There are people who were born to run. They are like gazelles. Their feet flow evenly across the ground and their style is effortless. Then there are people like me. You can hear me coming before you see me. I have seen female runners turn in terror when I approach from behind. One woman, without even turning to look, went straight into the bush beside the running track. I shouted, "Are you OK.?". She just looked at me and nodded sheepishly. Slap, Bang. The "slap" is the sound of my left foot striking the ground. The "bang" is the right foot chasing the left foot. My running gait is a akin to a swaying building. The right foot hits hard, bang, then my body seems to swing slightly to the left and then my left foot hurtles towards the ground with the slapping force of a ship crashing against a wave. Swish, Swish. That is the sound of my arms as they twist in front of me. Slap, Bang, Swish, Swish. Slap, Bang, Swish, Swish. I know ...