As part of my Lenten Rehabilitation, as it were, I've also taken up walking. I live about a mile from a well-known run/hike/bike trail. It's an old railroad bed that travels through almost 50 miles of urban/suburban/rural terrain in Northern Virginia, from Arlington to Purcellville. Both Union and Confederate troops commandeered this route toward the beginning of its more than 100-year tenure as one of the preeminent rail lines in the region.
So, this is the routine, should I choose to pursue it: Stroll down to the trail; meander about two miles at a quasi-urgent, heartbeat-raising rate to the "downtown" area of my DC 'Burb. Stop for coffee, then stroll back home through town, taking a more circuitous route.
Supporters of my new regimen are taking bets: Will she give up on the queso or the walking first? Only time will tell. I do know one thing, though. I'll probably be noshing on nachos long before I ever walk those 50 historic miles on my neighborhood trail.