On Your Marks...

The other day an old man tried to race me along the pavement, and it released a whole set of emotions in me. He wasn't even a fit-looking old man. He was frail and had a stooped, almost hunch back. He was also dragging along one of those tartan shopping trolley things behind him. We were walking side by side to start off with, heading towards a pedestrian crossing. I could see the lights turn red and the green man appear, but it was too far away for me to contemplate running to try and make it. The old man however did make an attempt to catch it. My first emotion was scorn. A sort of 'if I can't make that, you're never going to make it' sort of feeling. He didn't make the green man, and I felt guilty for mocking his attempt and for feeling so superior. We both ended up at the edge of the pavement waiting for the next green man. When it came he took off across the road leaving me to eat his dust, his shopping trolley clattering behind him. As soon as he hit the opposite pavement he stopped dead and started walking very slowly again, which meant that I almost walked right into the back of him. So I side-stepped around him and started to overtake. He was having none of it and this was when the race started. He began to run again, refusing to let me get past. This irritated me, and I sped up too but then I felt silly for rising to the challenge so I let him go. So he slowed down again. So I attempted to overtake once more. So he sped up again. Unfortunately for him, he was blocked by someone coming in the opposite direction at this point, so he had to stop (basket and all) while I strode on to victory. At this point, I was all 'ha, in your face!' As I got closer and closer to our destination (shop), I could hear him struggling to catch me again, his footsteps on the pavement and his shopping trolley being dragged behind him. Then the whole situation suddenly made me feel sad. I thought about how in his head he probably still felt like a boy, and it must suck not to have your body be able to do things it used to be able to do. I walk everywhere, usually at quite a brisk pace. I worked as a postie for two summers during uni, and ever since then I don't seem to be able to walk slowly. I sometimes get walking rage on the way to work if I get stuck behind someone slower than me. Anyway, it made me think how one day I might be the one getting frustrated at being overtaken by someone in the street. That made me a little freaked out, and also reminded me of what my granny used to say about how quickly old age creeps up on you, so you should appreciate being young while you still can. For a five minute walk to the shop, it was an eventful journey.