Alexandersmap

    Category: Walking

    • Crunchy Meditation

      There’s nothing like a long walk to sort things out and help you forget about the madness in the world.  Last week New Hampshire received a few inches of heavy, wet snow. Once walked upon, slushy snow becomes a clutter of footprints.  Let it freeze and that snow becomes a crunchy, treacherous mine field.  And such was the state of the Windham Rail Trail on my Sunday walk.  Micro spikes over hiking boots answered most of the challenge, and a little care on where you stepped solved the rest.  A long walk alone became crunchy meditation, with a good workout as a bonus.

      About three miles into the walk I came across a column of deer tracks crossing perpendicular to the rail trail.  Nothing surprising in that; this is deer country here in Southern New Hampshire after all.  But I found the tracks fascinating anyway.  The deer walked in a line like Native American warriors or Roger’s Rangers would have done when this area was contested frontier.  In the case of warriors and rangers it masks the numbers from the adversary.  I wondered if the deer instinctively mask their numbers or just follow the leader to minimize the calorie burn of moving through snow.  The latter makes sense, doesn’t it? In winter where calories equal survival efficiency in movement means everything.

      For me the goal was just the opposite of the deer: burn as many calories as possible in two hours of walking and be outdoors as an active participant in winter. Mix in a visually interesting trek on rough terrain and this afternoon’s 10,000 (+!) steps scored a high bliss rating. And who doesn’t need more bliss in the short, dark days of January?

    • The Sound of Sleet

      Dark and quiet street, with sleet falling lightly, providing a soundtrack for only me. This isn’t dent your car sleet, rather it’s the granular bits of ice that tickle your nose as they bounce off it kind. The granules gently ricochet off every surface until finding a resting place. The sleet makes different sounds based on what it makes impact on. Dead oak leaves that refuse to let go their grip on the tree they sprouted from offer a snare drum, while other hard surfaces give a chorus of thousands of tinny taps. My feet make short work of the ice granules with their own steady beat; “crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch...” and on it went until I retired to the house. The sound of sleet followed me inside. It was just what I needed to hear.

    • Better For Having Done So

      2019 was a year of change for all of us, as every year is, but it felt more profound this year. That has everything to do with writing about it. I know people who made changes on a massive scale, and others minor, but change happens whether we choose it or not. In the spirit of self-improvement as we enter the New Year, here are some small changes in routine that offered a profound return on time invested:

      Coffee consumption doesn’t seem like a big thing, but ever since I switched to the AeroPress I’ve reduced my daily coffee consumption, favoring one or two amazing cups to savor over multiple cups of average coffee from a Kurig or drip coffee maker.  I’ve reduced my personal plastic waste significantly as well.  I’d estimate that I’ve subtracted about 500 used K-cups from the landfill just making the switch.  I wish I’d done this years before, both for the reduction in waste and for the exceptional coffee the AeroPress makes.  On a side note, since the London and Scotland trip I’ve increased my tea consumption, switching coffee about half the time for tea, and find it a nice enhancement for my daily steaming hot beverage.

      Reading every morning, beginning with a quick read of The Daily Stoic for a jump start and moving to whatever book I was chewing on at the time, has built a routine and habit streak that has greatly enhanced my personal philosophy, helped me to know more about the history of the place I live and places I traveled to, opened my mind to spirituality and changed my perspective on a few things. I’ve read more and better books in 2019 and chewed through a few brilliant books that mocked me for years sitting on my bookshelf.  Nothing improves the mind like active participation in The Great Conversation.

      Educated travel in 2019 was enhanced by the reading, as you might imagine, but became a mission in itself.  Major trips to London, Scotland and Chicago were enhanced with educating myself about the places I was going, adding things I would have missed and subtracting things that may have been good but replaced with things that were amazing.  But this really became powerful for me in local travel.  Local travel took on new meaning for me with quick side trips to see the Saratoga Battlefield while I was in the Capital Region in New York and Fort Niagara in Buffalo, New York and Fort Western in Augusta, Maine.  I’ve hiked the trails in Ithaca, New York to see the stunning waterfalls in winter and spring, stopped at lonely graveyards to see the tombstone of Revolutionary War heroes and walked in dress shoes on soggy battleground sites deep in the off-season.  Educated travel offers a greater sense of place, and I’m better for having made the time to learn about and then visit these places.

