Walking is good for the soul.
Walking is man’s best medicine.
-Hippocrates
Arctic air has sloshed down from Canada and it’s another really cold day. It’s cold enough that I have to listen to an internal voice that questions the wisdom of taking Waldo out for a 2+ hour walk. We’ve walked in worse weather, I tell that voice. Hell, it’s been almost six years now that Waldo and I have been out walking in the woods almost every day. That amounts to something like 15,000 miles or about 60% of the circumference of the earth at its equator, roughly five trips from Boston to San Francisco or a little more than four from Boston to Paris. I’ve worn out six pairs of hiking boots (I wear them until they start to disintegrate). Waldo and I have strolled through many a town, large and small, and bushwhacked through wooded country you can’t get to without going off road. We’ve seen scrub pine on Cape Cod and many and old oak and maple further inland. Our feet have pounded the ground on tarmac, sand and many a root and rock, tramped through swamps and over quite a few hills. From the western border with New York to the Atlantic Ocean in the east, we’ve wandered and explored. This is no time to wuss out.
There are so many trails out there in the world. I never much thought about it until I started walking with Waldo, but there are trails everywhere. Many are well marked and cared for, and some are little more than a hint of where someone else has passed. That speaks to just how many people enjoy a good walk. Before six years ago, I had no idea just how popular walking and hiking are. I knew a lot of people like to go out for a good jaunt, but not so many. Waldo and I have never been out walking without meeting someone, somewhere, and in all kinds of weather. We need to support to our community of fellow intrepid walkers by showing up. It’s just cold out. We’re not walking in a hurricane.
Besides, walking is basic to human well-being. It’s one of the first things we do after we’re born and we don’t stop even when we have the wherewithal to drive, fly or swim. A long walk improves our cardiovascular health and the strength of our bones and muscles. It helps us manage our weight, decreases blood pressure and helps lower blood sugar. Walking a good distance helps us develop good balance and coordination and a strong immune system. It also reduces stress levels and improves mood, cognition and sleep. It enhances creativity, improves focus and concentration and even aids in problem solving. And it keeps Waldo’s frenetic energy at bay. We gotta get out there, if we can, for our physical and mental well-being.
For me, taking Waldo out for a walk, even someplace we’ve been a thousand times (no exaggeration there) is also a way to get away from everyday concerns. It puts distance between me and my quotidian problems without having to go very far at all. When I was doing a lot of flying, I enjoyed looking down at the ground, many thousands of feet below, and feeling like I had, temporarily, escaped the world and its prosaic chains. Walking in the woods is a lot like that, but cheaper and more available. Now that I’m retired, I don’t have so many problems anymore, but I still feel the need to take a break from those I do have.
That stream of consciousness gets us to the beginning of the trail. Now committed, I put my head down and lean into the wind (there are gusts to 30 mph). I’m all zipped up from below the waist to up over my chin, hood is up and gloves are on. I purposely push my pace to the point where I’m breathing a bit more than normal so I can work up some body heat. It isn’t long until my face is numb and my fingers ache a little from the cold. But my core is nice and toasty and we’re good to go. Waldo is out front, excitedly rushing about doing his Waldo thing and isn’t bothered by anything other than the need to go.
After a little more than a mile, I’m warm enough that warm blood has gone to my cheeks and hands to dissipate the heat generated by my efforts. I can now relax into the experience and enjoy what’s around me. Waldo and I say hello to Willa, a golden retriever we’ve met before, and I give her a treat. I greet a couple of joggers as they pass. I watch the wind kick up some dust over the barren field that one day is supposed to be a new town park. It’s white and looks like steam rising over a hot spring. I see that Fort Meadow Reservoir is frozen over with a smooth thick sheet of ice. I feel the strength of my body as I exercise and am grateful that, at almost 76 years old, I’m still able to be out here, doing this. And enjoying it
And that is the real reason I’m out here.
I can tell by all of the tracks that I’m not alone in thinking so…