Going Postal

My second day of walking, and I am an old pro: better shoes this time and much less clothing (bras still a must). It was amazing to me how good I felt when I got to work after a brisk walk. Exercise does help clear the mind. Maybe that is why this journey was much more contiplative and not just about evaluating the meaning behind my outdated playlist. What is the moral of this story? How do I explain this chapter in my book of life lessons. Heavy right? Thank God my mind wandered away from that as soon as I was kindly greeted by the local mail carrier, wearing shorts...What the hell is that about. His legs were as pink as the belly of a baby pig. Still feeling a bit sorry for myself, and grasping for some perspective, I began thinking about how much a mail carrier walks on a daily basis, and by choice. My curiosity on this subject haunted me through my shift at work. When I returned home I hopped online and pulled some interesting statistics to cure my 8 hour obsession.

Mail carriers average about 1906 steps per hour, 15,251 steps in 8 hours or 6 miles. Not as many as I would have guessed. Comparing it to my own situation in which I am walking 2.7 miles in one hour. I must be keeping a much faster pace- thank you, Justin! I feel so proud! Speaking of mailmen, why is it that there are so many adages in our culture about them: going postal, the mailman's baby and so on... walking seems to calm me down. I certainly didn't feel any need to whip out my AK47 and unload it. As for the lonely housewives waiting at the window with Fido for the next delivery, I think maybe, just maybe they have found their cure at the bottom of a prozac bottle (or that trusty case of jell-o.) Then again, maybe the mailman's knees weren't pink from the cold.