      Writing every day has changed me completely.  The daily cadence, the skills acquired, and the deliberate action in the previous two habits to enhance the daily writing offered far more to me than any other daily routine.  We’ll see where it takes me in 2020, but wherever it goes, you’ll read about it on this blog.

      Walking has always been a part of my life.  I used to walk home from school four miles instead of taking the bus just to get away from the noise and secondhand smoke that was a part of bussing teenagers home back in those days.  When my dog Bodhi got older and passed away in 2019 the walks had decreased in length, and I found myself missing the nightly routine of walking for an hour with him looking at stars.  So I started walking again to get that minimum 10,000 steps, but also to come alive again.  Doing those steps on the beach or the rail trail or walking around the block at a random hotel somewhere became a mission.  I’m currently on a 19 day streak of 10,000 steps per day, managing to get my steps in through the holidays and hopefully for a long time to come.  I know I won’t always have the time to do it with work, but then again, what’s more important than maintaining a base level of fitness?  Walking is easy, and hasn’t caused nagging injuries like the burpees did for me.  When I can’t walk outside I’ll read on the treadmill, magnifying the font to crazy sizes so I maintain good posture.  But I double down on two habits and feel better for having done so.  So I’ll keep moving, and add other activity to enhance my fitness whenever possible.

      Looking at 2020, I’m not looking at resolutions as much as what can I add to my daily routine that will pay off over time?  And the answer for me is language acquisition.  Being bilingual or multilingual is nothing unusual in the rest of the world, but in American we tend to stick with English.  I think I’ve got my head wrapped around that one already.  Nothing improves travel like knowing the local language, and nothing challenges the brain like learning to speak it, so it’s time to get back on track.  I’ve dabbled in French, Spanish and Portuguese over the years, and it’s time to double down on learning two of them.  French and Spanish are the leading candidates, but I have a soft spot in my heart for Portuguese and may explore the language a bit as well.  Let’s see where this takes me.

    • Restlessness Met Sadness And They Both Smiled In Recognition

      Life is like the 55 meter indoor hurdles run by klutzes for its briefness and the lack of elegance with which we all get through it.  Family gatherings during the holidays offer the opportunity to take stock.  How have you been and what are you dancing with now?  Jamming multiple family events into one day means not spending enough time with any one person, but instead getting quick downloads between eating too much and taking pictures for posterity and InstaGram.  The latter offers immediate notification of what you’ve been up to for your followers (some of whom are in the picture), the former is the path highlighted for you years later when everything has changed.

      In the last family event of the night, after all the caloric intake and the unwrapping of gifts and the catching up on what you’ve been up to, I realized I was way too warm and needed a walk outside in the cool air.  Looking at my watch I calculated how realistic it was to hit 10,000 steps and weighed it against the limited time I have with these people in my life.  I settled on a quick walk around the block and resigned myself to getting the rest done in the shrinking time left in the evening.  I’d get over the mark eventually, with an hour to spare in the day.  Should’ve knocked it off first thing in the morning but such are the holidays.

      When I have a goal in mind I get restless, and sitting in a chair for hours isn’t going to cut it for me, so it wasn’t long before I needed to walk around the house a bit.  So I left the crowded room to walk around the kitchen and into the formal living room, built for showing furniture that people don’t sit on.  There standing by the door was the oldest aunt of my wife, waiting for a ride home that wouldn’t come for awhile as my father-in-law chatted in the other room with my kids.  In that moment she looked like a teenager, though she is dancing with 90, waiting by the door to go.  We talked about sports she used to play, for she was a very active in tennis and skiing for much of her life, and her eyes welled up as she talked about not doing those things anymore.  We smiled and talked and eventually it was time to go and we opted to bring her back to her apartment and chatted more with her as we drove.

      My restlessness met her sadness and they recognized each other.  The sadness was rooted in her own frustrated restlessness, doomed to an older body and an aging mind battling dementia.  She missed Thanksgiving on a bad day, but on Christmas she was lucid and sharp, seeking out conversation and connection.  And we connected and smiled at stories of past glories, recent small victories and setbacks overcome.  And I thought about my own restlessness and wondered when it would meet sadness again.  We all look in the mirror and see our story.  If I’m lucky enough to get there I want the sadness in my old age to be for the things I can no longer do, not the things I never did.

