Quite a while ago, prodded by my wife, my doctor and my personal trainer, I took to daily walks. I am not especially fond of it but everybody says that it is good for you.
It is supposed to make you lose weight (not true), increase your testosterone level (I am not sure), relieve stress (yeah), help you to sleep and make you a better cook.
It is also a good excuse to slip away from your better half, and for me, to quietly mull over some article (like this one) or a blockbuster movie script.
As you well know, there are many different styles of walking.
There is the athletic walk. Energetic and a bit masochistic. These people like to suffer. To amplify their suffering (pleasure?) they will often carry weights on their arms and ankles, and probably on some other parts of their body that I don’t dare to mention.
There is endurance walking. These people will walk until they drop. They will also brag about it and probably drop dead some day from the excessive exertion.
Then there is the congenial walk, especially favored by women. They like to get together and while exercising talk about what men prefer to keep private. They probe deep in each other soul and find solace in each other’s misery. They have no shame.
Me, I walk to keep mentally and physically sound, but also to keep in touch with my neighborhood’s tail-wagging friends. They are in the habit of leaving coded messages on lampposts and shrubs and I have tried to do the same, but I had to stop doing this after some uncomprehending neighbors complained to the block warden.
Walking is popular because it is cheap (you don’t need special equipment to do this) and because shoes are cheaper than tires.
When I walk, I also like to carry a pocket camera. In my upscale neighborhood you never know when a TV reality star will pop up and do something gross.
I want to be able to catch it and post it on YouTube.
But with the proliferation of iApps, walking might disappear some day and be replaced by something virtual.
I keep on walking because I want to be able to tell small children that there was a time in America when men were men, and not soda gulping, video games addicts wusses.
Alain