I’ve been keeping track of my weight over the last few weeks: I’ve been eating less, and trying to work out more. Even though I have a lot more free time since my part-time job all but disappeared, I’m ashamed to admit I’ve been to the gym next door all of zero times in the last weeks. All of the exercise I’ve gotten recently has simply been a result of the basic bipedal need to walk. I started at 252 on January 11th.
A week ago last Saturday, I met up with a coworker and a friend of hers at Navy Memorial for a tour of some of the monuments. We’d previously done a museum tour, introducing her to Natural History, National Gallery, and the Archives. Last week, we stopped past Archives again, then walked west and saw the Washington Monument (up close), the Vietnam War Memorial, Korea, said hi to Abe, then stopped past Air and Space (sorry, Tom). We closed the evening at the National Portrait Gallery, and then we parted ways at Metro Center. The next morning, I weighed myself at 246.5 (which was good, because after initially dropping five pounds on the 18th, I was up to 253 the following Sunday).
Yesterday, my friend Tim came down from Baltimore to return some DVDs and see some sights. We got a bit later of a start than expected — he hadn’t seen the newest Battlestar Galactica, and I really wanted to talk to someone about it. After OnDemanding it, we walked south. It was my plan to board the Metro at Woodley Park, but seeing all the tourists at the station — and the absolutely amazingly warm temps — made me change my mind, and Tim and I decided to walk. We made our way down Connecticut Avenue, then began cutting east: we were both hungry, and I was thinking about Matchbox. We eventually settled on Regional Food & Drink in Chinatown: mehkay (but small) burgers, not-great-service, but okay-priced for the area.
Hunger sated, we stopped past the National Portrait Gallery only long enough to see the Obama Hope portrait, then walked through the enclosed courtyard and exited south of the building. There was a bit of a line at the National Archives entrance, but none for admission to the Rotunda. I’ve already seen the documents, and once out of there, we made our way up Capitol Hill to the Library of Congress. I haven’t been there for probably fifteen years, and while the high ceilings reminded me vividly of my fear of high ceilings (Air & Space does the same), the reading room is truly a wonderful, beautiful library, and it sucked only being able to see it from a viewing alcove. What do you have to do to get access anyway?
Following the Library of Congress, we walked back down to the Mall to check out the Pompeii exhibit at the east wing of the National Gallery of Art. It was okay, but I was sort of hoping for those concrete molds of the people who decomposed in the ash. After the National Gallery, we hiked back to Navy Memorial and ran the line up to Chinatown: I know, it was only a few blocks, we should have just walked. In any case, the delays on the Red Line caused us to wait about ten minutes, and to be on a packed-to-the-gills train. Tim parked at Grosvenor, but I exited at Van Ness for some grocery shopping.
I should have walked home, it’s only about a twenty minute hike back to Woodley Park, but my feet hurt and I was tired: I just ran the L2 home, and cracked my apartment windows wide open to enjoy the unseasonable warmth once I arrived.
This morning, I jumped on the scales: 237.