I have a walking desk. I bungee corded a white piece of unused shelving to a used treadmill and still feel mighty proud of myself for that DIY. Before I started writing daily, I walked on it daily. I would crank up a podcast and start moving my feet. My energy was higher and my weight lower. But time trades happen with any hobby, and sitting and writing took the place of walking and thinking.
To write into my 60s, 70s and 80s, I need to take care of myself in my 40s.
I’m much healthier and happier when I exercise, so that should really be my priority. After all, writing is only good for the mind and soul. And what are those compared to the body? My body is a temple. And that sucker is in disrepair.
Early on, I tried walking while doing morning pages, but my pages were crazy messy and the odds were high I would fall off the treadmill mid-sentence. Because I had to stay so focused on my footwork, I would finish feeling stressed, not refreshed. So, I quit walking. Which is L-A-Z-Y.
As I’m writing this, I’m thinking, “Woman, what are you doing?” I can surely walk slowly and talk into a microphone. I can also walk and type on a laptop. I know because I sometimes do it for work. I can even find another time to write. So, yeah, this blog is still happening. Now where are my tennis shoes?