Two Walks a Day: How My Dogs Taught Me to Step Away from the Screen and Into Real Life
By Miguel Ríos, Stanford Alumnus & Solutions Architect (and proud dog dad) - Jan. 16, 2026
If you’ve followed my posts for a while, you know I spend a lot of time thinking about systems—high-velocity modernization, agentic AI, Power BI dashboards, scalable architectures. It’s rewarding work, but it can pull you into long hours staring at screens, debugging logic, or monitoring real-time metrics. A few years ago, I realized something had to give. That’s when my two dogs stepped in (or rather, tugged on the leash) and showed me a simple ritual that changed everything: two walks a day, no exceptions.
Chino is more than just my dog—he's a living treasure, a final, beautiful gift from my grandmother. She passed away last year, leaving behind no material inheritance, no grand estate or hidden savings. What she did leave was something infinitely more valuable: my best friend, Chino.
In her quiet wisdom, she understood that true wealth isn't measured in things, but in love that endures. Chino arrived in my life through her, and he has stayed ever since—loving me unconditionally, without judgment or expectation. He is both a responsibility and a profound blessing, a daily companion who greets me with joy no matter how heavy the day has been. Every time I look at him, I'm reminded of life's fragility. Chino is a gentle, living memento that our time here is finite, that every moment matters. Yet he also embodies the precious gift we've all been given: the chance to live, to feel, to connect.
I treasure his life deeply because it mirrors the fleeting beauty of our own. Through good times and bad, Chino has been my constant. In moments of celebration, his wagging tail amplified the happiness; in seasons of sorrow—especially after losing my grandmother—his quiet presence brought comfort when words failed. He offers pure compassion and tenderness, the kind that heals without asking for anything in return.Chino isn't just a pet; he's a reminder to stay present, to cherish the simple joys, and to love without holding back—just as my grandmother loved me, and just as she knew I needed to be loved now.
Rain or shine, early morning and late afternoon, we head out. No phone in hand, no earbuds, no quick email check. Just the leash, the fresh air, and whatever adventure (or sniff-fest) awaits them. What started as a necessity for their health quickly became my daily reset button—a built-in excuse to disconnect from the computer and reconnect with the world around me. The benefits hit on multiple levels. Physically, those walks get me moving consistently—studies show dog owners who walk regularly are more likely to meet exercise guidelines, and the routine sticks because the dogs won’t let you skip it. But the real magic is mental and social.
Walking without distractions feels like a moving meditation. I notice the changing seasons, the way the light shifts in the neighborhood, or how my dogs’ tails wag at the same familiar spots. It’s a forced pause from the constant ping of notifications and the mental churn of work problems. Research backs this up: daily dog walks reduce stress, boost mood through endorphins and oxytocin (that “love hormone” that rises when you look into your pet’s eyes), and act as a healthy distraction from negative thought loops. For someone whose job involves complex systems and high-stakes decisions, these 30–45 minutes twice a day are pure mental breathing room.
Even better, the walks have turned my neighborhood into a real community. My dogs are the ultimate icebreakers—people stop to say hello, ask about breeds, share stories, or just smile at their antics. Over time, those quick chats have become genuine friendships: the neighbor who waves every morning, the couple we now coordinate playdates with, the group of dog owners who meet up at the park on weekends. I’ve learned names, heard life updates, and felt a stronger sense of belonging than I ever did scrolling feeds or attending virtual meetings.
Studies echo this: dog walking acts as a catalyst for social connections, with owners reporting stronger community ties and more interactions than non-owners. One older study found people who walked dogs frequently felt a greater sense of community, and more recent surveys show many dog owners make lasting friends through these daily outings. In a world where it’s easy to feel isolated behind screens, a simple walk with a wagging tail opens doors that tech can’t. These two walks aren’t just for my dogs—they’re for me. They remind me that life isn’t all code, dashboards, and deadlines. There’s joy in the ordinary: a pup’s excited zoomies, a neighbor’s laugh, the quiet satisfaction of being present. They’ve taught me that unplugging isn’t laziness; it’s what keeps you sharp and human when you plug back in. If you have a dog (or even if you don’t), I’d love to hear: What’s one small ritual that helps you step away from work and feel more connected? Drop it in the comments—I’m always up for new ideas, and who knows, maybe it’ll inspire the next walk. Here’s to more steps outside, more tail wags, and more real conversations.