Everything about springtime in New York exhilarates me. The smells emanating from the food venders, the restaurants with outdoor seating, even the peddlers bartering their useless trinkets add to the pulse of the city. When I’m in New York I feel like I am at the center of it all. I even like the bustle of crowds on busy sidewalks… most of the time.
To get to New York, or wherever you escape to, or if traveling for business, typically, you have to navigate through busy airports. I find crowds at airports suffocating. The inexperienced travelers with their rolling suitcases remind me of dog walkers who are being walked by their dogs. Chaotic stressed out people fill the concourse. This airport crowd does not hold the same charm for me as the sidewalks of New York.
I can sense it. I’m not the most self aware person I know, but I can feel when someone is behind me. If I can’t sense it, I can hear it… the clacking sound of heels on tile or pavement. I can tell if the person is gaining on me by the gradual increase In the volume of the clacking sound, or the hot breath on the back of my neck.
I walk with a purpose. Most people who walk at my pace are either doing so for a cardio workout or they, like me, have crap to do. Perhaps they’re on their way home from work, or they’re late for an appointment. Wherever they are headed, the brisk clip of their gate implies that they’re eager to get there.
I’m more aggressive as a walker than I am as a driver. In my car, I have my book on tape, my coffee, and my butt warmer. As pathetic as it sounds, that’s as close to a spa visit as I’m going to get, so I’m not really in a rush to get out my car.
Not so when I’m walking. Walking to me, is like American football. I’m the running back who’s trying to break through the defensive line… or even worse, I’m the running back, and my own offensive line is blocking me.
These people must hear me clacking behind them, and yet they swerve in front of me when I’m trying to pass, somehow spread their girth so I can’t get by, put their bags out to block me. They don’t want to me to get to the end zone, but I will.
Walking, like everything in life is is not about the destination, it’s about the journey…
So let me get on with mine and get out of my way.