We have a serial criminal in our midst

In the past, whenever people talked about exercise, like going to the gym, running, or – God forbid – cycling, I quoted the pioneer heart surgeon who famously said the only exercise he ever did was to help carry the coffins of his much fitter friends.

I obviously have not aged nearly as well as the surgeon, so have recently taken up walking in a very feeble attempt to keep my heart in rhythm and my belly in check.

The reasons I chose walking is because I firstly don’t have a bicycle – and never want one – and secondly, because my knees are way better at predicting the weather than they’ll ever be at running.

Apart from walking being a very social event, with joggers, cyclists and even dog walkers all greeting or nodding as they pass one another, it does give one a wonderful opportunity to do a close-up inspection of the people in your immediate surroundings.

I don’t know if I am more attentive than other people or whether I just see things differently because I’m seeing it for the first time, but it only took me three walks to discover we have a serial criminal in our midst.

Without proof, I cannot point a finger at any of my fellow exercisers. But I do have my suspicions… It can’t possibly be the mother-daughter jogging team with their matching glow-in-the-dark green tops and caps. And it’s definitely not the dude with his seven – yes, seven, no typo – huskies all in formation.

But… there is only fellow exerciser I don’t trust: the grumpy cyclist with the little moustache. She’s always rude. Mumbles and moans whenever I overtake her. Nobody is supposed to be peddling that slow, unless they’re actually out on a reconnaissance mission, looking for their next prey.

I’ve fallen victim to our serial criminal twice: first my mailbox was stolen and then the fake brass house number was nicked off my wall. In my walks around the neighbourhood, I’ve noticed that probably half the households have suffered the same fate.

I’m on to our local criminal. And I’ll be out for many more walks. It’s just a matter of time before I catch you red-handed.