What Walking (Almost) Every Day Taught Me

I, like many others in the spring to fall of this crazy year, have been constantly craving reasons to go outside and move around. I’m not much of a runner, and pretty much any sport is out of the question, so I’ve picked up the simplest of human movements — walking.

Walking has always been an opportunity for me to clear my head, maybe call a loved one, and generally zone out of whatever stressors I may have been dealing with. Now more than ever, it serves as a chance to re-center myself while also seeing other human beings again (from a safe distance). In the last few months, I’ve walked 2-4 miles every day I have the chance to. Which, as a part-time employee without too many other strains on my time at the moment, is extremely often. In the many hours I’ve now spent putting my feet to pavement, I’ve had time to think about my view of myself, my values and the place I call home. Here are a few things I’ve realized:

The human body is made to move.

With so much of our lives happening from home right now, having a few moments to step away from a screen and get your blood moving is a near-euphoric experience. I’ve gotten to a point where if I’m not able to walk, I’ve missed an important part of my routine. It’s as if I can feel my muscles atrophy as I sit watching my third episode in a row of The Real Housewives. 

That might be a bit extreme, but on the days I walk I sleep better, eat better and stay in a generally cheerier mood than I do on the days I don’t. The 10,000 step goal is sometimes a bit too much to expect, but even getting some fresh air for a quick 20 minute stroll can make all the difference in my mood and view of myself. 

Nashville is changing by the minute.

I tend to walk the same route pretty often and pick up on subtle changes along the way — but nothing compares to walking through a different neighborhood for the first time in a while and seeing an entirely new building or empty lot where one used to be. In the past few weeks it feels like every road in Nashville has been repaved. It’s been so tempting throughout quarantine to feel like the world is standing still, but these tangible changes in our city’s landscape are sometimes startling reminders that time is still moving and Nashville isn’t letting any of it go to waste. 

Being in a walkable area is a privilege.

Before there were cars, bikes or Bird scooters, we as humans were geographically bound by how far our own two feet could carry us. The idea of traveling miles to fulfill some need was not only unappealing, it was impossible. Today, our streets are designed for cars. When we’re lucky there will be a small sidewalk and narrow bike lane, but these simply don’t exist in so many neighborhoods. When our options for getting from Point A to Point B are made to accommodate two ton heaps of metal moving 20 times faster than us, the reluctance to put ourselves in their way is understandable. 

And even in neighborhoods with designated walking paths, the issue of distance can be a problem. As much as I love walking in a loop down Belmont Boulevard and up 12 South, there’s something so much more rewarding about walking to complete an errand you had to do anyway. I’m incredibly lucky to have a grocery store, restaurants, coffee shops and UPS within a mile of my house — with generally well-constructed paths to each. But in other areas of Nashville, entire neighborhoods are becoming food deserts with (mostly low-income) residents traveling up to 3 miles to get the food they need (WPLN). If you’re lucky enough to have the places you need within walking distance, don’t take it for granted.

Calling friends or family makes the time disappear.

On a busy day, I usually do this to make myself feel like I’m making the most of every minute while still doing the things that make me feel grounded. I try to call my parents once a week for about an hour, and that just happens to be the usual length of my walks. But when I’m wrapped in conversation I don’t even realize how far I’m walking. Sometimes I hang up and realize I’ve ended up in a completely different part of town. A little cathartic, a little creepy, but definitely not the worst way I’ve spent an afternoon. 

Listening to an album is entirely different than shuffling songs on a playlist.

A playlist can be great for so many things — writing, cleaning the house, long car rides. But such a different feeling comes from listening to an album front to back as the artist intended. Before quarantine I was honestly a playlist girl most of the time, but I think a slowed pace and more intentional mindset have given me the ability to better appreciate a collection of songs by the same artist. When I’m walking, usually the only thing on my mind is setting one foot in front of the other; the rest of my attention goes to whatever I’m hearing. After recognizing the level of thought that goes into organizing a tracklist or cutting out certain songs I don’t think I’ll ever view an album in the same way again. 

There are very few situations you can’t walk away from.

Let’s be real. This year has been exceptionally stressful for so many reasons. Beyond the obvious global pandemic, nearly everyone I know has dealt with personal issues or general discontentment of some kind. Something that helped me was entering the mindset of quite literally walking away from my stressor. I would envision whatever was causing me grief as tied to a fixed location, then walking as far as I could away from it. Most of the time it worked, sometimes I would bawl my way down Belmont Boulevard. Either way, it kept me out of my bed where I could honestly wallow for hours. It’s not a fix-all solution, but it’s something that made me feel a little bit more in control.