In praise of walking
Oct. 27th, 2005 01:19 pm[disclaimer: I know that some people cannot walk, or prefer not to, or
experience it as dull and/or painful. This is not about you. This is
about me and a new love affair I have with walking. Feel free to skip it
if you'd rather not hear me burble about something you find dull,
distasteful, or painful.] Please excuse the line lengths, too, if they're
wonky. This is an email post that went in and out of the drafts folder
all day, which I find messes up the line lengths.
I have never minded walking. I always said that I could walk for miles,
and it was true. But usually, I didn't bother. I hopped in my car (or
onto the trolley) and went where I wanted to go, even if it was blocks
from the house. My favorite coffeeshop in San Diego was exactly a mile
from my apartment. I lived there for two or three years and walked to the
coffeeshop maybe two times, and then only because I had no other choice.
Then I met
someotherguy, who had become a walker as part of his
general campaign to improve his health. And because it meant more time
with him, I became a walker, too.
At first, I didn't love it.
sogwife and
someotherguy's place was on a hill, in the middle of nowhere, so we
walked to some dull destination or other (the nearest being a mediocre
donut shop), and then had to walk uphill to get home. Not my favorite
thing to do, the walking, but there was also much laughing, talking, and
smooching, so it was still preferable to not walking.
Then we moved, and everything changed. Our new place was still on a hill,
but it was a gentle hill, and there were coffeeshops (and
bookstores, and grocery stores, and restaurants, and and and...)
everywhere! We walked. And walked and walked. Every day we explored
some more of our neighborhood. Every day, we had some time away from our
computers to just spend with each other and delight in our new hometown.
We learned where the good coffee and food were. We found Pokez, our
favorite Mexican place to this day. We decluttered our stuff and walked
it to the Goodwill. We talked about love and politics and god and the
universe and everything. As we fell more in love, walking became our
communion with our neighborhood and with each other.
As walking became more and more joyful, our concept of "walking distance"
morphed to where it's now essentially meaningless. Everything now
feels like walking distance to us -- it's just a matter of how much time
we want to spend doing it. We've noticed we try to give distances to
others in miles, because if we tell them someplace is in easy walking
distance, they might not be happy to find out it's a thirty-minute walk.
Around the time I met
someotherguy and
sogwife, I
began having some chronic hip and knee pain that hasn't let up. More
about that in the next post, about today's doctor's appointment. This
means that walking is not painless for me. In fact, most days, it's quite
painful. But walking has become essential to me. I miss a day and I
begin to feel restless in body and mind. I start to miss my time with my
love, and I get a little cranky.
Another thing: Walking is how I access the neighborhood-ness of the place
where I live. Because we walk, the neighborhood shop owners know us (and
give us cookies!). Because we walk, the neighbors smile and tell us we're
cute. Because we walk, we know when new local businesses are opening up,
and we get to see the first blooms of spring. We see our neighbors and
know some of their names. The neighborhood drug dealers are sweet to us
and invite us into their dice games (we surely look like suckers to them,
and we know better than to prove them right). None of the local merchants
bothers asking for ID any more. Local poly friends own the local game
store, and we may never have known that if we hadn't stopped by on a walk.
And so many other neighborhoody things. I love my neighborhood, and I'm
not sure I'd even *know* my neighborhood if it weren't for walking.
I know people talk about how much it helps their health to walk, and I
imagine it might help mine, but I was pretty healthy and pain-free before
I started walking, and I'm not so much now, so I'm not exactly the poster
child for health-through-walking. I don't care. Walking has enriched my
life so much that I often think to myself while I'm on one of these lovely
walks of ours (and sometimes I say it aloud), "If I died right this
moment, it would be in a moment of pure happiness, doing what I love."
And that might be the very best thing: I have connected with my inner joy
through walking. I have an hour or two or three a day, during these
walks, to either talk out what's going on with me, or to just be inside my
mind learning what makes me joyful. I can see the world I live in without
hurry or strain, and I can be as aware of my body as I've ever been. It's
like I slow my life down long enough to really look at it. This is really
joyful for me, and is the closest thing I have to a spiritual life, I
think.
Three years ago, walking was a chore -- not a difficult one, but boring
and not very pleasant -- and today it's a lifeline. I am so grateful that
I've found this beautiful, slow, refreshing, satisfying way of interacting
with my partner, my neighborhood, and my inner being.
experience it as dull and/or painful. This is not about you. This is
about me and a new love affair I have with walking. Feel free to skip it
if you'd rather not hear me burble about something you find dull,
distasteful, or painful.] Please excuse the line lengths, too, if they're
wonky. This is an email post that went in and out of the drafts folder
all day, which I find messes up the line lengths.
I have never minded walking. I always said that I could walk for miles,
and it was true. But usually, I didn't bother. I hopped in my car (or
onto the trolley) and went where I wanted to go, even if it was blocks
from the house. My favorite coffeeshop in San Diego was exactly a mile
from my apartment. I lived there for two or three years and walked to the
coffeeshop maybe two times, and then only because I had no other choice.
Then I met
general campaign to improve his health. And because it meant more time
with him, I became a walker, too.
At first, I didn't love it.
walked to some dull destination or other (the nearest being a mediocre
donut shop), and then had to walk uphill to get home. Not my favorite
thing to do, the walking, but there was also much laughing, talking, and
smooching, so it was still preferable to not walking.
