The Romans knew it. Diogenes proved it by pacing around the agora when someone told him movement was impossible. St Augustine wrote it down. Every person who has ever laced up their boots and headed out because something needed thinking through has lived it without needing a Latin phrase to describe it.
Some problems only give way when you put them underfoot. The ones that resist sitting and thinking, that loop back on themselves when you try to reason them out in a chair. A long walk on familiar ground. A ridge you have not been on before. It does not matter particularly. What matters is the movement and the ground beneath it.
What walking does
Most people already know it. They have felt it on a long day out, or noticed the difference between a week without hills and a week with them. The science is catching up to what walkers have just known.
Miles Richardson, Professor of Human Factors and Nature Connectedness at the University of Derby, has spent years studying what happens to people when they engage with the natural world. His research, which Alpkit has supported through the Foundation, is clear: connecting with nature through movement is one of the most effective things a person can do for their mental and physical wellbeing. Joy and calm. Better immunity. Less social isolation.
The mechanism is partly physical. Walking at a steady pace in open ground shifts the nervous system in ways that sitting cannot. The repetitive bilateral movement, the changing visual field, the reduction in resting cortisol, this is what is happening inside your body while you walk.
But there is something else, harder to measure: the quality of thought that happens when you are moving. Emily Ackner walked 320 kilometres of the Camino Primitivo, the oldest of the Camino routes, and described the whole thing as a constantly moving oasis of calm, self-reflection and connection. Not the destination. Not even the achievement. The moving. The ground polished smooth by centuries of pilgrim footsteps, each person arriving with a problem to put underfoot. People have been walking the Camino to solve things since the Middle Ages. The Latin phrase only puts a name to something they already knew.
Worth fighting for
In April 1932, around 400 people walked onto Kinder Scout. They were trespassing. The moor was private land, the keepers were hostile, and six of the walkers were arrested and jailed. They walked anyway, because they believed that access to the hills was worth fighting for.
That walk helped build the argument that eventually became the right to roam. Seventy years of campaigning later, the Countryside and Rights of Way Act opened the fells, moors and mountains of England and Wales to everyone. People knew. They knew what walking did for them, and they decided it mattered enough to be jailed for. Every year we mark the anniversary in Hayfield because it is not a closed question. Access, for all kinds of people to all kinds of places, is still being argued over and won.
It opens things up
It is not only about what walking does to the individual. It is what it does to the conversation between people.
Three dads who lost their daughters to suicide chose walking as the thing to do with their grief. Not because it was dramatic, but because of what walking does to a conversation. Walking alongside someone, looking at the landscape rather than at each other, opens things up. You can say things on a hill that you cannot say across a table. They knew this, and they built something out of it.
Simple Therapy, a wellbeing collective based in London, takes people who are struggling out of the city and onto trails. Their observation from a 4.5-hour group hike in West Sussex was straightforward: age stopped mattering, real-time connection happened naturally, people who had never met each other came home as a community. The outdoors created the conditions. The walking did the work.
This is not unusual. We see it everywhere we look.
