50+ Years of Walking: What I've Learned
Rain, hail, or shine – I walk. Eight kilometres, give or take. I’ve been doing this ritual for over 50 years now, and I’m not about to stop.
But let me be clear about something: this isn’t about hitting my step count or burning calories. Walking isn’t my exercise – it’s how I process life.
It Started When My Nana Died
I was eleven when my nana died. She wasn’t just my grandmother – she was mum. The one who raised me while my actual mum worked to support us. When something went wrong, nana was who I ran to.
The morning after she died, I was walking to the bus stop feeling completely lost. The school bus pulled up with all that noise and kids yelling, and something inside me said “don’t get on the bus.” So I didn’t. Some kids yelled out “where are you going?” as I kept walking past the stop, but I couldn’t answer. I was lost in my own head.
That walk to school was 1.2 kilometres and felt like forever back then, — was the first time I felt okay since she died. I got lost in the sunshine, leaves crunching under my feet, and listening to the sounds of nature. It was comforting in a way I couldn’t explain, but it made sense. I’d always been an outdoor kid, chasing chooks around the backyard with my pop, handing pegs to nana while she hung out the washing. Walking felt like being connected to them again.
So, I kept walking. Every day to primary school, then when I got to high school it doubled to 2.5 kilometres each way. At the time, I didn’t know I was processing grief, I just knew that walking helped me feel better.
Here’s what I think was really happening though. I’d been watching nana’s world get smaller for years before she died. That’s what chronic illness can do – steals your independence bit by bit until you can’t do simple things anymore. Back then I was just a kid sitting and talking to her, not understanding what was happening. But somewhere inside, maybe I knew that if I stopped moving, I might end up trapped like that too. Maybe that’s why I still walk! Those images of not being able to move are ingrained in my memories forever.
Why I Walk Alone
Most women want walking buddies. I get it, but that’s not me. My walks are mine. Just me, my thoughts, and whatever’s churning around in my head that day.
Sure, I’ll walk with friends sometimes, but it’s different. Social walking has its place, but solo walking is where the really good happens. I hardly get time alone with myself these days – raising grandkiddos, supporting my aging mother and just doing life in general. But walking gives me that space to think without someone talking at me and to notice what’s around me instead of rushing past it.
I’m lucky – I live in the country. Birds wake me up each morning like they’re celebrating the new day, which reminds me how precious each day actually is. I walk bush trails, climb mountains and am greeted by some animal most days. Beats the heck out of walking aimlessly on a treadmill.
Walking Is Great, But It’s Not Everything
There is so much chatter telling us to walk more. Walk for your heart! Walk for your bones! Walk for everything! And yes, walking is brilliant. But if you want to keep walking into your 70s and 80s, walking alone won’t cut it.
You want to stay upright? You need stability work. You want strong legs? You need to do more than just put one foot in front of the other. Your whole body needs to work together – strong core, mobile joints and muscles. Otherwise your functionality starts declining and you become one of those women who “can’t walk like they used to.”
I’ve watched it happen. The gradual shuffle. The fear of falling. The world getting smaller.
What Actually Keeps You Moving
The research isn’t complicated, and it’s not trendy. Walk because you enjoy it – take those long walks in nature. Sprint in short bursts to maintain your power and speed. Jump or hop to keep your bones strong and your balance sharp. I still sprint with my grandkiddos playing tag because I refuse to be a spent force. Hang off the swing in the backyard for shoulder mobility and grip strength.
Strength train, but forget the fancy stuff. Do exercises that work for daily life – movements that keep you functional for real things.
I know this sounds harsh, but “use it or lose it” isn’t just something people say. I’ve watched too many women lose their independence because they thought walking was enough.
The Confidence Connection
Every time I lace up my shoes, there’s something underneath the habit I can’t fully name. Maybe it’s the memory of watching Nana’s world shrink. Maybe it’s the image of an eleven-year-old walking past the bus stop, discovering that moving her body was the one thing that made the unbearable feel manageable.
What I know now is that physical capability and confidence aren’t separate things. When your body can do what you ask of it — walk eight kilometres, sprint after a grandchild, hang off a swing — you carry yourself differently. You trust yourself differently. That trust doesn’t come from a step count or a fitness tracker. It comes from consistently showing up for your body, and knowing it will show up for you.
The Bottom Line
I walk because it’s helped me through five decades of life throwing curveballs. It’s how I process change, deal with stress, and stay connected to what matters.
But I also do the other stuff – the sprinting, the hanging, the strength work – because I want to keep walking for another 20 years. And I want to keep playing tag with my grandkiddos without being the nanny who can’t keep up.
Move Moment
Next time you’re with grandkiddos or kids in your life, join them for one physical challenge instead of watching. You’ll be amazed at how capable you both feel.
PS. Walking is brilliant — but here's what actually keeps you going.
