I wasted a decade jogging.
Then an overactive immune system damaged a knee and set me on the walking path. Walking is for anyone, but walking fast enough to lose yourself takes practice. You need to trust your joints to roll over terrain, eyes lifted to the wide horizon if you’re hiking, or reading the choppy waves and eddies of the foot traffic. The rhythm and flow offer an expansive, liberating feeling that allows you to free-associate as you step.
No need for podcasts or music. Just carry your own thoughts along.
I came to the easy movement quickly, aided by those years of running, because of toughened ankles and knees. All of those proprioceptors that sense the footfall and instantly rebalance the posture were already there. They improved with every rugged hike, and after mastering walking poles, I rarely need to look at my feet anymore.
I can see so much on foot when I lift my eyes from my feet. I can see the way forward, following the best line, flowing around obstacles, stepping small on the up, and bounding lightly downhill. And the practice is no hardship because every walk offers a reward of free-flowing thought. There are other rewards as you get stronger. I have discovered that you can only walk to the wildest places, far from the beaten track where no vehicle can go.
I recognize other walkers on the trail. They move with light steps and relaxed gaze. They are often on long-distance epics, carrying tiny packs, obviously needing little for the journey ahead.
I have also read about other walkers, on roads and trails, effortlessly covering 20 miles in a day. William Wordsworth took it to extremes, walking from village to village as he perambulated into the sublime, chancing one day upon his host of dancing daffodils.
Schopenhauer climbed Alpine paths in an endless search within. Others keep journals and bring landscapes to life with words. These walkers inspire me to keep going. When you don’t have to think about walking, your thoughts are free to wander.
Often my thoughts just leap forward as unbidden aphorisms. ‘A dance floor fills quickly’ was an admonishment against hesitation.
Other descriptions are sparked by events or chance observation. ‘Dance down the steps’ popped up when I saw a teenage girl pirouette down museum steps. What better way to approach a challenge than to dance down it?
‘First left at the moon’ when I saw a jet trail changing directions on a moonlit night as if it was choosing a different path to chase a dream.
‘As lost as a lone shoe on a sidewalk’ needs no explanation.
The thought comes and then rolls along, pushed and prodded into shape until it is ready to be recorded in a moleskin notebook kept for the occasion.
Perhaps my favorite to date, after a week of hard boot-breaking desert mountain tracks, and with more than a little irony:
‘The pursuit of happiness does not require movement.’
True, but as a free-wheeling walker I have found another path.