A friend reminded me the other day of the value of walks. A composer, he'd been blocked on a new work until he took a walk, giving his mind time to puzzle over the answer. He returned home inspired and got to work on the piece.
I don't walk anywhere near as often as I used to. After sweating it out on a run, the last thing I feel like doing is re-entering the humid swamp that is the South. I've put in my time and I lock myself in my air-conditioned castle for the rest of the day, thank you very much.
But I think I'm doing myself a disservice. Walking allows time for mulling things over... making connections... daydreaming. Running is work. Fun work that I enjoy, but work. I'm thinking about pace and form and--oh yeah--remembering to breathe. Do marketing strategies and my next book project ever cross my mind? Not so much.
So I'm going to start walking more, hot weather be damned. A little sweat seems a small price to pay for artistic inspiration. In fact, Blair and I just returned from a walk and I came in, sat down, and wrote this blog post.
See? It's working already.