Constantino Diaz-Duran is a fellow at the Center for Social Cohesion at Arizona State University. He is chronicling his walk from New York to Los Angeles to celebrate his eligibility for American citizenship. Follow Constantino’s progress.

I dumped half the contents of my backpack, and I’m speed-walking (well, you know…) my way to Washington, DC. I’ve fallen behind schedule, and I’m trying to make up time.

“Walk” I say to myself. “Don’t take your phone out to take a picture of that tree. Walk. Stop tweeting. You can hold it ’til the next restroom. Just walk.”

I’m suffering from a condition called franticism. And it’s not even recent. I’ve been afflicted by this disorder for years. I was diagnosed earlier this week by Steve, a licensed Coast Guard captain and franticism survivor.

Steve coined the term to describe “the state of being frantic all the time.” Sufferers tend to live in cities or large metropolitan areas, and are usually between the ages of 24 and 60. Steve was 55 when he cured himself by heeding the call of the sea.

Ten years ago, Steve and his wife decided to leave their home in Cincinnati and move into a boat. They now reside on the waters of the Chesapeake Bay.

I was having a quick breakfast at a diner in Havre de Grace, Md., when I met Steve. I was eager to hit the road and get as close to Baltimore as possible, but Steve made me an offer I could not refuse. “Come,” he said. “I’ll talk to my friend about getting you on the next river cruise up the Susquehanna.” The boat ride would take two hours. I hesitated. But Steve would have none of it.

I’m glad I allowed myself the delay. It was a gorgeous day, perfect for a ride on a replica of a traditional Mississippi riverboat. For two whole hours I forgot about DC, my pace, and my backpack. I needed that. But soon enough, my need to get moving struck again.

Later that day, as I walked under a not-too-oppressive sun, I started wondering, will I ever fully de-franticize myself? Do I even want to? I’m not sure.

True, I’m starting to get used to life on the road. True, standing on the deck of a picturesque boat in the middle of a weekday is pleasantly rebellious. And, true, fresh air beats inner city smog. But I don’t think I could ever give up city life permanently. I’m having a good time now, but that is precisely because I’m on the go. I’m loving the countryside, and its chilled-out attitude, but knowing myself, I’d get bored of rivers, blue skies and green mountains if had to see the same river and the same mountain every day of my life – the Empire State Building is at least lit up a different color every night. And I do like getting things done quickly.

What I will say now, though, is that I intend to strike a better balance going forward. I slacked a bit too much through Jersey and PA, and the pace at which I’m walking to DC is not sustainable (I will have to replace all the stuff I threw out). So I’ll keep on moving, but I will take a picture of that tree. And I will go on as many unplanned excursions as come my way. After all, isn’t the whole point of this project to meet people? How am I to have any valuable conversations if I’m just walking past everyone I see?

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*Photo by Constantino Diaz-Duran.