‘ The river glideth at his own sweet will' (Wordsworth)I walk back from town by the riverside route today. In a calm and sedate manner this time.
There are several ways to and from town.
On the way in at one point one has the choice of cutting through a road which slopes downhill before joining the main road again and feels as though it is a shortcut, or carrying straight on and joining the main road at the end.
Just for the sake of argument, I once ‘measured’ these two choices with my pedometer. One day I took the ‘short cut’ setting the counter from the moment I turned into the sloping road, and stopping it at the end of the route next to the dental surgery. 406 steps.
The following day I counted the other route - the ‘longer way’ - counting from where the sloping road turns off, until I arrived again at the dental surgery. 406 steps. Spooky.
I’m sure most days the sum would differ by say 10 to 30 steps depending on where I choose to cross the road, and at what angle etc. But at least I proved to myself that the sloping road is not a shortcut after all.
However, armed with this piece of priceless knowledge, I occasionally play a little game.
Today, shortly before the junction with the sloping road, I am aware of stalking footsteps. I up my pace to a rather uncomfortable march. Faster than usual. No, she is still there. Will she overtake, or not. I begin to feel self-conscious. That 'does my bum look big in this' moment. She is my Rival. Go one, overtake. Then, just before the junction, she does. Though I make it quite difficult by refusing to slacken the pace. It seems to take ages for her to pass me, and we walk parallel for an embarrasingly long time. Although I want her to pass me, I still feel slightly resentful.
She takes the 'short route' and turns into the sloping road.
Then I decide to play the game. I carry straight on. She probably thinks I am going the ‘long way’. But I know better. I’ll race her. I find myself getting a little out of breath, more from my anxiety to win than from the exertion. And I cheat. I do a spot of Scouts' Pace, 10 steps walking ,10 steps running. Then I break into an ungainly jog. I get to the main road and can see the dental surgery ahead. No sign of the Rival yet. The traffic slows slightly at the junction, and I do a death-defying canter across the road at the longest angle that I can without being mown down by a four-by-four.
Then I decide to play the game. I carry straight on. She probably thinks I am going the ‘long way’. But I know better. I’ll race her. I find myself getting a little out of breath, more from my anxiety to win than from the exertion. And I cheat. I do a spot of Scouts' Pace, 10 steps walking ,10 steps running. Then I break into an ungainly jog. I get to the main road and can see the dental surgery ahead. No sign of the Rival yet. The traffic slows slightly at the junction, and I do a death-defying canter across the road at the longest angle that I can without being mown down by a four-by-four.
Then out of the corner of my eye I see my Rival. She is only now crossing the county hall car park. But I am now opposite the dental surgery, and she is not yet there. I try to look nonchalant and change my stride to a saunter. Made it.
I wonder if she is aware that I Have Won? I don’t suppose she has even noticed me.
I walk on, with a satisfied smile. Such childish pleasures!
No comments:
Post a Comment