The other day I was left pulling my hair out with frustration, howling for mercy and banging my fists on the pavement.
s state of mind?
A Rubik’s cube? The Times advanced crossword? The new series of Snog, Marry or Avoid? Wayne Rooney’s debut as England captain?
No. I was simply trying to walk in a straight line through Worksop town centre.
Try it some time. It’s nigh on impossible because no one else does.
It’s a strange phenomenon but many people in this town walk like crabs on a beach.
Maybe we aren’t descended from apes around here but from crustaceans.
Sideways. Diagonally. Occasionally backwards. Anything to avoid a straight line.
We’d be in all kinds of trouble walking a white line at a police station.
It’s even worse on market days when people scoot from side to side like lab rats in a science experiment.
If you sped it up on one of those time lapse cameras it would look ridiculous.
I read recently that walking is one of the best forms of exercise.
If true, the people of Worksop would be as fit as Mo Farah or a Tour de France peloton (which doesn’t seem likely) as they walk ten times as far as the crow flies.
The article suggested 10,000 steps every day. Which seems a lot to me and works out at six miles.
Personally I love a stroll when there’s no other people around, and its certainly preferable to one of those ridiculous exercise classes they hold at gyms.
But walking that far every single day seems excessive.
You wouldn’t have time with the 20-odd pieces of fruit and veg you have to force feed yourself to stay fit and healthy every 24 hours.