Walking disaster

Jeremy Clarke on his Low Life

I was looking at trail running shoes in a specialist running shoe shop, intending to buy. The young woman who sprang forward to assist was fit, lean and agile. She exuded tiptop mental and physical health. Helena she was called. She was Czech. I, on the other hand, was crapulous and reeked strongly — even to myself — of the odours of the tavern.

‘How far do you think you will be going?’ she said. ‘Between 50 and 100 miles,’ I said. ‘Running?’ she said, impressed. ‘Walking,’ I said. ‘Along long-distance footpaths in the south of England with a rucksack.’ She looked disappointed. Obviously one of those fanatical runners, she found it incomprehensible that people walked when they could be running. ‘Won’t you feel like running — even just a little bit?’ she said. ‘For instance, when you come to a nice downhill field?’ I told her I doubted it.