I never was much of a scamperer. More of a lumberer, me. Or a sitter and thinker, which doesn’t do much for the physical scamper muscles.
Good for the mental ones, though. Or bad, depending on the circumstances. Good if everything goes pear-shaped and a quick mental scamper can mean the difference between victory and defeat. Not so good if you’re trying to concentrate on A and the brain scampers off to B, C or Z which it finds more appealing. Particularly if you’re writing something in your head and the scamper happens before you’ve pressed the mental ‘save’ button.
I write in my head a lot while I’m in the surf. Don’t know what it is about that. The walk down to the beach, perhaps: a gentle stroll that lends itself to contemplation; the elemental quality of immersing oneself in the ocean. But it’s silly, in a way: all too easy to be distracted and lose the thread. Essential to be distracted, in fact. Think of the next phrase instead of the approaching wave and you can find yourself dumped like a sack of spuds. Not clever.