Walking

For the first time in three years, the daily Manhattan summer commute walk is back. And it’s hitting me really well in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

I’ve missed the smell of the city in the summer. Wow, the aromas. Cedar pine from a boarded up building. Oh wow, that bank moved across the street. A whiff of flowers from a nearby balcony garden. I wonder if they have beehives? Something delicious from the makeshift outdoor restaurant areas that are still out on the street. Bummer, I’m not hungry yet. Whoops, I just came across some boiling garbage piled up on the sidewalk. Only in New York.

Oh man, I just walked past someone down on their luck. Really down. In the worst situation of their life. I can see the desperation, or worse, resignation in their eyes. I remember that this city is life on the hardest difficulty setting. We’re not all going to make it. But that motivates the hustle. The confident, or at least hopeful strut, that for the rest of us, today is the day it all turns around.

The pace is a step slower during the summer. Everyone’s mood is a bit more chill. There are fewer collisions, fewer “hey, I’m walkin’ here” moments, even fewer car horns. Or maybe I’m projecting, because I’m in such a good mood, because I love being among the walkers.

There’s no walker like a New York City walker. The subtle leans and tells, the impossible geometric optimization challenge of navigating through seas of ourselves. The nonstop kinetic wizardry on display, as our flow dissipates and recombines around bikes, cars, construction projects, and every inanimate object imaginable. The absurdly confident jaywalking. Or the even more impressive blind spot check before changing lanes while walking, a technique that I’ve never observed anywhere else.

There’s no better way to start your day. The legs are moving, the blood is pumping, the brain is observing. And it all feels right again. Maybe the world doesn’t feel right, and maybe it never will. But for now, at least the city does. And that’s what I need today.

Welcome back, Ronjan, to the best walk there is.