Lake Newport, my new gym
By the end of my recent 2 year gym membership I had gained 20 miserable lbs. There was no mystery as to why.... .. A/ I had not actually been to the gym once, not ONCE! during the whole 2 years and B / I had stuck doggedly to my preferred diet of caffeine, sugar and alcohol and it had ceased to serve me well.
Although I was now finally desperate enough to get myself to the gym I could hardly justify the cost after wasting so much money, so instead I decided to join the ranks of the Reston-ites who enthusiastically take advantage of the fact that we live in a planned community. We have 4 residential lakes to walk, jog or run around for free. In fact Robert E Simon, (who put the Res in Reston) designed this little suburban haven with our exercise needs in mind and there are miles of pretty footpaths wending their way through the communities, as well as tennis courts and so on for the ultra keen.
The people who, like me, head to the footpaths round Lake Newport every day fall into a few distinct categories. The fit and fabulous fly past in shorts, expensive footwear and tank tops, ipod headphones in place, exuding an intimidating sweaty, youthful vigor. Occasionally they can be be seen recklessly pushing sports-style baby carriages in front of them as they run, maybe with an equally athletic dog alongside, gamely keeping up the pace. They're like super-human beings from another planet compared to the rest of us.
The flab fighters slog wearily round on their worthy mission in thigh-hiding capri length sweats, surely the most unflattering garment on the market but cooler in our 100F humid summer weather than full length. (Been there, worn them) We exchange rueful smiles of mutual appreciation of each other's commitment and suffering as we pass.
After successfully shedding the offending poundage I've graduated to a kind of contented middle mode, addicted to accomplishing a brisk-ish 2 loops every morning but without the former sense of desperation. There are a few of us around, we're in it for maintenance and mental health or maybe just to walk the dog and meet the neighbors.
I'm not usually bold enough to ask people if I can photograph them but this lovely lady in her hat seemed to invite attention and sure enough, she obliged!
Lucky people live in lakeside houses. The paths weave their way around and between them
It's the heart of the suburbs ..... a mailbox may have it's own picket fence......
...... a plastic goose may guard a lamp post......
while some go for a more sculptural ornament .....
......and others fly the flag.
There are a lot worse places to live than Reston. Thank you Mr Simon!