By linking local forest trails, I have created a one mile loop called the Racetrack. An alternate set of trails provides a three mile loop. These measured tracks allow dialing in an exact number of exercise miles in a walk therapy session.
Today I found a small black spider making its tentative way across the hard packed snow of the Racetrack. I was unaware spiders operated year round and was amazed to see this one carefully tip toeing on all six legs as he made his way across the cold snow pack. So amazed that I failed to take a photograph.
The past week resulted in a great many problems. I do not want to call the experience a mental fog (I experienced this in the acute phase after the injury), but there was a sense of something similar, a sense of being overwhelmed, of being barely able to keep up with day to day events. Today, I had an insight into the possible reason for this.
When I saw Dr D on Friday, I described my winter walk efforts as expeditions. I have undertaken many wilderness backpacking trips, several of them with Colin. Getting away from civilization requires an enormous amount of planning. There is no joy in hiking into the middle of nowhere only to discover you have forgotten to pack the bug repellent, the stove fuel, matches, soap, or toilet paper. My winter walks duplicate this same sense of effort.
Today, as I was greeting the spider on the Racetrack, and granting him the right of way until he made it safely across, I realized that while he was on his way to somewhere, I was simply going in circles. The forecast threatened rain but there was no need to worry about becoming drenched and hypothermic as I was never more than 30 minutes from home. There was no need to worry about getting to my destination on time – I didn’t have a destination. And, if you are going about in circles, wherever you are also happens to be the place you are trying to reach as your destination. You may experience the pleasure of having arrived before you have even set off on the trip. There was no timetable. There was no need to contemplate a future meeting. There was nothing to be done apart from the pure joy of being in the forest, submerged in the quiet, watching the spider as he made his slow way across the track.
During the past week there have been multiple expeditions outside of my local walk-shed. Each time I ventured out, I studied the changing weather forecasts, tried to determine what garments to wear, and what additional garments to carry. There was an attempt to plan other activities that might be combined with a hike to a distant part of town. I made lists of things to mail, or buy, or investigate. Last week I spent so much time focused on the weather intended to occur on a Friday meeting with Dr H, that I failed to note that the actual meeting date was on Wednesday, not Friday.
On each expedition, the conditions changed from day to day, and hourly within the day. Well known pedestrian tracks became obscured by drifted snow. Regular routes turned into skating rinks. Large lakes unexpectedly blocked forward travel. Some sidewalks were sealed at each end by embankments over four feet high. Close attention to vehicle traffic was needed as the racing cars were sure to slide on the ice if they attempted to brake in the last seconds before striking you. Or they would throw up a bath of black grunge water so that the deluge took me from clean clothes to a barnyard hog wrestler in less than 20 seconds.
The point of this description is that walks undertaken under these conditions required constant active cognition. These walks not only represented a hard physical effort, they also demanded significant cognitive effort. There was no opportunity to “switch off” and relax. Constant attention was required.
In contrast, today out on the Racetrack, I was free to think nothing. I had nowhere to go, no plans, no timetable. I was free to introduce myself to a spider and devote my time to ensuring he made a safe crossing. My hunch is that this capacity to operate in a “switched off mode” is one of the factors that that makes walks beneficial. A recent research paper confirms the fact that walks in the woods result in observable changes in brain structure and function.
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This post links to a New York Times article which reviews the research described above.