A good walk just might save my life

 

Me walking in the rain

Yesterday, I was so angry at the state of the world -- justifiably, I think -- that I actually thought for a few minutes I was giving myself a heart attack. I wasn't. But the rage I was feeling about everything manifested itself as, well, physical pain.

Since the beginning of August, I have been getting out every day to walk a couple of miles. Before that, I'd gotten very pandemic sedentary: My Apple Health app tells me I averaged 365 steps a day in July. That's bad. So I made a goal of 5,000 steps a day, and I've mostly stuck with it. It is the most consistent exercise I've gotten since 2002. (My body and I don't always have a great relationship. I'm kind of a "stuck in my head" guy.

Anyway, it was raining this morning. I walked anyway. Through the downtown of my suburbanish college town and back, through the park. And I felt something I hadn't felt in months, maybe years: Maybe it was joy? I don't know. It felt good, though.

The state of the world is cause for rage. And sometimes I have to live with that anger. But I am not capable of living with it so acutely. The walk let me listen to music -- I've gotten very deeply into comfort music of late (more on that later) -- but otherwise I wasn't staring at a screen, obsessing about things. I let my mind get to other places. Getting physical activity every day is good in its own right. But the mental health aspect is pretty important too. A good walk just might save my life.

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