Column Maybe.

Capital I, Capital I, Capitol I.

Washington, DC — With each swing of my arms, I water the plants dotting narrow gardens that extend like long, manicured fingers from colourfully painted homes.

Sun flits through the leaves, casting shadows that slow dance across the sidewalk like awkward sixth-graders, languid and tentative. It’s that hot. Even first thing in the morning, the air folds its grasp around my lungs.

It’s a greenhouse.

But I push on through Truxton Circle and NoMa, past Union Market and on to Ivy City. I've been through prettier, and apparently much safer, parts of the city. 

Arriving at the United States National Arboretum, my reddened face is in stark contrast to all the green.

Twenty-two Corinthian sandstone columns rise before me like chess pieces, seemingly misplaced in a vast meadow buzzing with crickets. I have come across the final resting place for most of the original columns of the United States Capitol.

Built in 1826, they served as the backdrop for countless historical events, including Presidential inaugurations from 1829 to 1957 — Andrew Jackson to Dwight Eisenhower. Now, they stand solemnly, a human creation set in nature, whispering stories amidst the low rustle of leaves.

Fitness, stubbornness and a love of exploring still have me walking everywhere. 

At 41 degrees, however, this may not have been the wisest day to hike 23 kilometres.

But my reward: top-notch beers at Other Half Brewing.