Walking to work

As I crossed the road and took the few steps down into the park which runs along the Porter Valley in Sheffield it seemed just an ordinary working day, and like on so many others, my walk was the first thing I did after breakfast and before starting work in earnest.

I didn’t know that morning that this day would actually be extra-ordinary, for later that evening my first grandchild was born. Here though, I want to reflect from my daily commute in the hope that it may encourage others of the many benefits of a walk to work.

The idea to take a walking commute to work began early on in the pandemic when I wanted to find a way to bring structure to the working day and create a clear division between home and work (when the latter was just a move into the back bedroom). The beautiful Porter Valley runs opposite my home and just minutes from my door I’ve spotted Dippers nesting and Kingfishers fishing, making for a beautiful stretch of river and woodland in the heart of the city. Important to me has been taking the same route at approximately the same time and in the same way each day that I work from home. I deliberately leave my phone at home and just walk, along with my husband, a circular route a mile or so from door to door.

As I walk into the park there is a sense of the regularity and rhythm to the day that walking a familiar route brings. There is something almost comforting about crossing the little bridge over the stream and passing some of the same people and wondering about others: the students off to the local comprehensive school, the older man who always walks alone, the couple who feed the Moorhens from their outstretched hands. Walking engages the senses as you become attuned to the environment, noticing things that seem different, the play of sunlight on the beautiful June morning, the stream quieter than usual with a lack of rainfall in previous days, the stillness of the early morning. 

Moving past the two big mill ponds on my route (this was a valley used extensively in the small-scale steel industry in the 18th Century), I am always drawn to the bird life which is abundant. I often find myself wondering as I walk, bringing questions to mind that reflect, I suppose, something of the curiosity which I hope my primary science students might cultivate for themselves. Why do the Mandarin ducks prefer to sit on the lower tree branches? Where do the Kingfishers that are resident in the Winter go to breed come the Spring? Why are there sometimes lots of Black Headed gulls and often none? Walking and wondering helps me to step away from the worries which are sometimes present as I leave home and somehow can re-set the day. O’Neill and Roberts (2020) comment on walking clearing the head and helping to bring new thoughts as we walk with or without a clear endpoint.

Walking together, in my case with my husband, offers a space to talk without the distractions of home, the laptop or phone. The rhythm of walking seems to enable a natural conversation, at times mulling over something that might have troubled one of us or making plans for something ahead. Equally, there is space to listen and to be quiet together, allowing thoughts to simply come and go. 

Towards the end of the walk the path climbs up into the woods where if lucky one of the resident woodpeckers might be drumming, and then we head out onto the pavement, skirting the park as we make our way home again. This seems a good time to reflect as my thoughts turn toward to the day ahead and the work before me. It gives me time to think through the tricky conversation I might need to have, to work out the immediate priorities for the day, to begin to plan in my head the seminar for later in the week. 

Turning the corner and heading home I feel that I have walked into the working day. The process of walking has, as O’Neill and Roberts (2020) note, of walking, comforted, refreshed and re-set my thinking and is a practice I’ll definitely continue and recommend to others too. 

Written by Sarah

O’Neill, M and Roberts, B (2020) Walking Methods Research on the Move. Oxon:  Routledge