I’m an admitted fastwalker. I’d conservatively rank myself in the top 5-10% of daily commuters based on average walking velocity during my trek across the Loop and back. And as a fastwalker, I know the other consistently fastwalkers pretty well (at least their faces – I haven’t conversed with any of them – that would be insane). Now, I don’t know why, but for some reason it’s amazingly irritating for me to be walking behind anyone walking equally as fast as me. You’re slow? No problem, I’ll pass you like you’re standing still. But if you’re as fast as me? We got problems. Shouldn’t matter, right? It surely does. Maybe it’s my competitive spirit. Honestly, I’ve caught myself approaching a light jog and breaking a noticeable sweat just to put a few precious millimeters in front of me and the person. Ridiculous, I know. But true. There are three people on my normal schedule that really get me to walk like an veritable crack-addict: 80’s Black Velcro Sneakers and Cassette Walkman Guy, Bow-legged Middle-aged Technology Middle-manager Guy, and Very Similar to Christian Bale in American Psycho Only Shorter Guy. I’m convinced the 4 of us will have to stage a walk-race one of these days and settle this damn thing once and for all.
