Three warnings and you're out. So you're racing along, more or less flat out, and all the time there is the chance that around the next corner a judge will hold up a red flag and send you home. And of course there is always the temptation to start running.

The preparations are grinding, even for the shorter but more electric 20 kilometre distance. The only reason the walk isn't as popular as the 100 metres is that those posers are too lazy to try it. And think of the advantages beyond Olympic participation. You could walk around town on a Saturday afternoon and probably have all your shopping done in 15 minutes. Or take a stroll down to the corner shop for the morning newspaper and still be back before the kettle boils. Oh, to be a race walker. Ian O'Riordan

They say you can hear a walker before you see one. Spluttering and huffing wind, ramrod stiff backs, head rolling and elbows jerking, walkers are a breed apart. Apart from what? Everything. A kind of hybrid of standing still and running, it is the only sport known where you try to go as fast as possible with the brakes on.

If you go too fast you are running and if you go too slow you are strolling. That's why they have judges who follow contestants to ensure they don't break into a gallop - a perfectly normal instinct. The "lifting" rule in walking is arbitrarily applied in that there are not enough judges for every person taking part in the race.

If you are leading you get watched. If you are in the middle of a pack you don't and so you can merrily leap into the air with both feet off the ground. The number of Olympic medals won by walkers who run must sit uncomfortably with the IAAF and IOC, but still they persist in forwarding it as an Olympic sport.

But hey, corporate America has not yet said no so walking is still listed. We say stop walking and cut to the chase. - Johnny Watterson