    • Sorting Out The Walk

      The funny thing about walking 10,000 steps every day is that I don’t lose weight doing it.  10K is a minimum recommendation after all.  But I’m healthier for having done it.  At the very least I’m not eating or drinking when I walk, so those calories float away.  But walking 10-12K isn’t going to burn a lot of calories.  I know from experience that if I’d rowed every day for the amount of time that I walked, I’d lose weight pretty quickly.  And with the holidays here perhaps I should be rowing more to get ahead of the calories.  But I like to walk and so I do it.  I feel the mild ache in the morning and know that I’ve been doing something positive.  Back when I rowed we’d call it the good kind of sore.  That rowing soreness was a whole body sore.  Walking is a different sore altogether, but still good.

      I tend to walk early in the morning or late in the evening.  When you walk in the neighborhood in the middle of the day it turns into a chat instead of a walk.  At night the neighbors notice me walking as they drive by or call in their barking dog (thanks), and I carry a flashlight so they know it’s just me, walking again.  I give a wave and explain away this walking at night behavior with a generic “gotta get those 10,000 steps” statement, at which they smile knowingly.  Or maybe uncomfortably, as in just humor him and let’s move on.

      Walking feels like forever only when I’m trying to check that 10,000 step box.  On the treadmill this is misery because it takes so long.  Walking outside I forget that I’ve got this goal of 10K and just walk, and it just happens.  There’s a lot to be said for being outside, when outside offers solitude anyway.  Yeah, there’s that too.  I’m a social being and enjoy walking with other people, but there’s a lot to be said for walking alone too.  I try to sort things out as I walk.  I assess my general health when I walk (Why is my heart racing going up this hill?  Too much caffeine?).  Or sometimes I don’t think about anything and just look at the stars and, this time of year, the Christmas lights in the neighborhood.  But mostly I walk, and feel better for having done so.  And isn’t that the point?

    • My Holy Trinity of Habits

      Walking 10,000 steps a day doesn’t make the scale move much, but the walking offers benefits beyond incremental movement of the scale. Writing a blog every day doesn’t move the needle much on reader count or followers, but the writing has changed me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Reading books every day seems elementary on the surface, but it’s amazing how quickly distractions conspire against you. As we near the end of the year and decade, I’m thinking about current streaks I’m on, and recommitting for as long as I can control the future.

      10,000 steps is my oldest and most current objective. I’ve been a walker since I was a kid, well before people thought about how many steps you walked in a day. Actually tracking it came late in life, right about when we got a dog. I’d tracked rowing and how many reps I did, but walking? Not until I started sitting for long periods of time for work. My current streak is only six days, but I’ve doubled down on my commitment to 10K per day. This week I’ve done that walking in three states, on rail trails, on the beach, in the neighborhood at night and, gulp, on the treadmill. Last night I walked 90 minutes while reading just to check a box. Today I hope to get there without using electricity.

      I committed to reading every day last year, and have managed to do so even when social media, long drives and work commitments made it challenging. How? By reading first thing in the morning before I do anything else. I used to exercise first, but my body needs a little time to wake up beforehand, and the reading and writing filled right in. To keep the reading streak alive I’ve got to read at least a couple of pages to “count”, but almost always ready many more. As we approach the end of the year it’s spiked even higher.

      No streak has meant more than the writing streak, which began over a year ago. I’ve written and posted on this blog every day this year and plan to keep this streak going. You might fancy yourself a writer but if you aren’t doing it then you’re a dreamer. I’m tired of telling myself stories. Blogging has brought me to places I’d never have been, as I look for interesting things to write about. Reading obviously compliments this, and so too does walking. While 10K hasn’t always been achieved I do walk every day. It’s the Holy Trinity for me, reading, writing and walking. Each reinforces the other, and I grow as a result. Other habits come and go, but these three offer a lifetime of service. So as I post this I’m 2/3 through my daily habits. I’d better getting moving on number three…

    • Four Songs for Late Night Walks and Long Drives

      “Lay your blouse across the chair
      Let fall the flowers
      From your hair
      And kiss me
      With that country mouth
      So plain
      Outside the rain is tapping
      On the leaves
      To me it sounds like
      They’re applauding us
      The quiet love
      We’ve made
      Will I always feel this way
      So empty
      So estranged?” – Ray Lamontagne, Empty

      Some songs stay with you forever.  Empty is one of those songs.  I’ve had it playing in my head off and on for 13 or 14 years now. But it’s on the list of songs I usually save for myself, not on playlists at parties or around the fire. Empty is a song that catches you in the throat so thoroughly that you’re reluctant to share it.

