Walk a Mile in my Shoes

May 12, 2009

I was helping repair a footpath yesterday, which boiled down to mostly walking back and forth along the unrepaired footpath in a pair of wellies*. The result, if the generalised ache in my legs is anything to go by, was not just a nice repaired footpath, but a superb lower-body workout of the sort you normally have to pay some anorexic shrimp in lycra to force you to do to nasty music in a room full of other anorexic shrimps in lycra who can tell their lefts from their rights and who generally don’t appreciate exercising in a class with someone who can’t**

So I was wondering whether there’s any mileage in flogging an expensive line of ill-fitting clumpy boots and maybe an optional tray of clagging sucking mud for walking in them in – working title ‘Muddy Bloody Wellies’ or MBWs for short – to city-bound office workers who can’t get out into the wilds of Scotland to experience the real thing.

And then I came to my senses and realised that nobody would pay obscene amounts of money for ugly footwear that was deliberately difficult to walk in, even if it did do wonders for their rear view. I mean, would you?

* This wasn’t how we were repairing it, in case you’re wondering (it’s more how it got broken in the first place), but someone had to ferry all the stuff around and that person turned out to be me…

** not, ahem, that I would know this from experience. At all.


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