Remembering "The Postman"

I was thinking the other day about a runner I used to know. We called him "The Postman", since his job was delivering the mail. For a while in his life, he was losing his battle with alcoholism. He hid beers in his mail sack, and would drink them on his routes. I heard rumors that he'd disappear for a few days without warning, and then call his wife in Ohio to tell her he was in a hotel in someplace like Phoenix, totally out of money, and plead with her to pick him up.

He stopped drinking and started running. On training runs, he was always smiling, always talking, and always pushing the pace. When everyone was done, he'd still put in a few more miles. He started doing ultra marathons, races over distances of 30 to 100 miles, and he'd do them almost monthly, sometimes weekly. It often takes over a month to recover from these events.

I suppose being addicted to running beats being addicted to alcohol. I don't know if he saved his marriage, or ever had a relapse, and have lost track of him.

Where ever you are "Postman", hope you've still made it.