      Some songs are for late night walks and long drives, and some are for the masses.  Here are a few more songs I mostly keep for myself on those lonely stretches of highway… until now anyway:

      “When there’s nowhere else to run
      Is there room for one more son
      One more son
      If you can hold on
      If you can hold on, hold on” – The Killers, All These Things That I Have Done

      I first heard this song on a borrowed CD from a friend.  I kept that CD way longer than I should have, and think about that person when I hear this album.  And it’s a complete album worthy of listening to from beginning to end many times over, but this song remains the one that stays with me years later.  Good dose of pep talk with some soaring music, and who doesn’t need some of that?

      I’ve wanted this for so long
      Now the deed has been done
      We shall rise with the sun
      And spend our time as one – One Eskimo, Amazing

      I had it all planned out to play this song in a quiet moment at the wedding of some friends.  It’s the perfect song, really, for a moment like that at a wedding.  It sneaks up on you as your sort of listening, and I tactfully placed it at a moment when I just knew it would make an impact.  But the computer didn’t recognize the song and played Aerosmith’s song Amazing instead.  Not quite the same – and the moment was gone.  That still bugs me.  But the song remains great, and it was the thought that counted….  right?

      At the moment of surrender
      I’m falling to my knees
      I did not notice the passers by
      And they did not notice me – U2, Moment of Surrender

      I’ve been a huge U2 fan since I was a teenager, but No Line On The Horizon took a bit longer to grab me than others did.  Longer as in maybe ten listens instead of three.  But this album holds on longer than some of the other albums in their catalog.  Moment of Surrender was recorded in one take as I understand it, and it’s stunning.  Sure, I play the incredible and vibrant songs like Breathe and Magnificent and Stand Up Comedy at parties all the time, but this one I keep for myself.  Breathe remains my favorite song on this album, but Moment of Surrender is a close second.

    • Beach Sand Reset

      This was one of the most unproductive mornings I’ve had in some time.  I wrote and deleted two blog posts because they were crap.  Work slid sideways and never got back on the runway.  Out of sorts with just about everything this morning.  These things happen, and I tried working through it for awhile…  with limited success.  So I decided to take a walk at lunch, and decided it had been too long since I’ve walked the beach on Plum Island.  Walking on the beach is great any time of year, but my favorite time is winter.  I saw three people and two dogs the entire walk, benefiting greatly in my isolation for walking in the middle of a work day in winter.  But that’s why I went there.

      The surf was up, offering a wonderful soundtrack to compliment the rhythmic swish, swish of my feet marching across damp, cold sand.  The beach is a traveling art show, with sand sculptures carved by the wind and waves moving from place to place, always different from the last exhibit.  Snow from last night clumped in patches here and there with greatest success on driftwood and the dune grass.  Tiny sand ridges formed from receding waves created Etch A Sketch-like graffiti on the beach; here in this moment, but gone with the wind and high tide.  Driftwood and sea glass and millions of shells mixed into the sand, clumped into patterns by the previous high tide.  I continued my march with purpose, aiming for the Mouth of the Merrimack River.  This was about a 2 1/2 mile round trip, which fit in with the amount of time I had while serving as a good workout with the give of the sand.

      I came across a child’s footprints in the sand running in circles, as children do, going this way and that; directionless.  And I thought to myself, that’s what brought me to the beach today too.  I’d begun the day with high hopes, got distracted by figuring out the logistics of getting from here to the tropics with no real time to work with, and found myself spiraling into a completely unproductive morning.  So the beach was a reset, a chance to clear my head and figure things out.  Ten year plans that break into what am I doing next week kind of thinking.  And some of that got done, but mostly I checked another 10K box and regained my focus on writing.  And when I got back to my work settled back into a groove with that too.  Good things happen when you get outside.  And when outside is a quiet beach all the better.

