Walking, cities, and baseline fitness

 Growing up in Marietta, Georgia, I played outside quite a bit, but while our neighborhood had some nice creeks and forests, it did not have any sidewalks. When you went somewhere, you got there in a car, even if it was less than a mile away. I remember driving to Eastside Baptist Church, which Google Maps says is .07 miles away from my childhood home. Walking was for the mall. 

Children of the Sun

“245 unread messages” my Blackberry tolled. I had turned the dreaded workhorse on after a week, dreading its weary proclamations. How I had cherished the days without glaring at its tiny, but unforgiving screen. My camping backpack laid heavily on my shoulders- a double bagged bolus of sulphur-reeking Vibrams and muddy bathing suits. I suspected getting the smell out of the Vibrams would require elaborate chemical warfare. 

My arms and legs were covered with gashs, nicks, tears, welts, and oddly shaped bruises.