Daily writing prompt

How often do you walk or run?

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Some people run. Some cycle. Some climb mountains while wearing an assortment of brightly coloured, skin-tight gear. Me? I walk. And while it may seem like a simple, even mundane, act, for me, it’s a full-fledged philosophical statement, a workout, and a mini-vacation all rolled into one. It’s an easy way to enjoy time to myself, but it’s also a surprisingly social and environmentally conscious act.

For starters, let’s talk about the exercise. I’m not exactly built for speed, and the thought of a treadmill makes my soul shrivel a little. But walking? That’s a different story. It’s a quiet rebellion against the sedentary lifestyle, a gentle nudging of my body toward health without the public spectacle of a gym. It’s an honest-to-goodness workout that doesn’t require a playlist of motivational dance anthems or a subscription to a fitness app that shouts at me. A good walk gets the blood flowing, the muscles working, and the mind clear. I can feel virtuous without having to break out a single squat.

But the real magic of walking happens when you’re out and about. In a car, people are just blurs of angry metal and anonymous faces. On foot, they’re neighbours, fellow dog-walkers, and the friendly person behind the counter at the coffee shop. I’ve had more impromptu conversations about the weather, gardening tips, and the general state of the world while walking than I ever have in any other mode of transport. It’s an open invitation for human connection, a simple way to remind myself that the world is full of interesting people just going about their days.

Plus, I like to think of my walking habit as a small, personal act of eco-warrior heroism. Every time I choose my own two feet over a car, I’m casting a tiny vote for cleaner air and less road rage. It’s a quiet protest against the constant hum of traffic, a serene counterpoint to the rush hour chaos. It might not solve global warming, but it certainly makes my immediate neighbourhood a little more peaceful. And let’s be honest, nothing makes you feel more smug than strolling past a line of cars at a standstill, knowing you’re not stuck in that metal purgatory.

And finally, my favourite part: the solo time. My walks are my sanctuary. It’s a chance to unplug and just… think. I’ve solved more problems, drafted more ideas, and planned more meals on a walk than I ever have sitting at my desk. It’s a moving meditation, a chance to process the day without the constant pull of a screen or the demands of the world. It’s an easy and effortless way to recharge my mental batteries.

It seems I’m not alone in my preference. When you look back at the era of Jesus and the prophets, they were all about the long journey on foot. They walked everywhere, and they did it with a purpose. There were no horses, no fancy chariots, and certainly no traffic jams. They understood that the journey itself was as important as the destination, and that the best way to see the world—and connect with it—was to be fully present in it. They were, in essence, the original flâneurs, proving that walking is a timeless, sacred, and profoundly human act.