Why I Walk To Work

It’s harder, but it feels better

My office is exactly two miles from my apartment.  Whenever I walk into the lobby in the morning, my Apple Watch buzzes and shows a distance of precisely 2.00 miles.  The same goes for when I walk up to my apartment door at night.  It’s a perfect little bit of synchronicity, an easy measurement to let me know how much I’ve actively moved during the day.  Since my company now requires us to be in Monday through Thursday, that equates to 16 total miles walked throughout a given workweek, more than enough to offset any laziness or gluttony that occurs from Friday to Sunday.  But the reason I walk to and from work every day is not completely motivated by physical health.  There’s a mental and spiritual component to it as well.

I don’t need to walk to work.  It’s not as if I don’t have other options.  There’s a bus not far from my apartment that takes me down 2nd Avenue and drops me off right in front of my office.  But I always feel worse whenever I take the bus.  Walking gives me a sense of control—I’m in charge of the pace, the route, and how I get to my destination.  It’s a journey entirely of my own making.  I can turn where I want to turn, speed up or slow down when necessary, maybe even jaywalk across the street if I don’t see any cars coming.  Most of everything is dictated by me.  I like that.

Taking the bus is a totally different story.  Every aspect of it is influenced by other people.  First, you have to wait at the stop, huddled together with everyone else hoping to get on.  Sometimes there’s a big gap between buses, so the arriving bus is too crowded to fit everybody and you have to wait for the next one.  Then there’s the process of boarding, where everyone slowly shuffles through the doors, tapping their phones or credit cards on the kiosk to pay the fare, the same monotone beep repeating over and over again like a supermarket checkout counter.  Usually, there aren’t enough seats, so you end up standing the entire ride.  Even if there are open seats, I’ll defer to a woman, someone who is older, or people with kids.  Young, able-bodied men are the lowest priority when it comes to sitting down.  

So you’re standing side by side with everyone you were just standing at the bus stop with, except now you’re in a confined space so you’re even closer to each other, close enough to peer over everyone’s shoulders and see what they’re looking at on their phones.  I can’t fully explain it, but there’s something so incredibly weird and sad about watching people watch content on TikTok or Instagram.  It feels like you’re seeing something personal that wasn’t meant for an audience, like you walked in on them taking a poop.  And of course you get a little judgmental, like, “What the hell is going on with your algorithm where the app is serving you THAT?” until you realize that if anyone watched you watching TikTok they’d have the exact same thought.  The algorithm is so tailored to your personal experience and tastes that seeing someone else’s makes them appear inhuman and bizarre. 

But ANYWAY, at this point, you’re standing on the bus, and all you can do is wait.  You wait for the bus to make its way through traffic.  You wait for the bus to make its other stops, to open the doors and let current passengers off while allowing new passengers in, everyone moving at a snail's pace.  You wait for that asshole delivery driver to get out of the bus lane, but he won’t so the bus driver has to merge over into regular traffic, which takes forever because nobody wants to let a bus get in front of them, only for the bus to get stuck in the same gridlock as everyone else before it moves the necessary 10 feet to get around the asshole delivery driver who blocked the bus lane and caused this whole problem in the first place.

And then, once it’s all over, once you arrive at your destination and step off the bus, you have to go to work.  So yeah, I don’t care that the bus is physically easier and saves me 20 minutes.  I’d rather sweat it out and walk to work than deal with all of that before I’ve even checked my emails.

Beyond providing a sense of agency, walking has another benefit as well.  It clears your mind of whatever nonsense is rolling around up there.  There’s a sense of peace, calm, and clarity that comes from walking.  I’m certainly not the first person to notice this.  Look at what all of these famous philosophers had to say about the importance of taking a walk:

“Sit as little as possible; give no credence to any thought that was not born outdoors while moving freely about—nor to any idea in which the muscles do not also revel.” - Nietzsche

“Above all, do not lose your desire to walk: every day I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness; I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it.” - Kierkegaard

“The moment my legs begin to move, my thoughts begin to flow.” - Thoreau

“I can only meditate when I am walking. When I stop, I cease to think; my mind works only with my legs.” - Rousseau

What I’ve noticed about my walks is that walking to and from work each have distinct mental benefits.  When I walk to work in the morning, I’ve usually just finished writing for about an hour or so.  The ideas that I was thinking through are still percolating in the back of my head, and the act of walking brings more of them to the forefront.  There have been plenty of times where I’ve been struck with an idea, thought, or connection related to what I was writing earlier that morning, and I’ve had to stop my walk so I can type notes into my phone.  Walking literally makes me a better writer.  I get ideas for entire essays while walking to work in the morning—ideas I never would have had if I were just sitting down and typing at a computer, trying to will a thought into existence.

While my morning walk fuels my creativity, my evening walk serves a different purpose.  I think I like it even more than my morning walk.  Even though I’m moving through crowded New York City streets, my evening walk feels like personal time that creates a hard boundary between work and home.  If I’ve had a tough day at the office, walking is the liminal space that allows me to cool off and return to my default setting before I walk in the door of my apartment and greet my wife.  Not only does it allow me to ramp down mentally, forgetting about whatever annoying emails or Slacks I received over the past eight hours, but the act of walking also burns off a lot of the physical tension I might be carrying.  Frustration, grievance, and yes, even fatigue, dissipate with each step.  The body and mind are connected.  What’s good for one is usually good for the other.

I’ll be honest, this summer has been challenging when it comes to walking.  It’s been very hot, and we’ve had a lot of random storms pop up out of nowhere.  I’ve had to take the bus with more frequency, either to avoid the rain or because the temperatures are 90+ and I don’t want to be the sweaty guy at the office.  But that’s all coming to an end soon.  We’re about to hit peak walking season.  Fall is around the corner.  Crisp breezes will be a regular occurrence.  We’ll get to wear jackets that are warming but not too heavy.  More people will be carrying hot coffees.  Each step outside will feel like a gift, not an endurance test the way it does during July and August.  I’m looking forward to it.  And I’m not just looking forward to the walks either.  I’m looking forward to the ideas and peace of mind that come with them.