To escape Election Day lunacy, head outdoors

My dad recently texted me a famous cartoon by David Sipress that reads, "My desire to be well-informed is currently at odds with my desire to remain sane." This perfectly describes my October. Like many Alaskans during the month leading up to the election, I vacillate wildly between feeding my rage from the blue glow of a laptop or TV, and doing anything I can to escape.

This column is about escape.

Isn’t that irresponsible?

There was an interesting article published in Salon last month about "election stress disorder." The article cited the prolonged election cycle in the U.S., "sensationalized media stories, social media vitriol and an unceasing barrage of bite-sized news clips" that can contribute to increased anxiety leading up to Election Day.

[Suffering from election stress disorder?]

This seems true. The amount of information available on a 24-hour news cycle, amplified by the round-the-clock echo chamber of social media, is relentless. Already, the stress and inactivity that characterize many of my workdays are known to have long-term health impacts. Could paying too much attention to the campaign actually impact my health too?

Maybe this seems like "aw, mom" advice, but countless studies show that physical activity is key to alleviating stress. According to the Mayo Clinic, exercising pumps up endorphins, helping you "remain calm and clear in everything you do" while improving your mood. (mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/stress-management/in-depth/exercise-and-stress/art-20044469)

That all sounds great.

But is escaping election coverage irresponsible? No. It's how I am going to live with myself when the election is over. Which my calendar tells me it will be, eventually.

Picking your escape

As someone who watches the Kardashians, drinks too much wine during the workweek and follows college kid meme accounts on Instagram, I'm not here to get high and mighty about my forms of escape. But I'm going to pitch exercise as what works best for me. Instead of feeling vaguely disgusted with myself for knowing anything at all about Rob and Chyna, I actually feel better after going outside.

The key is to pick an escape completely apart from how I take in most information. I am so tired of my smart phone some days that I get a lump in my throat as I check it. But I still check it because I'm addicted to the constant reinforcement.

In an attempt to escape the cycle, I try to look for something other than my phone or a screen. Don't get me wrong: I'm not holier than thou; I still find myself watching TV or mindlessly scanning pretty photos and memes. But these don't offer real escape.

Doing something — anything

Here's how it typically goes: I start at the trailhead, keyed up about whatever. I walk for a while, taking in muted fall colors while the scenes change. If I'm gaining elevation, perhaps I gain perspective on Anchorage as the tiny buildings glittering below shrink. My heart pounds, I sweat. I already feel like I've accomplished something. Eventually, I turn around. When I arrive back where I started at the trailhead, the light and the temperature have changed. I've changed too. I actually feel good, proud that I took a step away from the news and did something for myself.

I feel better even writing that paragraph about being outside.

None of that will change the outcome of the election. It doesn't make me less informed, either. I'll catch up later. But it makes my shoulders feel less tense. I sleep more soundly. My stomach doesn't hurt. Perhaps I'm nicer to my husband.

These days, fresh air on my face is way better than the hot exhaust from my laptop making my thigh red after hours of anger-clicking through the Internet.

I'm still able to stay informed. If I miss something in the hour or five I'm checked out, it'll be waiting for me when I inevitably check my phone. The difference is, when I'm able to refocus my attention on simply being in my body in an environment that is more natural than my couch, I walk away feeling better.

We all deserve to feel better, in general and especially right now. Grab a hat and grab a friend if you prefer company. Go take a walk. You won't regret it.

Alli Harvey lives, works and plays in Anchorage.