The Magic Power of Walking

I’ve maintained a loving relationship with walking my entire adult life. I can’t identify what it is exactly that draws me so strongly to move my body through space, but it’s akin to the feeling of hunger. For me, walking (preferably outdoors) is a combination of delicious ingredients that rivals the delight and satisfaction I get from enjoying a perfectly cooked meal.

The health benefits of walking are no secret. It’s excellent for cardiovascular health, reducing the risk of heart disease, stroke, and high blood pressure. It’s great for weight loss and weight management. Walking strengthens leg muscles, improves balance and bone health, builds immunity, improves sleep, increases energy levels, and reduces the risks of certain cancers. A daily walk can also reduce stress, back pain, joint pain, and stiffness. Walking regulates blood sugar levels and improves insulin sensitivity. Plus, a study recently published in the British Journal of Sports Medicine reported that a daily walk can even increase longevity.

These myriad benefits are pretty impressive for an activity nearly everyone can do easily, frequently, and at no cost. But walking can also be magical. The first line of Anne Lamott’s new book, Somehow: Thoughts on Love, states, “My husband said something a few years ago that I often quote: Eighty percent of everything that is true and beautiful can be experienced on any ten minute walk.” Truth and beauty found simply by walking? I wholeheartedly agree.

Some of the best walks I’ve experienced occurred while I lived in the mountains of rural Pennsylvania. I could shut the door of my old farmhouse, amble down the quarter mile dirt driveway lined on both sides by woods, and walk along country lanes for forty-five minutes without seeing one car. While walking, my mind relaxed and my stride found its natural gait as I absorbed and merged with the energy of the adjacent farmland: the shrubs and thickets, the huge sky overhead, the breeze on my cheeks, the sun on my face, the sight of the wildflowers poking their heads through the tall grass. Occasionally I’d see the bright colors of the red-winged blackbird, or witness the grandeur of a tangerine sunset. I’d revel in listening to the sweet music of birdsong, or smile with the smell of spring in my nostrils. If I was lucky, I’d spy a red-tailed hawk, or pileated woodpecker. Even luckier, I might spot an eagle flying in a smooth, graceful line across the sky. It was wonderful. And liberating. And joyous. And yes, at times, magical.

I do my best thinking while on a walk. When I want to clear my head, even on most winter days, I manage to brave the cold, pull on another sweater, my hat and gloves, and go outside for a walk. On days when the weather doesn’t cooperate and my body and mind itch for movement, I reluctantly succumb to the treadmill to get my walking “fix.”

Inevitably, as I find my natural stride, answers or possible solutions to problems I’m dealing with spontaneously pop into my mind, or some deeper truth will reveal itself.

Research shows that just 10 minutes of walking can lift your spirits. I often recommend walking as a free and natural antidepressant. When I was younger, if I didn’t get outside for my daily walk, I was grumpy. Anxious. At loose ends. Vaguely annoyed or irritated. But worse, I felt guilty. Much of that unfounded guilt was my ex-husband’s doing. He had drilled it into my head that if I didn’t have the self-discipline to get myself outside for a walk every single day, no matter if it was snowing, sleeting, raining, a heat wave, or a day with wind gusts up to 20 miles per hour, I was a failure. A loser. A worthless individual. During that dark period of my life, (detailed in my forthcoming book) I was a victim of narcissistic abuse, and I stupidly believed his lies. But even during that terrible time, walking was my pleasure. My only pleasure. Walking was my escape from mental anguish. Walking saved me.

As the years passed, physical obstacles cropped up one after another preventing me from enjoying the precious gift of my ability to walk. I began to have sporadic back pain. Foot pain. Hip pain. Eventually, I underwent two toe surgeries which forced me to put walking on hold for quite a while. I was miserable. Not because of the pain from the surgeries, but because I suffered the loss of the relaxed, spaciousness of mind and bodily pleasure I enjoyed while on a leisurely walk. Years later, after enduring consistent hip pain, I underwent hip replacement surgery which put my walking out of commission for a good eight months. Talk about low spirits! Thankfully, my hip has healed well, but in the back of my mind, I sometimes wonder when and if the other hip might give way.

In my 40s, I thought I was Wonder Woman. I was strong, active, flexible, indestructible. I’d always looked after my health, and was convinced that my body was impervious to any adversity, and that nothing bad “health-wise” would ever happen to me. But age has a way of changing your outlook on life. Now in my 60s, I’ve come to realize and accept just how fragile the body and life itself actually are. Everyone I know has some sort of physical issue to manage as a result of aging. No one is immune.

I’m all too aware that as I continue to age, my physical body will continue to break down. Probably my mental capacities as well. I’ve long given up the notion that I am an indestructible superhero. Still, I’ve decided that until I can no longer manage it, I’ll continue to answer the call of walking, the call of life itself. I’ll continue to walk to free my mind, lift my spirits, think my best thoughts, and revel in the bodily rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other while the birds sing me a sweet serenade.

My wish for you is that you’ll lace up your sneakers while you still can, increase your daily step count to stay healthy and trim, and let your legs carry you on a joyous, magical ride. Truth and beauty awaits right outside your front door.