Then we moved, and everything changed. Our new place was still on a hill,
but it was a gentle hill, and there were coffeeshops (and
bookstores, and grocery stores, and restaurants, and and and...)
everywhere! We walked. And walked and walked. Every day we explored
some more of our neighborhood. Every day, we had some time away from our
computers to just spend with each other and delight in our new hometown.
We learned where the good coffee and food were. We found Pokez, our
favorite Mexican place to this day. We decluttered our stuff and walked
it to the Goodwill. We talked about love and politics and god and the
universe and everything. As we fell more in love, walking became our
communion with our neighborhood and with each other.
As walking became more and more joyful, our concept of "walking distance"
morphed to where it's now essentially meaningless. Everything now
feels like walking distance to us -- it's just a matter of how much time
we want to spend doing it. We've noticed we try to give distances to
others in miles, because if we tell them someplace is in easy walking
distance, they might not be happy to find out it's a thirty-minute walk.
Around the time I met
began having some chronic hip and knee pain that hasn't let up. More
about that in the next post, about today's doctor's appointment. This
means that walking is not painless for me. In fact, most days, it's quite
painful. But walking has become essential to me. I miss a day and I
begin to feel restless in body and mind. I start to miss my time with my
love, and I get a little cranky.
Another thing: Walking is how I access the neighborhood-ness of the place
where I live. Because we walk, the neighborhood shop owners know us (and
give us cookies!). Because we walk, the neighbors smile and tell us we're
cute. Because we walk, we know when new local businesses are opening up,
and we get to see the first blooms of spring. We see our neighbors and
know some of their names. The neighborhood drug dealers are sweet to us
and invite us into their dice games (we surely look like suckers to them,
and we know better than to prove them right). None of the local merchants
bothers asking for ID any more. Local poly friends own the local game
store, and we may never have known that if we hadn't stopped by on a walk.
And so many other neighborhoody things. I love my neighborhood, and I'm
not sure I'd even *know* my neighborhood if it weren't for walking.
I know people talk about how much it helps their health to walk, and I
imagine it might help mine, but I was pretty healthy and pain-free before
I started walking, and I'm not so much now, so I'm not exactly the poster
child for health-through-walking. I don't care. Walking has enriched my
life so much that I often think to myself while I'm on one of these lovely
walks of ours (and sometimes I say it aloud), "If I died right this
moment, it would be in a moment of pure happiness, doing what I love."
And that might be the very best thing: I have connected with my inner joy
through walking. I have an hour or two or three a day, during these
walks, to either talk out what's going on with me, or to just be inside my
mind learning what makes me joyful. I can see the world I live in without
hurry or strain, and I can be as aware of my body as I've ever been. It's
like I slow my life down long enough to really look at it. This is really
joyful for me, and is the closest thing I have to a spiritual life, I
think.
Three years ago, walking was a chore -- not a difficult one, but boring
and not very pleasant -- and today it's a lifeline. I am so grateful that
I've found this beautiful, slow, refreshing, satisfying way of interacting
with my partner, my neighborhood, and my inner being.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 08:30 pm (UTC)It is very pleasant to read someone else's praise of someone or something I love.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 08:39 pm (UTC)I think this is a record...
Date: 2005-10-27 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 08:33 pm (UTC)*hug*
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 08:37 pm (UTC)Whoops.
Date: 2005-10-27 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 08:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 08:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 09:02 pm (UTC)It's also one of the things I miss about being in a city...having a neighborhood with places to walk to.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 09:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 05:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 09:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 09:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:07 pm (UTC)It's actually rather depressing. Here I am, enjoying the contrived beauty of the neighborhood, walking on the grass, and getting nothing but odd stares and eerie feelings from others. The veneer of suburbia is so thin. This is why I want to live in the woods, so I can enjoy nature and smile and be happy about it, sing and hum without feeling like (and be treated like) an odd duck.
You're very lucky to have someone to share your experiences with.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:35 pm (UTC)Re: In praise of walking
Date: 2005-10-27 10:13 pm (UTC)health, smealth. :)
Re: In praise of walking
Date: 2005-10-27 10:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 11:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 11:39 pm (UTC)it being painful for me actually makes me appreciate it all the more.
lovely post :)
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 01:37 pm (UTC)And thanks. :-)
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 11:43 pm (UTC)I don't walk as much as I could, but I walk, and we're coming into my favorite walking season: Fall and winter, when the Oregon rain keeps me from overheating (I have some midlife climate control issues). Lovelovelove walking in the rain.
My little town is, well, a little town. "Downtown" is a mere 6-7 blocks from my front porch, the park where the free summer concerts happen 8, the farmers' market 10, the theater where I hang out 11. Like you, I walk to stay connected, to see what's new.
I wish I worked there, too; the 12 miles to the town where I work is a bit far for walking. (-:
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 11:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 11:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 11:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 11:54 pm (UTC)I understand...
Date: 2005-10-28 05:18 am (UTC)As I gently mature, this is what I miss most of all about LDRs ... and with G & D both working away from home a lot right now, they're both part-time LDRs :-S
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 05:48 pm (UTC)No worries love. :) I know we're good at the sitting and as far as walking I'm not in
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 01:45 am (UTC)I miss being in places where walking was interesting instead of a chore. I used to walk quite a bit, but now the neighborhoods I have to walk through (my own, and the ones between where Caltrain stops in San Francisco and where I go to school) are dull or overcrowded or scary or depressing. I was much, much better about making time to walk when I liked where I was walking.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 05:19 am (UTC)