This morning I walked to work. This morning I hobbled to work. I chose my Doc Martens because I heard the airwalk soles were invented for someone with a broken foot and that’s the way I felt! Youch! Unfortunately I didn’t get to wear those airwalk soles all day. Once lunch was served I had to switch into my unforgiving black dress shoes. 

Oh, and Tuesdays are not easy workdays on my feet. I have to haul a bunch of heavy food and equipment up twenty-two steep stairs. Then I have to unstack fifty heavy-ish metal chairs and place them around six very heavy tables I have maneuvered into place with a hand truck. Two hours later I have to reverse the process. 

Believe it or not, this job was particularly unpleasant today. And yet, somehow I found the strength to make it through. 

During the drive down to Centralia (where the work site is on Tuesdays) I was wondering to my coworker whether eighty years ago, Americans could walk all day and not have it hurt? Was walking five hours cruel and unusual punishment or am I just not in shape for walking? My coworker told me that her grandfather and his brothers herded pigs from Morton to Centralia sometime early in the twentieth century, That would be a distance of more than forty miles. She said it took them three days. My route yesterday was about thirteen or fourteen miles for the roundtrip. So I guess I would have to imagine doing that route for three days straight, with a bunch of pigs around, rest a day or two, and return. 

Of course there are those nutty people who decide they need to walk across the country. Surely an extra mile doesn’t bother them. I think that would be a nice skill to have: to be able to walk all day and not have it nearly put you out of commission for the next couple of days. 

When I got home from work today I did not want to do any chores around the house! I wanted to sit on my ass as much as possible! In fact, as I was sitting, I rested my feet on the ground turned inward so that the outer edge of my foot rested on the ground instead of my aching soles. 

By the way, to get to work I get to walk on what is probably one of the prettiest streets in Olympia: Legion west of Plum. The mature oaks and liquid-ambar lining the side of the street really give it a magical atmosphere.