When in doubt, Go for a Walk
Walking won’t solve everything. But it won’t make anything worse.
That’s more than you can say for most things we do when we’re stressed, tired, or lost.
You walk to get out of your head. To breathe. To let your mind drift without crashing.
You don’t walk to fix the problem—you walk because you need space from it.
The world doesn’t look so cruel when you’re moving through it one step at a time.
You notice things. You remember you’re alive.
So when in doubt—go for a walk.
And now, something about two thousand years older:
“Solvitur ambulando.”
— Diogenes
Translation: It is solved by walking.
I love all of this. I couldn’t agree more.
Recently, I’ve taken to rucking:
Walking while wearing a weighted backpack.
I’ve been carrying a heavy packpack for a long time. It’s filled with everything I might need at almost any moment, and it’s almost always with me. When people lift my everyday backpack, they are often appalled by its weight.
Last time I checked, it weighed 18 pounds.
I use the same backpack when traveling, so I’ve spent a lot of time hiking through airports, hotels, and the like with it attached to my back. And when traveling, it gets heavier because it contains everything I need for two or three days on the road.
So after seeing my friend, Eddie, go rucking while I was visiting Washington, D.C., and reading about the numerous health benefits associated with rucking, I thought I might give it a try.
I’m sort of rucking in everyday life already. Why not try it as a form of exercise as well?
Today, I walk my neighborhood for 30-45 minutes at a time, carrying a specially designed rucking backpack containing 40 pounds of weighted plates.
It’s been great. Relaxing yet challenging—all the benefits of walking, along with a genuine workout.
When I don’t feel like riding my bike or simply want a change of pace, I now go rucking.
Walking is also one of the most appealing aspects of playing golf. I play almost all of my rounds with a bag on my back, walking the course, chasing my little, white ball.
Unless I’m playing a course that requires a cart, or I’m playing with someone who can’t walk the course due to age or injury, or I’m playing with someone who could walk the course but is too weak-willed or fancy to do so, I walk.
I put one foot in front of the other, with a bag on my back, grass under my feet, and trees and sky overhead.
Good for my body and even better for my mind.
It’s one of my favorite parts of the gam.
The oddity in all of this is that I don’t enjoy walking for walking’s sake. Going for a walk has never appealed to me very much. It’s exercise, but it feels like the lowest form of exercise — the very least you could do to elevate your heart rate and work your muscles.
It’s transportation — a means of getting from one place to another — but it also feels like the least efficient way to do so.
If I’m going to walk, I might as well ride my bike. Or chase a little, white ball. Or now, carry 40 pounds on my back.
As Fabian wrote:
“The world doesn’t look so cruel when you’re moving through it one step at a time.”
I’ll add:
I think it often looks pretty damn good while doing so.
