Walking is often a way for me to handle hard times by absorbing myself in activity, observation and rumination. Everything from real trials to an ordinary bad day can be smoothed and put in perspective by stretching the legs — and the imagination.

But what if time constraints take that walking time away? That’s what’s been happening recently. And, as is so often the case, the walking time is waning at the very time I need it most.

There’s only one thing to do, and that’s to pound the pavement as if my life depends upon it. Because, in a very real way, it does.