Why am I not good at walking?

I’ve recently been having some brisk walks. I’m either out having a brisk walk purely for the purpose of having a brisk walk, or I’m walking briskly while going to the shops or whatever.

A brisk walk, that’s what they say, that’s the word. Brisk. If you want some exercise, but you can’t be fucked jogging or going to a gym, you can always have a walk. But it has to be brisk. Which means a bit faster than normal.

So I’ve been walking quite quickly, to the point that I start to get a bit hot, and angry looking. That quick.

And yet, other people are quicker than me.

The other day, I was walking quite fast, and there was somebody a few metres in front of me, walking. They were faster than me. Yet they were shorter than me. And that’s the thing I don’t get.

I’m 5’ 9’’. They were maybe half a foot shorter. And about the same age as me, I reckon. Middle aged anyway. Yet they were faster than me. And effortlessly faster.

I just don’t get it.

It’s the height thing, mainly. You’d think that taller things can walk faster than shorter things. Longer legs and all that. Aye, the body is bigger and there’s more of a bulk to move, like an elephant, so that comes into it. But it’s not like I’m knackered. It’s not like I’m slow as fuck. Well, I am, actually, that’s the point of what I’m saying. I’m slow and I don’t know how.

How the fuck do you learn how to walk?

It’s like a technique that other people have got. It’s not that they’re fitter or lighter, it’s like they’ve got a better technique that I don’t know about. It’s like old folk swimming.

Have you seen that?

I tried going to a gym for swimming a few years ago, and I hated it. I was doing the breast stroke, pure fucking struggling to keep my head up, struggling to float, struggling to control my breathing while being knackered… and there were these old folk, 70 somethings, overtaking me. Fast as fuck. And yet slow looking. Peaceful. Graceful, like swans. Breast stroke as well, I’m not talking about the front crawl. And that’s because of their technique. They just somehow know how to move the minimum amount for the maximum results.

And that’s what it’s like when I’m out walking, watching these other walkers. They’re not moving faster than me, yet they are. It’s like they’re on a travelator or whatever you call it.

Anyway, forget about that. What do you think about people who choose to not walk on a travelator? The people who walk alongside, even though there’s plenty of room. Where’s their joie de vivre? It’s the same with people who see a revolving door and instead go through the normal door to the side.

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