Walking the Walk and Other Tales by Foot

I really like to walk. Or maybe I really loathe sitting still. Ask my wife or any of my family members. If you invite me over and expect the bulk of the experience to be shared on a couch, you will find me pacing like a deranged man on his third rail of cocaine. YEAH! LET’S DO THIS!

This = moving around your living room aimlessly and without purpose, probably chewing my fingernails.

The Fitbit craze of late has people obsessed with the seemingly arbitrary 10,000 steps. And although counting steps carries an essence of the bizarre to me, I’m glad there’s incentive to get out of the chairs and sofas and start moving. But perhaps one of the best benefits of walking has less to do with fitness and more to do with the mind. What are we missing when we’re not out on our own two feet?

“It is only ideas gained from walking that have any worth.”

Twilight of the Idols, Friedrich Nietzsche, 1889

The Day Begins

It’s 5:15am and the alarm jolts me into reality. Damnit, I was enjoying sliding down a water slide of viscous slime into Midtown Manhattan to have espresso with my third grade teacher. After all these years, she seems to be doing really well.

But now I’m back in Colorado, in my bed, and there’s something weird coming out of the right side of my left eye. Why the hell is the sheet twisted around my leg eight times, and where are my little pink ear plugs? How did my eye shade end up at my feet?!

Shell-shocked, I hobble into the bathroom, using my iPhone as a flashlight to find the toilet. I use it, for a while. I then brush my teeth. You people who eat and then brush your teeth are disgusting to me. Brush, then eat.

Let’s say it again…brush, then eat. Clean mouth for food.

Upstairs and Beyond

I pump my first of two espressos through my AeroPress. This purchase might be one of my most value-heavy spends in a long time. Coffee lovers, do yourself a favor. My sister calls my coffee “charcoal in a cup,” but she can’t be trusted. I call her coffee “water.”

The first walk of the day involves taking our dog, “Snickers” (her pen name) around the block. This time of year things are starting to get dark and cold, but she doesn’t care if I have to take my hands out of my gloves to scoop an “elimination.” And I’m not sure the use of that word helps with the unholiness of the deed either. I wince every time, reluctantly putting absolute faith into the thin plastic membrane provided by the Wall Street Journal. “No holes please, no holes,” I think to myself, with fingers crossed. I’ve been burnt before, far more than once.

Lunch Walk Routine

I never eat out during the work day, unless a vendor is taking me out on their dime. I’ll work and eat at my desk, and then meet Mrs. CC outside for a walk downtown. Walking is a fruit of life that’s dying on the vine the world over. But I’m with David Sedaris on this one, It’s fascinating, the things you see when you’re out on foot.

For instance, I recently came upon a woman rolling around in the dirt. That might have made for a sight on its own, but she was also making grass origami while shouting the lyrics to Phil Collins’ In the Air Tonight, with complete disregard for pitch or key. I can’t recall, but she might have even mouthed the drumroll. You know the one.

Ingraining the Walk

I’ll continue pacing around my office in the way I pace, separated by fits and bursts of often-interrupted work or unwanted meetings that could have been emails.

When I get home (on non-gym days), the first order of business is to hit the streets again with “Snickers.” Bomb Cyclone or mid-summer swelter be damned, we are going to walk. There is a routine, after all.

We often also walk to do our grocery shopping, a habit I picked up three years ago. I was (and still am) fascinated with the French Paradox, seeking justification for saturated fat and red wine, without gaining weight, of course. Hence, we walk everywhere we can.

It’s about three miles round trip from our home to the store. This excursion involves backpacks, and we even carry water. Our neighbors, curious about our “urban hike” inquire of our arrangement, and then look at us like we have three heads when we explain our intention.

“Okaayyy….? Why don’t you just drive?”

Are we just weird?

The Walk: A Step in the Right Direction

I learned from a recent study that the United States ranks 30th in the world (of 111 countries sampled) for daily step count, at around 4,774. Converting steps to miles is based on personal stride length, but 4,774 steps is approximately equal to about two miles.

You might be surprised to learn that you walk anywhere near two miles a day, especially if your day revolves around getting in and out of cars and sitting in front of a desk.

I suppose I don’t understand. Walking is viewed through a filthy lens of inconvenience, an archaic means of travel no longer suitable to modern man. Disgruntled drivers circle the parking lots to get the closest spot available, when spaces are open on the far side of the lot. Then they walk around inside the store, apparently not too angry about that. Perhaps they’d be willing to ride a Segway if one were provided. I suppose I’d try it too.

A distance of more than “right over there” is deemed unsuitable for travel on foot, if for no other reason than the lost time needed to cover the distance. An Uber driver recently told me, completely seriously, that he picked up a customer and drove her across the street. The rider wasn’t laughing, no signs of a bet won, just the seriousness of a person going about their transportation needs. Fascinating.

The Lost Time of the Walk

But is the time truly lost? A study by Stanford University found that walking increases creative output by 60 percent. When walking, we’re either engaged in conversation or engaged in thought. Without a companion, the the latter often feels empty, so we slam in a pair of earbuds and turn on some music or a podcast. But the unplugged walk provides a moment of respite from our otherwise busy lives, providing space to work through problems or reflect on how to cross the street before that leathery fellow lassoes us with stolen copper wire. 

Steve Jobs insisted on “walking meetings” to produce creative solutions at Apple. That seems to have worked out fairly well. Famous authors through time, from Henry David Thoreau to J.K. Rowling, have cured writer’s block by simply getting up and wandering. We have the walk to thank for so many works of creativity.

Beauty in Silence

Sometimes I suspect we are afraid of our conscious thoughts. Moments of silence are almost always replaced with background television, music, or a reflexive glance at the phone. Millennia of human brain development are being radically undermined in the decades of late.

Often it seems we’re replacing reflective thought with adorable kitchen backsplash ideas from HGTV. Or perhaps we turn to the insightful and inspirational musings of other thought leaders, eager for guidance on the prominent issues facing the world today:

I hate when women wear the wrong foundation color. It might be the worst thing on the planet.

Kim Kardashian

Now, I’m far from saintly when it comes to a distracted mind. I’ve written about my smart phone and email compulsions, a battle I frankly continue to lose. I’m slowly learning to find comfort in boredom.

But at least when I walk, the digital parade is halted. The senses are heightened around the existence of a real and beautiful world, only occasionally interrupted by the sharp and unexpected pull of a leash around my waist. There are still squirrels in this world, after all.

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