Last night I spent quite a while on the phone with a young friend, mainly talking about the young man in her life. He joined the Army reserves, and was in basic training for a big chunk of time this spring. K. wrote him a letter every day he was gone. A real, honest-to-goodness, handwritten, snail mail letter. Every day.
Well, as the military is wont to do, they held all mail for the first month of training, so they could have the recruits' full attention. At the first mail call, therefore, M. received something like sixteen letters from K.
Apparently, there is another custom related to mail in the military: for each letter received, the recipient must do 25 push-ups.
You can do the math.
If M. wasn't in shape before he got the letters, he certainly was afterwards.
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