be strictly committed to something outside of work, a good boss will honor your stance (No pun intended. Well, maybe a little).
• Remember the old ad campaign, “Come see the softer side of Sears”? I committed to the Avon Walk four months into my job, a point when my work family knew me but didn’t really know-know me. In the fundraising email I sent, they got a glimpse into the softer side of Jackie (a variation of the advocate for filing old emails into methodically organized folders); I shared how I lost my grandma to breast cancer when I was five and how that still affected me today. While you don’t need to expose every skeleton in your closet to your co-workers (let Facebook do that), there are personal things you can share – like how a loss motivates you to seek fulfillment – that will reveal yourself to be an inspiring, thoughtful person (they said it, not me) and not just a sterile cubicle neighbor.

So what altruistic muscle can you flex to improve your professional reputation? Think about it. And then do it.