    • Checking Off the 10K Box

      Rain and warm tropical air swept into New Hampshire last night, melting the snow and creating swirls of thick radiation fog that muted the Christmas lights twinkling throughout the neighborhood.  It’s been awhile since I walked after 10 PM on the street, and there are reasons.  Mostly it’s the loss of Bodhi, who was my walking buddy for 14 years.  This was our time to be outside watching the sky change and listening to the faraway sounds of a car moving down the road or a train rumbling along on its way between Boston and Maine.  That track is five miles away with hills and valleys separating us, but you can hear that freight train in the still of the night.  Last night offered nothing but quiet and drifts of fog and tropical warmth stroking your face as you walked.  Strange, this feeling, when there’s a foot of snow still on the ground.

      I’ve refocused on that 10,000 step objective.  I need to move more, and it’s a good round number.  I now use an Apple Watch to track, a gift from my wife, instead of the Fitbit, which was also a gift from my wife (which in turn replaced an older model Fitbit, also, you guessed it, a gift from my wife – I believe she might be telling me something).  We rarely walk together; she’s a runner and gets her miles in that way, I’m a never runner and get my miles the slower way.  Embrace your differences and the marriage works.  And this difference had me walking while she was shopping.  I’d rowed 5000 meters at lunchtime, so I didn’t feel I needed a workout as much as I needed to keep the streak alive.  Life gets busy, and goals can slip away in the frenzy of a workweek, and especially during the holidays.  Would I love to be hiking in the White Mountains or on the Appalachian Trail every day, or on edge of the surf line on the beach?  Of course, but I’m working with what I have, where I am.  And where I am is not so bad.  I tell myself that a lot in all things, not just walking.  You become reflective and grateful when you walk far enough.

      I don’t take it for granted, this ability to walk at 10 PM down the middle of the street, with  little thought to my personal safety.  When you live on a cul du sac in a small New Hampshire town this is what you get, but I remain the only walker.  Neighbors are watching television, reading or sleeping, and you can tell which by the flicker of light against a window or the darkened house.  The neighborhood is aging, and that shift is apparent at 10 PM on a Monday night.  Most of the kids have grown and moved away, or are away at college.  Those who moved in with younger kids have them tucked in bed while their parent’s shop online for gifts.  And I’d be tucked in bed myself, but for this 10,000 step box I have to check.  Conflicting goals of getting more sleep and checking a box..  but the walk will help the sleep and so I go.  I’d walked around the inside of the house for a few minutes, thought about how ridiculous it was for me to do laps around the living room and kitchen and slipped my raincoat on and went outside.  And as the pedometer on my watch moved past 10K and I turned to home I remembered the joy of walking on a quiet night, now just me and my thoughts.

       

       

       

    • The Magic Snow Carpet

      Sunday offered the perfect combination of bright sunshine and cold temperatures to be outside. A walk around the block is nice, a walk in the woods is better, but I opted to meet in the middle and picked a rail trail walk. Rail trails are usually paved, and as the name implies they run straight for miles following old railroad beds. The advantage is good footing with much of what a walk in the woods offers. With early snow last week the rail trail was a highway of packed powder extending for miles, a snowmobiler’s dream for sure, and I’m grateful that they groomed the trail for the rest of us.

      The Windham Rail Trail changes with every season. We’re deep into a New Hampshire winter now, even if “winter” doesn’t officially begin until December 21st. Snow came early and lingers with sustained freezing temperatures. Perfect conditions for cross-country skiers and snowshoeing, and I saw a few of each out on the trail. With the packed powder I opted for micro spikes on my boots and never regretted the choice. Walking for miles on packed powder snow is a similar workout to walking on beach sand, with just enough give to increase the workload but not so much that your progress is stalled; 10,000 steps with a little extra effort.

      Today it all changes, with warm temperatures and rain washing away the magic snow carpet I traveled on. By tomorrow night it will be a slushy mess with bare spots. And then Wednesday brings colder temperatures and new snow and a completely different trail will emerge. The old expression about New England weather saying to wait five minutes and it will be completely different applies especially well to the rail trail. I’m happy to have caught it when conditions were perfect, but I suspect I’d have enjoyed it no matter the conditions. To be outside is to accept the world as it comes to you, a perfectly stoic outlook.