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If a street looks quiet, here's a tip to make it to the other side without using a crosswalk...keep looking both ways (that's left and right people, not up and down) over and over and over again until you make it to the other curb. If you have to sprint to make it across and the oncoming car would pass a second after you step on the opposite side...then it's not worth the risk. Suppose you fall? Then you just become a speed bump on Glebe Road or Georgia Avenue. (Was that too graphic?) If you sprint and won't cut it that close, then take your chances, but watch your step. It's certainly better if you can make it across without having to run. If you safely crossed 30 seconds later when traffic was quieter, I'm sure you'd have been just fine.

Playing Grand Theft Auto makes it seem so easy.
One other thing, if you do cross a busy street outside of the crosswalk and you see a car approaching, please don't stop in the middle of my lane to stare at me. I'm not the one who doesn't want to live to see what the opposite sidewalk feels like. Just remember, a moving car almost always beats (both competatively and physically) a live target.

Ahhhh!!! Where's the rest of his right leg???



I still hate the first mile and a half, but so does everyone. Once you get past that mark, you reach that nirvana known as runner's high. It's not so much a euphoric feeling as it is a lack of feeling in your lower extremities that prevents you from feeling any pain or discomfort while running. Since March, temperatures have been plenty warm for the regular running I now do about 3 times a week. I never thought I'd enjoy running long distances, but now I can't help myself. It helps when there are several good running routes around DC and the Potomac River, but more than that, it just feels good.

Here's how you build your own running shoes...let me know when you finish.
I may even sell my thrice-used and much heralded bike, but let's not walk that plank just yet. I've even entered the Race For the Cure, my first race since high school. It's a 5k or about 3.1 miles (who knew running would teach you measurement conversion?). I might even post my time if it's halfway decent. Until then, here's to few shin splints, twisted ankles, and hoping traffic starts to acknowledge runners in crosswalks by the Memorial Bridge.
As if fighting the Friday 5 PM crowds wasn't hard enough.
Counting on the even step, I had no trouble until steps 40-42-44 when I started counting too quickly. Nevertheless, I pressed on because I'm tough like that and finished with a total step count of....drum roll please....158! Of course this is +/- 5 for miscounting, to cover myself until someone else gets stepping, and because it's tricky counting the flat (non-descending) steps. If I wasn't pressed to get to work on time, I would have rode up the working escalator and walked down again to give myself another counting. And no, I wasn't about to walk up the escalator before work because I'd rather not break a sweat and deal with that all day at my desk. Considering my first Rosslyn stair count, it's safe to say it's equal to the Washington Post's Express count of the Woodley Park/Adams Morgan stairwell at 160 steps.

If you want to join the Super Terrific Escalator People Sessions (STEPS), you should start by studying how it works.
Technically, there are more stairs to consider at Rosslyn because of the escalators that take you to orange and blue line trains headed toward Vienna/Fairfax-GMU and Franconia-Springfield. They've been working well the last few weeks so another counting session is in order. You should know that I'm not addicted to counting escalator steps or have some weird staircounting hobby, but it's hard not to think about it when you walk up them everyday. By the way, today's celebrity lookalikes included Rene Russo (but I couldn't see how close she was to Rene's obnoxious tooth to gum ratio) and a 200 lbs lighter William "Refridgerator" Perry. Imagine that kid.
Around 5:15 this afternoon (or evening if that's your fancy), I was walking toward the long Rosslyn escalators. As usual, I was sizing up the two lanes to determine the easiest and fastest one to walk up the left-side. As I inched closer, the right escalator had very few people. In fact, it had nobody in either the local (left) nor the tourist (right) lanes. I imagined myself flying up the escalator in my way-too-old sneakers that I wear to save my feet from dress shoe blisters. Oh sure, the other escalator's line was very long and nobody was approaching the right escalator, but I might as well shoot for the moon.
What Dupont (or any station's stairs) look like as you catch the last train on Saturday night.
I appoached the VIP escalator and saw a metro worker toying with it. I asked if I could still walk up the escalator (and fulfill my dream of finally counting the number of steps in the Rosslyn station (I average 88 steps when I traverse it)), but I was told he was simply trying to get it running again. Unfortunately, I had to pass on this oasis of metro stairclimbing and travel up the slower than usual left lane of the only working escalator. I probably looked like a jerk since I walked right up to the broken escalator only to cut in line of the working one at the last minute. I was no better than those cars that get over at the last minute on Cabin John Parkway. As I made my way up the moving escalator, I watched the right one with intensity, only to find it not working by the time my trip ended. If only I could have gone up the frozen escalator and found out just how many steps there are...if only I also had a brain and realized how unimportant finding that out would be.