There are tall ones, short ones, fat ones, lean ones and in-between ones.
The thin ones look like they've been walking for years. The obese ones, I'm sorry to say, should have started sooner.
However, I'm greatly impressed by their dedication. In all kinds of weather they are out, arms swinging wildly as they try desperately to lose a few pounds.
The arm-swinging is part of the process, they tell me, because that burns up calories that the walking overlooks. They look like whirling dervishes as they come down the street.
Like joggers, the faces of the walkers show great pain; but unlike the runners, they don't punish their feet on the sidewalk.
One thing is certain: You don't need special equipment or fancy clothes to be a walker.
Depending on the temperature, an old sweatshirt and baggy trousers will do. Of course, there's got to be some who dress up and are color-coordinated, but they are the minority. Thank goodness!
According to my observations, it seems that most walkers are women. That means one of two things: either they've got more to lose, or they are born-again health freaks. (I'm kidding, of course.)
I could never be a walker. Phyllis has tried every which way to get me to join the foot-sloggers, but I argue that I did all my marching in the Army.
I take pride in the fact that I had the slowest-walking platoon in World War II! That is, unless the men wanted to go to the PX.
But I digress.
Getting back to the civilian-type walkers, I've got to admit that perambulating is good for the ol' heart. Even doctors say it is, so � if you're one of them � you can continue to promenade for your ticker's sake.
There are several other ways to lose weight, though. The best is not eating so much � but that's a totally different subject which I will discuss at another time.
For now, however, the topic in question is walkers, those indefatigable pavement-pounders who have opted for that method of shedding excess avoirdupois.
Once again I say "go for it" � only don't include me! They can stroll around the block all they want to, but � Phyllis not-with-standing � not me.
Go shank's mare (which is another way to say walking) is for the dedicated souls who are out there � rain, shine or snowfall.
Me? I'll take my shank's mare sitting down, thank you. Besides that, I get arthritic twinges when I think about what I'm supposed to do with my arms.
� 2006 Robert F. Karolevitz