Walking Vs Pounding

Do you walk? Right, best to go read another article then because frankly you probably know more than me on the subject, and I don’t need that sort of pressure peering over my shoulder. For the rest of us i.e.myself and the dog watching me type, it’s time to discuss Walking versus Pounding. What is ‘walking’? Walking is an upwardly mobile activity, done at a relaxed enough pace that you can notice the nearly expired rego on your vehicle and sigh, the kind of speed you can see the rain sweeping toward you and fumble to get your brolli up, but also the right speed to notice pleasant naturey things. If you are panting after 10 paces and not 400kg, slow it down. It should feel natural, organic, unshaven. It is not to be confused with ‘the dawdle’, which should only be used for markets (included the synthetic variety), thrift shops and Ikea. This pace was surely not natural to MPP (my primitive peoples) as it invariable screws up my back. Use dawdling infrequently and with due care. So, walking is a speed at which you can take in the fresh air and birdsong and easily pause to fill a dog-poop bag without yanking the head off the dog. It is useful for noting the seasons and relaxing and of course a bit of exercise although this is never to be used as first priority. Dear me. Pounding? Pounding is putting your feet down at such a pace as to feel like you are planning to 'cover some miles today Legolas'. It is not ‘running to catch the train’ speed. Nor is it power-walking. Sigh. Who invented that coronary assault? Never ever call power-walking walking for a start. A friend once asked me if I wanted to go for a ‘walk’ one morning. Sure, says I. Well she shot off like a rocket I’d just lit- I had to jog to catch up. Of course I felt compelled to match pace. Alas, I had trimmed the topiary less than three days before and I could feel the sort of friction only an elephant’s arse and a tree-trunk can produce, beginning. Then there was the ‘trying to chat’, when every millipound of oxygen really needed using to keeping me from passing out.The speed at which we went caused my eyes to water so I couldn’t appreciate any nature that blurred by, and if it was called exercise it can only mean in the military sense where I needed to try and stay alive with just the clothes on my back. By walks end I almost had herniated dyspepsia. I do not know what that is, but the words feel right to describe my pain. So power-walking. Only for sports people and others who enjoy hurting. Pounding on the other hand is great. It can be done in happy times (tra la la) or angry times (bloody phone technician cancelled again, bloody...) and it feels good anyway. You are not walking too fast to enjoy the scents in the air (blossom, wood smoke, blood and bone) but the thighs get a right jiggling and the dog must trot. I find this the best pace for ideas to pop into my head. And, I must say, the pounding of your feet on the ground feels like an accomplishment. Even if the rest of your day is boring waffley crap (you work for a big company), you know you already ‘achieved something’ at the beginning of the day. Ha! They can’t take that off you Francine! Having said that, you can pound or walk in the evening too and it is most pleasant to do so. Dog poo is a little harder to skirt and car headlights make you want to bolt back to your bunny hole, but overall, it’s the other best bit of the day to do your stuff. And, if you do back to back evening and morning, you’ll think you’re pretty bloody amazing which is probably more than the boss or the kids are going to tell you. Win-win all round young Skywalker.