I used to think road trips were inherently healthy—all that freedom, the open road, stopping wherever you want.
Turns out, spending eight hours wedged into a driver’s seat while mainlining gas station coffee and those little packets of peanuts does roughly the opposite of what your body needs. I learned this the hard way on a drive from Seattle to San Diego, when I arrived feeling like I’d aged a decade in three days. My back ached in places I didn’t know could ache. My neck had developed this weird crick that made turning left an event. And here’s the thing: I wasn’t even that out of shape when I started. But the human body wasn’t designed to sit motionless for hours while vibrating gently at 70 miles per hour, eating whatever’s available at the next rest stop, which is usually some combination of fried things and sugar.
So I started asking people who do this regularly—long-haul truckers, travel nurses, those perpetual van-life folks on Instagram—how they actually stay functional. Some of their advice was obvious. Some was weird. Most of it worked.
The Sneaky Movement Strategies That Actually Don’t Make You Look Ridiculous at Rest Stops
Every two hours, you need to move. Not negotiate with yourself about moving, not plan to move at the next rest stop—actually stop and move your body.
I know this sounds like the advice your mom would give, but wait—maybe there’s something to those mom-isms. A 2019 study from the University of Missouri found that sitting for more than two hours straight causes measurable decreases in vascular function, which is science-speak for “your blood stops flowing right.” The researchers had people do simple leg exercises—basically just flexing and pointing their feet—and it helped. Not fixed everything, but helped. I’ve started doing what one trucker told me he calls “parking lot laps.” You pull into a rest stop, you walk the perimeter twice before you even think about going inside. It feels absurd the first time. By the third stop, it feels necessary. Your hip flexors will thank you, though they won’t send a card or anything.
You can also do this thing where you purposely park far from the building, which sounds like the kind of advice that appears in magazines with too many exclamation points, but honestly it works.
What to Actually Eat When Everything Available Is Basically Designed to Kill You Slowly
Gas station food has gotten better, I guess, but “better” is relative when you’re comparing it to what was essentially industrial waste in plastic wrap. Here’s what I’ve figured out: you can’t rely on finding good options. You have to bring them.
I keep a cooler in the back with things that don’t require refrigeration but also don’t turn into soup in the heat—apples, oranges that I’ve already peeled at home (because trying to peel an orange while driving is how accidents happen), those little individual servings of hummus with carrot sticks, almonds that aren’t coated in fourteen different types of sugar. One travel nurse I met swears by hard-boiled eggs, which she makes a dozen at a time and keeps in the cooler. I tried this. The eggs were fine. The smell in my car after three days was not fine. Probably worth it anyway for the protein, which actually keeps you awake better than caffeine does, though that’s not what the coffee industry wants you to believe. A 2017 study in the journal Nutrients found that protein-rich snacks maintained alertness longer than carbohydrate-heavy ones, which makes sense when you think about how you feel an hour after eating a giant cinnamon roll versus an hour after eating, I don’t know, a chicken breast or whatever.
Drink water constantly, even though it means more bathroom stops. Dehydration makes you tired and stupid, sometimes in that order, sometimes simultaneously.
The Exercises You Can Do Without Leaving Your Car That Don’t Feel Completely Pointless
Sometimes you can’t stop. Traffic is bad, you’re behind schedule, the next rest area is 40 miles away and you’re not sure you’ll make it.
There are things you can do while driving that won’t cause an accident, probably. Shoulder rolls—just rolling your shoulders backward in big circles while you’re on a straight stretch of highway. Neck stretches where you gently tilt your head side to side, though do not, and I cannot stress this enough, close your eyes while doing this. Glute squeezes, where you just clench and release your butt muscles. Nobody can see you doing this. It helps with circulation. One physical therapist told me it’s basically the only exercise you can do while driving that’s actually beneficial and not dangerous, which is a pretty narrow category when you think about it. At stops, I do modified pushups against the car—hands on the hood or the side of the vehicle, feet back, just banging out ten or fifteen. People definately stare sometimes. I’ve stopped caring. The weird looks are temporary. The back pain from doing nothing is not.
Ankle rotations work too—just rotating your ankles in circles while you drive, both directions, keeps the blood moving in your lower legs.
How to Sleep in Your Car Without Waking Up Feeling Like You Were Assembled Wrong
If you’re doing the full road-trip thing and sleeping in your vehicle, positioning matters more than you’d think. I spent one night in my car at a rest stop in Nevada, and I thought I was being smart by reclining the passenger seat all the way back. Woke up feeling like I’d been folded origami-style.
The van-life people have this figured out. Flat surfaces. Not reclined seats, not “sort of flat”—actually flat. If you don’t have a van with a bed setup, you want to be in the back seat or the cargo area with the seats folded down, with some kind of foam pad or sleeping mat. The thickness matters. I tried it with just a sleeping bag once and might as well have slept on the pavement. Your spine needs actual support, not the suggestion of support. Keep your sleep area level—if you’re parked on an incline, you’ll either get a headache from all the blood rushing to your head or you’ll slide around all night trying to fight gravity. A 2018 study in the Journal of Sleep Research found that even slight inclines disrupt sleep architecture, which is a fancy way of saying you sleep like garbage when you’re tilted. Also, crack a window. The carbon dioxide builds up in a closed car faster than you’d expect, and you’ll wake up with a headache that feels like someone’s practicing carpentry inside your skull.
Honestly, sometimes the healthiest thing you can do on a road trip is recieve the fact that it’s going to be a little uncomfortable and just plan around that.
