Our time in North Carolina is much too short, and before we know it the Jeep is packed from top to bottom, the luggage rack perched above the vehicle holds the maximum allotment of two suitcases, and we're on our way to DC.
We are lucky to be staying in our former neighborhood in Dupont Circle. This blog was originally created years ago in Jordan, although if I'd had the bright idea a little sooner, the story would have begun in our town before Amman, which was Washington, DC. Liebi and I had avoided DC for years before actually moving there in 2005, instead electing to live in New York and North Carolina after our Peace Corps service. A flawed decision, as time would tell, as we both agree to this day that Washington was the best place we've lived in together in the U.S…at least before we bought our house in Tryon.
DC is big, for sure, but not absurdly so like New York or Los Angeles. Here you still have the feeling that you can be treated to everything that is good while being allowed a safe amount of air to breathe. The museums and the zoo do not charge admission, which comes in handy this time around with children in tow.
Of course, it is now the end of October, so there is a chill in the air that is heralding the imminent arrival of winter. I've almost forgotten what that feels like, although it's pleasant and still not cold enough for thick layers of clothing, either for Liebi and myself or the boys.
On a more minor note, Washington has been my favorite city for running. On one chilly morning, I get up at six thirty, get dressed and am out the door before Liebi and the kids have shaken off the cobwebs. Although I usually prefer to run through Rock Creek Park, today I am in the mood to take a direct route to the Mall.
It's not a good decision at first, it seems. You'll be surprised to see how many Washingtonians are up and about at that time, people driving cars in particular. Somehow I do make it to the Mall without any major delays, Washington still cloaked in the dark. At the Washington Monument, I find it's been covered in scaffolds, which stems from the damage caused by the recent earthquake here. Big whoop, I'm thinking. For all of its significance, it's not like the monument is the most aesthetically pleasing object to look at anyway. Far from it. Let's face it: the difference between the Washington Monument and a smokestack is the fact that the monument is pointed at the top and doesn't spew out smoke.
What's very convenient about the Washington Monument is the fact that it is fenced around in a 100 meter-or-so radius, so that it makes for an ideal track to run laps around. I decide to circle the monument a couple of time before proceeding to the Lincoln Memorial. Here I do my Rocky impersonation, sprint up the stairs, and stretch my arms triumphantly over the city beckoning in front of me. I notice at least another dozen joggers who have had the same idea.
After the Lincoln Memorial, I head to the Potomac, where there are so many runners I lose count. If that isn't enough, I discover there are a couple of rowing teams on the Potomac, their members wrapped in warm coating and wool caps, all of them awaiting the signal from the coxswain. Eat your heart out, New York, I am thinking. Not only does Washington never sleep, but it appears to be training for the Olympics 24/7.
Eventually, I make my way through the old familiar Rock Creek Park and back to the hotel, where I take a deserved breather after over eight hard run miles through DC. Not bad for a forty-something geezer, I am thinking.
Meanwhile, the cars in DC have only multiplied, more pedestrians are off to work, and DC is positively alive and kicking at a a quarter till eight. The chill has subsided somewhat, but the warm feelings I still have for DC certainly have not. All things considered, it is great to be back, I decide.
