"I recall a year or so back seeing a youngish lady moving at an incredibly slow pace along our street. I felt sorry for her, assuming that she must be suffering from some terrible debilitating disease. However she was then caught by her colleague who was moving slightly faster, like a sloth under sedation"
LOL - that brings back a few memories.
It's called the "pioneer plod" in the UK.
We had a few pioneers who were past masters at it. As an elder taking the group , I knew I could assign them a street of maybe 12 doors and they would be "sorted" for the whole morning.
The method was to walk incredibly slowly between doors , chat for ages ( 10 minutes or so ) on not homes , spend ages on the street corner writing down any "interest" ( usually a tract or magazine placement ) and generally just dawdle the morning away. The advent of mobile phones made things even easier as they could just stand and text or facebook between doors as well , or wander off to see how other like minded ones were "getting on" in other streets. It was painful to observe the incredibly slow place of walking and it often reminded me of the "slow bicycle races" that I used to enjoy in my youth , where we tried to go as slowly as possible without falling off.
There of course would be a sudden transformation at coffee break time that even Lazarus would have been impressed with - the slothlike pace would turn into a virtual sprint- almost running to the car to zip off to the local Starbucks for 45 minutes or so.