“You do not realize how the headlines that make daily history affect the muscles of the human body.” — Martha Graham

By PJ Parrish

So, how you feeling today? Not so good? Stomach in knots? Head hurt for no good reason? Can’t sleep? Maybe you need to stop doom-scrolling on Facebook. Maybe you need to turn off cable TV.

Or maybe you just need a good walk in the woods.

I and others here have written often about how getting off your keister and going out in the fresh air is good for your well-being. And, more to the point for us crime dogs, how it helps you get the writing muscles going. So when I was paging through the New York Times book section Sunday, I was delighted to come upon an essay about just this subject, and I knew I had to share it with you.

The author, Dwight Garner, writes about the deep connection between reading, writng and physical health. But he admits that writers who work out are just not his kind of people. (“I run only when chased,” he admits). Writing is a sedentary job, he notes, and goes on to quote Harold Pinter that “intellectual arses wobble best.”

He seems a bit awestruck, though, by those authors who are exercise nuts. Dan (Da Vinci Code) Brown has his computer programmed to freeze for 60 seconds every hour so he can stop and do push-ups and sit-ups. Jim Harrison told the Paris Review that “I dance for a half-hour a day to Mexican reggae music with 15-pound dumbbells. I guess it’s aerobic and the weights keep your arms and chest in shape.” Now that I know this about Harrison, his books make a lot more sense to me.

There’s one basic problem with exercise, Garner asserts — it’s boring.

So you have to find ways to fool yourself into thinking it’s not. Boris Johnson, the ex-PM of Britain, claims that the only way he can do his daily run is if he recites poetry, specifically The Iliad, out loud in various voices. I’ll leave it to you to fill in the audio-visual there. Here’s a little help:

I used to listen to my iPod during my daily walks, singing as I went. But lately, during my 4-mile turns around the lake in the woods, I’ve taken to holding conversations with myself in French. I don’t know what’s more startling to my fellow path-mates. Hearing me belt out Bohemian Rhapsody or practicing “Un ver vert est dans un verre vert.” (a green worm is in a green glass).

I’m still up in New Jersey on family business and I am not getting outside much. And the only thing my brother-in-law seems to get on his TV is Say Yes To The Dress. So I am reading for hours a day. Reading is a lot like exercise. If you don’t do it regularly, you can lose the urge. Right now, I am working my way slowly through The Soul of America: The Battle For Our Better Angels by Pullitzer Prize winner John Meacham. It is an elegant, troubling, and ultimate inspiring recounting of America’s dark history. “In our finest hours,” he writes, the soul of the country manifests itself in an inclination to open our arms rather than to clench our fists.”

This is my balm until I can get moving again. As Don DeLillo said once, “I work in the morning at a manual typewriter. I do about four hours then I go running. This helps me shake off one world and enter another.”

I’m thinking of taking up yoga again. My physical therapist thinks this is a grand idea for my poor back. I dunno. I used to be quite the yoga-doer, could even do a proper head-stand and a serviceable crow pose. But I was never able to get that quiet-the-brain thing down pat. The world was always too much with me.

As the English novelist Angela Carter wrote, “Yoga improves one posture but not one’s tranquility.”

So that’s my new plan. Turn off the TV, return to yoga. Keep going for long walks, leaving early and taking the dog. Thanks for listening today. On this quiet muggy Sunday here in New Jersey, writing even just a silly blog post makes me feel better. May you find your own serenity in our roiling sea.