In Praise of Walking: The new science of how we walk and why it’s good for us

Wow. This was exactly the kind of deep dive I was looking for. As an avid walker, I always knew it made me feel better, but O’Mara provides the actual 'why' behind that feeling. The explanation of the brain as an internal GPS that constantly recalibrates our position to keep us balanced was absolutely mind-blowing. I loved how the book connected our evolutionary past—starting with those first bipedal ancestors—to our current mental well-being. It’s not just a health book; it’s a celebration of what makes us human. Despite what some other reviewers said, I found the technical details about brain plasticity and mood regulation to be the best part. It’s empowering to know that something as simple as a brisk walk can have such profound effects on our intelligence and longevity.

Finally, a book that gives walking the credit it deserves! O’Mara’s research into the link between movement and mental health is nothing short of brilliant. I was captivated by the idea of 'peripatetic' thinking—how the rhythm of our feet actually facilitates the rhythm of our thoughts. The book is a beautiful blend of neuroscience, history, and social commentary. It makes you want to lace up your shoes and go for a long stroll through the nearest park immediately. While it does dive deep into the biology, I found it accessible enough to follow, and the insights into how walking fosters social connection were particularly moving. This should be mandatory reading for urban planners and anyone interested in living a more vibrant, connected life. It’s truly a life-affirming read.

Ever wonder why you get your best ideas while pacing around the room? O’Mara does a fantastic job of explaining the cognitive mechanics behind that 'aha!' moment. As someone who struggles with a sedentary office job, I found the evidence linking physical movement to increased creativity and brain health to be incredibly convicting. The book goes deep into how walking acts as a natural antidepressant and helps prevent the mental decline associated with aging. While it does get a bit 'wordy' in the middle sections regarding brain anatomy, the overall message is powerful. It’s scientific proof that our bodies and minds were built to move in tandem. It’s certainly changed the way I view my daily commute—now I see it as a brain-boosting session rather than a chore.

Picked this up during a bit of a reading slump and found it surprisingly engaging. The author’s perspective on how bipedalism literally shaped the human brain is fascinating. He explains how our ability to walk upright freed our hands and changed our social structures in ways I’d never considered. I especially enjoyed the discussion on 'path integration' and how our brains navigate complex environments without even needing a map. My only real gripe is that it can be a bit rambling in places, and some of the data points feel like they’re being repeated just to fill space. Still, for anyone interested in the intersection of biology and daily habit, this is a very worthwhile read. It makes a compelling case for reclaiming our cities from motorized traffic.

Frankly, I needed the scientific kick in the pants this book provided. We all know walking is 'good,' but understanding the neurochemistry behind why it works—the dopamine, the hippocampal growth, the structural changes—makes it much easier to stay motivated. O’Mara writes with a clear passion for the subject, even if he occasionally gets lost in the weeds of experimental data. I particularly liked the updated foreword about how COVID-19 impacted our social walking habits and what that loss of 'inadvertent touch' did to our collective psyche. It’s a smart, well-researched book that bridges the gap between hard science and lifestyle advice. It’s not a light read, but it’s an important one for anyone living in our increasingly sedentary modern world.

The sea squirt analogy is something that will stick with me forever—the idea that if you stop moving, your brain becomes redundant is a terrifyingly effective motivator. This book provides some solid scientific evidence for why we feel so much clearer after a stroll, and I appreciated the 'internal GPS' explanation regarding how our brains maintain balance. However, the tone fluctuates wildly between fascinating evolutionary history and incredibly dry descriptions of neural pathways that feel like they belong in a medical journal. It’s a bit of a mixed bag; some chapters fly by while others are a total grind. I’d recommend it for the insights into creativity and mental health, but be prepared to skim the more technical, receptor-heavy sections if you aren't a scientist.

After hearing so much buzz about this, I finally got around to reading it, and I’m torn. On one hand, the sections on urban planning were quite eye-opening; O’Mara makes a great case for why our cities need to be designed for people rather than just cars. On the other hand, the book feels quite repetitive and lacks a certain 'spark' in the writing. He spends a lot of time on the mechanics of how we walk without really diving into the joy of it as much as I’d hoped. It’s very much a scientist’s view—analytical and detached. It’s a decent read if you want the data to back up your habits, but don’t expect a lyrical or particularly inspiring tribute to the act of walking itself.

Look, I wanted to love this because I’m a dedicated hiker, but it was just so incredibly dense. I expected a 'popular science' book, yet I felt like I was back in a graduate-level neurobiology lecture I didn’t sign up for. O’Mara goes on forever about specific receptors and hippocampal place cells, making it feel like a slog rather than an engaging read. The core message is literally just 'walking is good for you,' which we all know, but the delivery is so rambling and wordy that it loses the plot. To be fair, the research is obviously thorough, but the accessibility is zero for a casual reader. I had to force myself through the final chapters just to say I finished it. It really defeats the purpose of the genre when it’s this much hard work.

Is it possible for a book about movement to feel this stagnant? The writing style is quite repetitive, and I found my mind wandering more than my feet ever did while reading it. While the author is clearly an expert, he lacks the storytelling ability of someone like Bill Bryson or Oliver Sacks. The 'technical' sections about our genetic ancestors and the transition to bipedalism were okay, but they were buried under mountains of dry data. I honestly felt like I was reading a textbook at times. The conclusion is basically 'walk more to feel better,' which is great, but did it really need 200+ pages of academic jargon to get there? If you’re not a science nerd, you might find this one a bit of a chore to get through.

This book left a bitter taste in my mouth, primarily because of how blatantly it ignores the reality of being a woman in a city. While O’Mara waxes poetic about the 'social benefits' of urban strolling and praises sites like Central Park, he completely bypasses the safety concerns that dictate where and when half the population can actually walk. There is a glaring lack of discussion regarding street lighting, harassment, or the simple fear of being followed in those very underpasses he wants to make 'pedestrian friendly.' To claim walking is this universal panacea without acknowledging the structural dangers for women is a massive oversight. It’s a classic example of male-centric science that looks at data points while ignoring lived experiences. I found it incredibly frustrating and ultimately out of touch with modern urban life.