Five years ago today, I put in my earbuds and went for a walk. I even blogged about it a few days later!
Ever since then, I've walked pretty much every single day for roughly 2.5 miles. In the beginning, I mentioned being legalistic about it. I got over that pretty quickly. There are days when I don't walk because I do weights and balance exercises at home (once every 7-10 days). There are days when I know I'm going to be walking a lot or getting other exercise that I don't make it a point to walk. There are days when I have an early appointment and don't have time.
But I'm guessing that about 98% of the time, I roll out of bed, throw on my shoes (and sometimes an extra pair of pants, gloves, a hat, and a coat... but maybe not this winter??), and take off. I listen to podcasts most of the time. Sometimes I talk on the phone with my parents or my sister. Very often, I'm back from my walk before anyone I know is even awake. This time of the year, that means it's dark for most of my walk.
I've seen some gorgeous things on these walks. Sunrises, flowers, wild animals (raccoon, skunk, fox, coyote, armadillo), feral cats, free-range dogs, amazing clouds, the construction of home after home...
Sometimes it gets tedious, walking the same few miles over and over. But I've noticed that on the days I don't start that way, I feel less focused and settled.
I've walked well over 4000 miles on these morning treks. I've gone through 4 pair of sneakers. I've learned that having a good pair of shoes is the difference between the blisters I mentioned in the first post and not even thinking about my feet at all. Hard lesson for a cheapskate like me, but I do enjoy being able to get from here to there without limping.
I've also learned a lot from the podcasts I listen to, from American History Tellers to Reveal to Maintenance Phase to various Spanish-language podcasts. Sometimes I just need some entertainment and will put on Handsome or Selected Shorts. Other times I want to feel inspired, so I listen to The Moth or Story Corps. Occasionally my brain just wants to be alone with itself so I just listen to the birds and my feet crunching the gravel.
I don't like to carry water, especially when it's cold, so I usually chew gum to keep my mouth from drying out. There are mornings when I take a red flashlight because there's no moon and we don't have streetlights, but I also don't want to contribute to light pollution. On the rare occasion, I'll stop by a convenience store to see if any of their energy drinks are on sale and might pick up a couple of those.
I've walked the dry lake bed. I've gingerly made my way down steep rocky trails I'm not sure how they got there. I've come upon homeless people sleeping in a tent in the greenbelt or with just a blanket on a sidewalk near the bus stop. I've had to stop to catch my breath on a hill, then realized months later that it's not as challenging anymore.
Another thing I've done is that everywhere we've traveled since January 6, 2021 (yes, that January 6), I've looked at Google Maps to plan where I'll walk if the occasion arises. I've walked all around Temple, where my parents live. I've walked through Wickenburg when we've visited James's mom. I've walked from a hotel to a nature preserve in the dark to watch the sunrise in Sonora, Texas, on a road trip. I walked the liminal underground passages in downtown Oklahoma City. I even broke tradition once and rented a bike in Montreal to bike across the Jacques Cartier Bridge to Île St. Helene, Île Notre Dame, and across to Habitat 67.
This kind of movement has become a priority to me for both my mental health and for the longevity of my mobility (hopefully). And often, for the sheer joy of seeing a bunch of vultures staring at me from their perches in the trees 40 feet above me in the Canyonlands Trail.
Happy anniversary to me! (But not to anyone involved in that other thing that happened on the same day this good habit started.)
