There are probably several magical ingredients in the soup of humanity that make us who we are; like big brains, opposable thumbs and a tendency to cooperate. And among these, we can definitely list our gait too.

The way we humans walk is unique in the natural world. Moving around on two legs freed up those opposable thumbs for other purposes, allowed us to throw things, carry things and use tools. It placed our heads higher up, allowing us to see further. It was an extremely successful adaptation that opened up an ocean of possibilities.

But, let’s be honest, it’s also an absolutely ridiculous way to stand. No engineer with a sane mind would even dream of designing something like this. Tall, lanky figures balancing on two small platforms. We are so used to seeing ourselves that we don’t realize how unlikely this configuration is. And it’s that much more magical that it works as perfectly as it does. The human gait definitely deserves an ode.

Learning to walk

Walking is a super basic skill for most animals. They are usually at it within minutes to days after being born or hatching. Not so us, humans. It takes about a year for a baby to crack the code and by then they are still very very far from running, jumping and standing on one leg. It takes several years for a child to master all the facets of human locomotion.

Working up to walking is a long process that starts way before the baby is ready to stand up. All the stages before that, from rolling, through lying on the belly propped up on bent arms, reaching, crawling and squatting, are important precursors to walking. They prepare the brain for the ultimate feat of using two feet to move around. They hone the basic movement patterns on which more complex movement is built, so that they become ingrained in our brains and bodies as automatic reactions. We learn about contra-lateral movement, about gravity, about stabilizing our core. We train the brain and we train the muscles.

Every cat walks the same, every humans walks their own way

The path to walking is ready in our brains from the moment we are born. Just like all animals, we have the reflexes and the instincts; walking is in our DNA and our bodies know how to get there. But unlike most animals, it’s a much more complicated process for humans that requires much more trial and error, testing, play and practice. There is really no need to teach a baby to walk, their biology will get them there. All they need is the right environmental inputs; which consist of a surface to move around on and people to interact with (and as little time spent in “containers” as possible).

Because gait is so much more complex for people than it is for animals, it can’t be instinctual to the same level. While a cat or a giraffe will learn to walk in record time, simply following their instincts, we need to learn. The instincts are guiding us, showing us when we are on the right path, but we still have to walk it ourselves. And that’s why – unlike cats that all walk alike – we don’t.

When I was about 11, I started getting near-sighted. It took a while before anyone realized I wasn’t seeing as well as I should, so I spent about a year looking at a blurry world. It was a bit tricky recognizing people from a distance. I just couldn’t make out their faces. But one thing I could see from far away was the way they were walking, and I learned to tell all my family and friends apart by their gait. By their pace, the rhythm, the bounce, how their heels would strike the ground and how they would lift off, how their knees moved. I didn’t learn it consciously, it just happened. And I never really stopped noticing.

People walk in such a huge variety of ways. The differences arise from learning under different circumstances, having slightly different bodies and different role models. They can be a result of injuries, small and big. It’s fascinating how gait is something that adapts to the environment, but also how we subconsciously copy the people around us.

Walking is magic

I mentioned earlier that no sane engineer would have designed us this way, but that doesn’t mean we are designed badly. It’s just that we are designed based on principles that aren’t commonplace in engineering. We are designed for mobility above else. We aren’t a tower, we are more like a pendulum – always in motion, moving closer and further to equilibrium. But a pendulum is not the perfect metaphor either. It captures the balancing and the constant oscillations about the equilibrium point, but a pendulum is a slave to gravity, which we are very much not. We play with gravity.

Did you know that you spend about 80% of your walking time standing on one foot? 80%! It’s a lot, isn’t it? That’s why balancing is such a crucial skill, you literally need it to walk. Do you think your center of gravity moves from left to right when walking, in order to be right above the standing foot? It is tempting to think so. That would be the most stable position. But it doesn’t. (Or at least, shouldn’t.) It moves side to side slightly, but not nearly as far as being above the standing foot during the stride. Just think about how people walk; their hips and torso are not traveling side to side much at all. Yet, we don’t keel over. That is because we have muscles that are holding us up, tensing in just the right places to make up for the pull of gravity.

We are not towers, and we are not pendulums. We are dynamic, living tensegrity structures.

Tensegrity (tensional integrity) is a term from architecture that describes structures built from two types of elements: hard rods that aren’t directly connected to each other, and ropes that are holding them together. It’s easier to understand from a picture.

A kids’ tensegrity toy. You know, start them early.

The hard rods are not compressible, while the ropes or rubber bands are providing tension that keeps them up, standing even when they look like they shouldn’t. I always felt like they looked a little organic, a little magical, a little ethereal. And that is what we are too. A bunch of hard rods (bones) connected with rubber bands (tendons, ligaments, fascia and muscles).

It is a beautiful system that gives us incredible mobility and balance, while having all the stability we need. That is why our center of gravity doesn’t have to be directly above the base of support (by which I mean the standing foot) when we are mid-step. The muscles on the outside of the thigh work like tensioned ropes and hold everything up against gravity.

There is even more to it. You probably don’t realize it, but you are using your tendons and muscles like springs to store some of the energy of your step, so that they can release it, when it’s their time to push you forward. We do it both when running and when walking, but the human gait is actually ridiculously efficient. We only use about a quarter of the energy that chimpanzees use for walking (whether they walk on two legs or four). We are pretty much made for it.

Be a human – walk

Walking is a full body exercise. To achieve that level of efficiency, to maintain balance and to be able to do it comfortably over a long time, much more of our body is involved than just the legs. The torso and the arms are doing a lot of work stabilizing and compensating for the rotation in the hips.

It shouldn’t be surprising that walking is good for us. It is an input that our bodies evolved with and rely on to maintain themselves. Walking is important for bone density, to help with digestion and blood flow to the whole body, to keep the pelvic floor healthy, the butt strong and the hamstrings functional.

I know everyone always recommends to “just walk”, or “at least walk” and we all think there is no point, because it doesn’t do that much. But it really does.

Walking is a wonderful form of movement; it’s healthy, practical, pleasant and almost always available. If you have the privilege to be able to walk, I encourage you to use it.