To what many consider the simplest form of exercise,

I applaud you. You always give us a place to go, even when that place is no place at all. You carry our feet from point A to point B when our minds are caught somewhere else. You ask for nothing in return, just for us to keep going. And somehow we always do.

Let's go for a walk. Yesterday we ran. Tomorrow we will run again. Today, we walk.

With shoes or without. Up hills, down valleys, in parks, on sidewalks, alongside rivers. We will slip on our socks, lace up our shoes, pull on our jackets and begin.

We will breathe in air filled with sunshine or silence or fog or rain or heat. The air affects our walk, but we still walk. When we run, we grow tired, so today we walk.

Somedays we walk with company. We recount the past, dabble in the present, speculate the future. We reprimand ourselves for sharing gossip, comment on the weather, beam at accomplishments, revel in sadness while resolving to improve, playfully nudge our companions and notice those who pass us by. Some on wheels, some on seats, some on their feet. Some run, some walk.

To sit with companions never seems to be the same. As the blood surges through our walking flesh, we think of what we always forget to say. We stare straight ahead, with our ears open, and let our hearts do the talking.

Confess, hear confessions. Laugh, cause laughter. We cannot leave each other until the walk is over.

Running doesn't accomplish this. Sitting doesn't accomplish this. Walking does.

Somedays we walk alone. We walk the hills and valleys and parks and sidewalks and rivers with our bodies and take our minds with us. Sometimes we clear our minds, sometimes we complicate them. Most times we heal them.

To sit is to dwell, to run is to forget, but to walk is to ponder. To contemplate. To reevaluate.

Maybe we swing our arms and stomp, perhaps we shuffle along with our hands in our pockets. Music in our ears, birds in our ears, wind in our ears. Long gaits, short hops. One foot in front of the other in front of the other in front of the other. A cycle of straight lines.

Whether we end up where we started or find ourselves someplace new, you always get us there. Steadily, surely, we use our bodies to travel. We rest and then continue. Physically simple, spiritually complex.

Thank you for slowing us down, sorting us out, shaking it off. Tomorrow we run. Today we simply walk.

With a full heart and clear head,

the walkers