Judging by your letters it would seem that nobody out there appears to be indifferent to walking. Either they all love it and get high on it and can't concentrate unless they have done a rake of it, or else they hate it, dread it and will go amazing lengths to avoid it.
People have been coming out in droves as Non-Walkers. They have got parking tickets by putting the car as near as possible to a given place, refusing to walk half a dozen steps more than they believed necessary.
They have gone out for what they called a "walk" and have taken a lift from the first person they met. They have taken taxis to the end of other people's roads and pretended they had walked miles.
One woman wrote to say she got so tired and bored walking she actually lay down on the road hoping they would get an ambulance. But people thought she was drunk and just frog marched her up and down to walk it off.
A man said that he was considered so unreliable by his family that they gave him a stone to place on a different gate in the area each day and they would go and check if he had really got that far.
The non-walkers are as devious as any alcoholic. While they hide the bottles we hide the bus tickets that prove we didn't really make it on foot the whole way from the Forty Foot.
One reader wants to start a support group - Walk Haters Anonymous. She says we could introduce ourselves: "I'm Siobhan and I hate walking." And suggests that if anyone asks us to walk we should involve our mantra - "wha?"
Non-walkers have complained about broken footpaths and pot-holed roads and dog dirt and other litter in the streets. They say that there is insane parking, crazy traffic and trucks reversing into you, buses in roads that are too narrow for them and cyclists who would mow you down.
But those obstacles must be there for the walkers too, to be fair. Is it just that walkers are so high and healthy they don't notice them?
Anyway, I got very helpful advice from people who claim they too hate walking and I am taking all of the advice, pausing only to share the useful hints with you.
1. Buy walking shoes, they said . . .
I did. Unmerciful-looking things - white, many many laces, enormous, like spacemen wear.
Are they comfortable? Well, yes, they are comfortable in that they are like two giant soft hands holding on to my feet . . . From where I am up here looking down at them they seem totally ludicrous, like something Minnie Mouse would wear. But that's what walkers do, and time will tell.
2. Buy a Walkman they said. And I did. And in fact the day after I'd bought it didn't someone send me one, which was very kind so I have a reserve if I ever become a victim of Walk-rage - as one woman whose husband is full of Walk-rage calls it. They suggested I should have a tape with gentle music at the beginning and then work up to great stirring marching music.
So I have got out some lullabies and then Carmina Burana for later.
3. Listen to radio programmes they said. And I've been doing that. I go when Marian Finnucane is on because I would always have been eating lunch in the good old days, or else working at my desk during Liveline. I've heard some great rows and dramas on it that might take the mind momentarily off the awful pounding of the ground.
4. Buy a timer and record radio programmes that you might miss at other times like the Arts Show, or Kaleidoscope. My friend Mairead suggested this and said there was really no excuse nowadays for us to miss anything on the radio, which I have to admit grudgingly is quite true
5. Make calls on the mobile phone. I tried this. I look a bit like a pathetic Yuppie bleating away. But the real problem is that I bit a bit out of breath, even at my pace, and with one hand on the walking stick and one on the phone it's a bit like a windmill. Still, it's a possibility.
6. Go the same route every day and gradually push yourself to do 100 metres more every day. Yes, that's quite a good one. I am able to get a bit further than the spot where the moaning and groaning would begin a few weeks back. And it's quite pleasant looking intensely over and over at the same houses - you start obsessing about people's lives, wondering, for example, why some people have the curtains drawn at lunch-time in what looks like the dining room. And why would someone with a car that cost a small fortune have desperately cheap plastic numbers on the door.
7. Smile at everyone you see. Yes, that's a good idea, it stops you muttering for one thing, and it's a bit of a pre-emptive strike. It would sort of make sure that people smiled back. It's a sour kind of person that wouldn't smile at a poor non-walker with headphones, a stick and idiotic shoes.
And people do smile and talk and I must admit that I have had a few great chats with strangers that I would never have met if I had stayed indoors with my feet up. They can't be long chats, of course, because some busybody will come along and say that leaning on a pillar-box talking isn't actually going for a 30-minute walk.
8. Find an athletics club, become a pavilion member and walk around the track, because it's flat, it's measured and you won't meet dogs, cyclists or shoppers.
Yes, maybe. But however courageous I am, I don't think I could bring myself to approach an athletics club. And maybe the track might be lonely place with no distractions at all and an uncomfortable aura of health and energy about it.
9. Find spacious, congenial places for indoor walking when it's raining. That's a good idea too. I've found Mackeys Garden Centre for starters. You could walk up and down covered walkways and look at the plants and get to know them, learn their names even, or just look at them dreamily if you were playing Ella Fitzgerald singing They can't take this away from me on the Walkman.
I've also been to Power City on a wet day, which isn't bad either. I spent 30 minutes walking up and down the aisles looking at kettles and hair curlers and microwaves and trying to see if I could spot any of the kids in red sweaters who appear in their ads on television.
10. Quite a few people wrote with a wrist-slap. There are a lot of people who would like to be able to get out and walk they said, people for whom it is not an option. Well of course I felt mutinous and thought it was a bit like encouraging a child to eat cabbage by talking about starving children in China.
But then I thought about it for a while.
It's not going to make me love walking, but it did make me think that gross bellyaching about half-an-hour a day it might not be the way to go.