Walkers

On the way in this morning, I pulled up at some traffic lights in Kensington and there was a middle-aged man, decked in white tracksuit bottoms and a pink top. He was stretching his limbs like a rugby player would who is about to come on. When the lights turned green, he wandered slowly across the road and down the street. I was hoping he would break into a trot at some point, but he just kept ambling. I wonder why he was warming up so vigorously. Maybe he tired himself out doing it.

I have noticed recently that there are a lot of walkers on the streets of England. Now nothing wrong with a good stroll, I have to admit I often wander through the forests near where I live on a Sunday morning (that is, I walk on Sunday mornings, I don't live near a forest on a Sunday morning). But I have seen loads of women walking in the evenings when I am on my way home. Nothing unusual in this I hear you scream. I agree, but there is a new breed out there and it needs to be stopped. The women I have noticed are dolled up with Olivia Newton-John headbands, athlete's vests, tight lycra shorts and trainers, clasping a small bottle of Evian. They look like they are about to set off on a marathon, but they just walk. I really want to stop and question these women. I want to advise them that if they jogged for a tenth of the distance they walked, they would lose more weight. It's like at the gym, you queue up for 20 minutes for a treadmill, and the person in front of you gets on, and walks at a leisurely pace for 10 minutes. Someone explain this to me.

Joggers make me chuckle as well. Good on them, raising a sweat, keeping fit, giving me something to look at whilst I prowl the streets in my 2 litre CRV. What makes me laugh is when they are at a red light waiting to cross, and they jog on the spot. What's all that about? Again, I would like to pull over and mention to them that the tarmac beneath their feet isn't actually moving, so there really is no need to keep the legs going.

Just a jealous rant from a fat bloke.