Why you should walk

OK, so our good friend Henry David Thoreau already made a pretty good argument as to why we should walk everywhere, especially during Bloomington’s most beautiful season.

He said, “Here is this vast, savage, hovering mother of ours, Nature, lying all around, with such beauty and such affection for her children, as the leopard; and yet we are so early weaned from her breast to society, to that culture which is exclusively an interaction of man on man.”

It is in our nature to be part of nature.

While I truly do agree with our most famous American transcendentalist, I would like to offer a bit of dissent.

Thoreau’s lecture was first read in the 1850s.

I’m sure that was a beautiful time to live, just on the cusp of the Civil War.    

The fact of the matter is that metropolises then had not yet overgrown existing forests.
Now, the nature he spoke of is not so readily available.

Bloomington residents have the privileges of Cedar Bluff and Griffy Lake, but what about us city folk?

Believe it or not, there are ways to enjoy walking without nature.

Walking raises your productivity level.

Getting to your destination plants a seed of achievement in you for the rest of your day.

This achievement encourages you to take on other tasks you thought might be a little inconvenient.

You’re also able to listen to music or an audiobook. Both of these activities might not be something you typically do.

This is a great opportunity to “read” “Moby Dick,” just like you always wanted to.

You could get at least 20 pages a day done.

In London, a 30-minute walk is nothing.

In Bloomington, it really isn’t that big of a deal either.

A 30-minute walk is my commute to school every day.

A 30-minute walk is a rational amount of time to spend getting from A to B.

In Bloomington, it takes less than 30 minutes to get form Briscoe to Jordan Hall.
City maps here give a radius of what’s in a 15-minute walking distance from your current location.

Walking is strongly encouraged, just as it should be in Bloomington.

Making the change between Bloomington and London hasn’t been a huge transition for me because I was always a walker, though it wasn’t until now that I realized exactly why.

It is a means of mental collection.

It is a means of hoarding the details of where you reside so you can one day come back to that memory or visit, when you have the time.

I might be preaching to the choir, but it’s because of walking that you’re able to become a more well-rounded person in building local knowledge.

Whether consciously or subconsciously, you’re absorbing your surroundings, your communal happenings, buildings you’ve never noticed before and strangers you’ve never encountered.

Walking can be a charity in benefit races.

Walking can even be a gesture you’re willing to make for someone you love, an expulsion of your bad energies and one of those rare times when you’re alone with your thoughts, without your computer screen.

Walking is a means of breaking in your boots, stepping on leaves, jumping in puddles, stretching your quads, doubling your heart rate and bettering your senses.

And, yes, this column is the most hoity-toity, self-indulgent piece of editorial fluff, but if you’re pissed about it, I offer one piece of advice.

Walk it off.

­— ftirado@indiana.edu