Walking Man in 2020
Walking seemed like all there was to do. Movies, inside, with people you don’t know? Who could relax, even wearing a mask, once someone started coughing? Restaurants? You can’t eat or drink with a mask on, and all those people talking with their mouths watering. Shows and concerts? Same thing. Who wants to be standing in a tight crowd with those people?
No, walking was it. It was the only way to spend time with a person that accomplished something more than talking, especially on the phone, which was the safest. A talk on the phone is not terrible, but it is not being with someone, seeing their eyes and eyebrows moving, though with the mask, you can’t understand people as well, nor can you see their lips move. He liked watching lips move. ZOOM and other video meetings? This option usually didn’t occur to him, though protection was not an important aspect of that.
He liked to walk. He often thought he could walk all day. He loved to go on hiking trips where he did long hikes every day, usually after running in the morning – it made him sad to think it would be a while until he could do it again. He had a pace that worked, that he could carry on as long as he needed to. He wasn’t a fast walker; it did grind on him a bit when someone motored by him walking in the city, making it look easy, even women in high heels. When he hiked, he definitely didn’t like anyone going past. On group hikes with people he knew, it didn’t bother him quite as much. But walking with women could be a challenge, especially when social distancing, keeping a pace, paying attention, listening carefully. It was easier now when you couldn’t be close, but still a challenge.
Almost every weekend he went for a walk with a woman. They talked more than he did; he commented from time to time, made sure they went the correct way, and laughed at their jokes. One liked to sit more. She paid close attention to his tone, his gestures, his use of language. He thought part of that was admiring, but sometimes only a bit; otherwise it was judging, scrutinizing, quick to find fault and take offense, but generally enjoying his humor and attitude as well as how his body moved. He was in exquisite shape for his age and knew it, but he was not very graceful or fluid, and she had commented early on about how he was a bit bent over and swung his arms awkwardly, after which he sent her one of the silhouettes of the ascent of man and said he was third from the right. He liked her the best, but he also promised her he would never write about her.
Another grew tiresome quickly after only two walks. She was smart, had a good sense of humor and nice body, but there was something odd about how her shoulders moved exactly the same way each stride, and her voice was low and expressionless.
The third was young and vibrant, full of herself and the world, always at work on some project or another that made her so busy she was usually late and flushed with excitement when they met. She spoke English with a south Asian and Australian accent he found endlessly entertaining, though it came out of her mouth and through the mask in a rapid torrent testing more than his hearing. Blessed with good endurance and a quick step, they walked all over, covering thirteen miles one summer afternoon while she went to open houses and scanned neighborhoods for future growth potential of an investment in a home. She knew all the ins and outs of real estate after only a brief period of study, and she was keen on the timing of renovations, especially with regards to efficiency. Before that she’d discussed financial planning apps, podcasts, and even leaving the US to go back to Australia, always looking for a way to monetize her activities so she could retire early and travel all the time. She’d already done several remarkable journeys, hitchhiking her way around Jordan and Israel alone and backpacking alone from Argentina to Brazil and into the Amazon, making few plans in advance.
But he often went out alone, free to travel his own pace, spoke to no one, wore his mask and often sunglasses though they occasionally fogged up. He tried to convey the notion he was on his way somewhere important but was also courteous in moving aside to keep socially distant. He enjoyed looking at the map of his walks on the GPS website and also was impressed his average heart rate for a quick pace was usually only 83-85 beats per minute. The city welcomed walkers; the only downer was the rude cyclists who did not announce their imminent overtakings. Yes, he was a walking man. A pandemic is a good time to be one.