“Go for a walk.”
It’s probably one of the simplest pieces of health advice there is.
And for many people, it makes perfect sense. Walking is free, doesn’t require a gym membership and can be a lovely way to spend some time outside.
But knowing that walking might be good for you and actually being able to do it are two very different things.
Sometimes the obstacle is time or motivation. Sometimes it’s exhaustion, pain or a health condition that makes even a short walk difficult.
And sometimes life has simply become so full of other demands that something you once enjoyed has gradually disappeared from it.
I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.
Walking has always been part of my life
If you follow me on Instagram, you’ll know that I spend a fair amount of time walking in the New Forest.
It’s something I genuinely enjoy. I love being outside, noticing what’s changing with the seasons and getting away from screens and the constant stream of things demanding my attention.
Sometimes I walk with music. Sometimes I want quiet. Sometimes I walk purposefully, and at other times I’m quite happy to wander.
But there have also been periods of my life when going for a walk hasn’t felt easy at all.
When I was burnt out or depressed, I knew getting outside might do me some good. That knowledge didn’t magically produce the energy or motivation to do it.
And I think that’s something we often miss when we talk about looking after ourselves.
Knowing what might help doesn’t necessarily make it possible.
It’s not always as simple as putting on your shoes
There’s no shortage of advice about the things we should be doing for our health.
Eat well. Get enough sleep. Move regularly. Spend time outside. Make time for yourself.
Most of us have heard it all before.
But that advice has to fit into an actual life.
You might be looking after children, an unwell partner or ageing parents. Work might take most of your available energy. Perhaps you’re dealing with health problems yourself, or your circumstances have changed in ways you never expected.
And somewhere along the way, things you used to enjoy can slip further and further down the list.
Even when you find a spare half-hour, you may be too tired to do anything with it.
For someone living with chronic illness, there can be additional complications. Pain, dizziness, fatigue, mobility difficulties or post-exertional malaise can make walking difficult or unsuitable, even when the desire is there.
So I don’t think it’s helpful to assume that everyone can start with ten minutes and gradually build up. For some people, that isn’t realistic or safe.
Sometimes the issue isn’t finding enough motivation. It’s recognising what your circumstances actually allow.
Why I keep coming back to walking
For me, walking is about much more than exercise.
There can be something uplifting about walking to music. I notice how different I feel when I stop staring at the ground and start looking at what’s around me.
I enjoy seeing the first signs of spring, watching the trees change colour in autumn and spotting things I missed the last time I walked the same route.
I’m fortunate to have the New Forest nearby, but enjoying the outdoors doesn’t have to involve a forest or a long walk.
It might be a local park, a favourite bench, a garden, the seafront or simply somewhere you can sit and watch the world go by.
And if getting outside isn’t possible, there may be other ways to enjoy some of the things you love about it.
What matters to me is that walking doesn’t feel like another health task I’m supposed to complete.
It’s something I look forward to.
That’s a very different reason for doing it.
When something enjoyable becomes another thing to get right
It’s easy to turn even a pleasant activity into a project.
How many steps have I done? How far did I walk? Was it fast enough? Should I be doing more?
There’s nothing inherently wrong with tracking activity or setting goals. Some people find those things useful.
But I think it’s worth asking what happens when the numbers start to matter more than the enjoyment.
If you’ve had a difficult week, does a shorter walk still count? Can you simply enjoy being outside without needing to improve your fitness? And if you’re not well enough to walk at all, can you let that be the reality of the day without turning it into another disappointment?
For people living with complex illness, activity may also need careful management. More isn’t automatically better, particularly if exertion causes symptoms to worsen afterwards.
I wouldn’t want something intended to improve your quality of life to become another source of pressure.
Making room for what matters
One thing I’ve come to appreciate is how easily life can become organised around responsibilities, appointments, treatments and everything else that needs doing.
When you’re managing illness, or supporting someone who is, there may be very little time or energy left for anything that doesn’t feel essential.
And often, the things that disappear first are the things you do simply because you enjoy them.
For me, walking is one of those things.
For someone else, it might be gardening, meeting a friend, reading, making something, listening to music or spending time in a favourite place.
It doesn’t have to be productive. It doesn’t have to improve your health. And it certainly doesn’t have to become another routine to follow.
Sometimes it’s enough that it makes an ordinary day a little more enjoyable.
Of course, finding room for those things isn’t always straightforward. Illness and caring responsibilities can place very real limits on what’s possible.
But I think it’s still worth asking whether there’s something you’ve been missing, and whether there’s a way to bring a little of it back into your life.
It might look different from how it used to. It might need adapting. Or it might be something very small.
That doesn’t necessarily make it less worthwhile.
More than a walk
I don’t want everyone to become a walker.
What interests me is the gap between the life we’re trying to manage and the things we’d actually like to be doing with it.
Sometimes that gap is created by illness itself. Sometimes it’s the extra work of managing illness. And sometimes it’s a mixture of changed circumstances, expectations and responsibilities that have built up over time.
Walking happens to be one of the things that helps me feel connected to the life I enjoy.
And that’s why I keep coming back to it.
Not because it’s a cure, a fitness target or another healthy habit to tick off.
Simply because I love it.
Perhaps that’s a good enough reason.
Jo 💚
A note from Jo
Living alongside complex chronic illness in my own family taught me how much of everyday life can disappear into researching, organising, deciding and trying to make things better.
These days, I help people talk through what’s going on, consider what really deserves their time and energy, and explore ways to make life a little more manageable.
Sometimes that includes finding a small way to reconnect with something they’ve been missing.
If you’d find it helpful to talk through your own situation, you can find out more about my one-to-one sessions.