Homo erectus
I do not think running meant anything until I had been in the Army for a couple of years. We went on two-mile runs on a regular basis, but I hated it. We ran in formation in long lines, singing songs led by a drill sergeant who would shout a line and we would return it or shout back given responses. I wish I could remember some of these, but they have all disappeared except for fragments like, “A yellow bird, (echo) with a yellow bill, (echo) was sitting on, (echo) my windowsill.” Where the (echo) was us echoing what the cadence caller had just shouted/sang. There was lots of swearing. Continue reading Running on our inner ape
