I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least— and it is commonly more than that— sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields absolutely free from all worldly engagements.
Henry David Thoreau, “Walking”
Henry David Thoreau may “have met but one or two persons in the course of [his] life who understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks, who had a genius, so to speak, for sauntering.” But, after reading over this week’s posts, I would hazard that I know at least four writers who have a knack for such sauntering, of seeing the connection between the seemingly pedestrian matters of training and fitness and the higher exercises of the mind. For these writers, working out is something one does not just in the gym, but also on the page.
I close this week with Thoreau because I think he provides a much-needed corrective to conversations currently taking place around health and fitness, especially in America. A certain Puritan work ethic pervades our fitness magazines. Covers cajole us to train harder, run faster, bike longer. Even walking must be done with purpose and austerity, as figured in the “power-walker.” No doubt, Thoreau would be horrified. Exercise, so conceived, becomes a heroic act of will one must constantly re-enact lest one backslide into apathy and gluttony. But when I think of exercise like this, I can’t help but reach for a fluffy pillow, rationalizing,
I’ll work out better after a good nap.
What I like about Thoreau’s sauntering is the notion that one might cultivate a more relaxed relation to (physical and mental) exercise— “working out” as a meandering rather than a mission.
Thoreau also understands that to compartmentalize fitness from other aspects of one’s life is mere folly:
the walking of which I speak has nothing in it akin to taking exercise, as it is called, as the sick take medicine at stated hours— as the swinging of dumb-bells or chairs; but is itself the enterprise and adventure of the day. If you would get exercise go in search of the springs of life. Think of a man’s swinging dumb-bells for his health, when those springs are bubbling up in far off pastures unsought by him.
A lifestyle coach if ever there was one, Thoreau urges us to view health holistically, as something that permeates all our daily activities. For Thoreau, walking, thinking, sleeping, eating, and writing are not mutually exclusive, but one in the same.
In his essay “The Power of Perambulation,” John Monczunski of Notre Dame Magazine offers this little exercise:
Forty-five minutes to an hour probably will yield at least one productive insight. Some recommend this formula: State the problem, forget the problem and wait for an answer. Once you’ve posed the question in this way, take a hike. More often than not you’ll get a surprisingly good answer.
I invite everyone this week to “take a hike”— or, rather, a “saunter.” Then, share your experiences, insights and favorite pedestrian haunts with us.
Allen Durgin is the editor of Blog Further.
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October 19th, 2009 at 6:33 pm
[…] hurts, but I’ve returned to those half-understood lessons from the past four decades: walking, that most pedestrian of exercises, is about exploration, protection, […]