Walking at a dead run

Round here the locals are very fond of a brisk morning constitutional. Apart from the MAMILs (middle aged men in lycra) roaming the streets on their unbelievably expensive bikes, the rest are content to walk. And some of those little old dears can put on one hell of a pace.  In fact one was nearly mown down by a couple this morning. They zipped past with bright and chirpy good mornings...

It is an affectation of the locals to be unrelentingly cheerful and friendly, and oddly enough you can always spot older residents as opposed to new by it. The new people have the grace to maintain a surly silence.  In fact one has taken to a certain vindictive pleasure in saying "morning" just to see them cringe.

Mind you that whole morning greeting ritual is part of an overriding need to congregate on street corners, having conversations at the top of their lugs. It is a contributing factor to why sleeping in round here is a rare thing... we live on a very popular corner... one on the way to the local convenience store. We get them coming and going for their morning papers and milk L

Anyway back to narrowly missing being muscled into the gutter...

Hell some of those little dears can run Him into the ground and used to do it with embarrassing regularity when he went for an early morning walk. We used to wonder out loud how they did it. His theory was that they shortened their stride thereby enabling them to move faster. Personally one always suspected it was driven by a competitive need to make it to the next corner and catch up on more local gossip...

Either way the end result is ferociously, aggressively cheerful bands of elderly people roaming the streets in the early morning light, spreading their particular brand of bonhomie...

To be honest the MAMILs, though hated and despised by most, are almost preferable. They don't pretend civility as they sweep you off the path with their wake.