Saturday, 18 July 2026
In defence of the run that looks suspiciously like a walk
Saturday morning. I’d decided to keep it sensible — no long run this week, because it’s the first time I’ve run more than four days in seven, and even I know not to get greedy. Just an easy one, same as always: conversational tempo, strategic walks, the whole patient-returning-athlete routine.
Then, as I’m literally stepping out the door, my brother-in-law’s sister decides she’s coming too.
And here’s a thing I’ve now learned about myself: I have absolutely no pace discipline when someone is talking to me. We chatted nearly the whole way. I was trying, honestly trying, to keep it nice and slow — but you put a human being next to me and my legs quietly betray the plan. The watch says 6:38 a kilometre. My usual is nine. I did not mean to do that.
But the real reason I’m writing this is to defend a specific and noble form of locomotion. You know the one. That gait where you are, technically, running — arms doing the thing, knees lifting, the whole biomechanical performance of a runner — and yet a reasonably committed walker could stroll straight past you without breaking stride.
That’s my recovery pace. And I stand by it.
Those “walks” of mine are not walks. They are active running-shaped movements performed at approximately the velocity of a determined pensioner heading for the last bus. To the untrained eye: a man walking. To me, from the inside: a serious athlete managing his effort with tactical precision. Both of these are true. I contain multitudes, and one of those multitudes is barely outpacing a stroll.
The thing is, it works. Run more than I walk, walks that look like runs, a bit of conversation to make the distance vanish — and 5.47 kilometres just quietly happened, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Five days of running in one week, done, and the legs still feel like mine.
Next week I’ll stretch the weekend run out a little longer. At my pace, “longer” is a generous word. But we’re getting there — one convincingly athletic shuffle at a time.