Alistair Harris has tried his hand, er… feet, at the increasingly popular health craze, Nordic walking.
It’s like cross-country skiing without the snow.

I walk everywhere — to and from work, the shops, to town.

I appreciate the exercise. And, with my 6ft 3ins frame, my gigantic legs make massive strides. I walk a lot faster than the average person, anyway.

But whereas walking requires the mere co-ordination of your left and right legs, Nordic Walking works on all fours. You have to use two special carbon-fibre poles, making sure your arms are in synch with your legs.

The idea is to push off from the poles, which force you on, exaggerating your arm movements backwards and forwards. As your left leg goes forward, so does your right leg, and vice versa, like the cross-training machine at the gym.

The poles — specially designed for Nordic Walking — feature tiny spikes which stick into the turf. Retailing at £70-£90 a pair, they are non-collapsible, making them stronger and more resilient. Many sets come with a lifetime guarantee.

So, with my hands strapped in, instructor Mary Eslam began the warm-ups — some simple ankle rolls, back stretches and arm exercises.

Explaining how to use the poles, Mary says they are never meant to go in front when Nordic Walking. And, as I begin my tentative first walk, she suggests I simply drag the poles behind me to get the hang of the position.

After that, co-ordination comes into play, getting your arms and legs into a piston-like rhythm.

Mary sprinted off at one point, leaving me stumbling like a drunk at last orders — yes, I had to learn to walk before I could run.

It’s a funny feeling, and not just because anyone and everyone you walk past stops for a quick gawp.

The idea is to get 90 per cent of your muscles going, from neck to toes. Balancing the delicate combination of synchronised arms and legs, pole movements and thrusts is helped by looking straight forwards. Eventually, as everything begins to work together, the old hips start swaying from side to side in a gentle mince.

I don’t think I could manage a mile-long trek (I was exhausted after a lap of the cricket field at the Civic Centre), but as far as exercise goes, it beats staring at a wall while the treadmill or exercise bike whirrs.