Thursday, Miles 0 – 41.
Destination: Frederick, MD.
Distance: 41 Miles
Death before dishonor, but neither before breakfast. My parents, it should be noted, are considerably more healthy than I am; my mother can kill a deer with a cast iron skillet at 30 paces and my father runs marathons for fun and profit. I used to hope to be in as good shape as they are when I reach the same age; these days I’ve lowered my sights to just reaching the same age. Needless to say, the idea of actually *eating* in the Waffle House holds a sick, fascinating attraction for them; it’s like realizing that you can order dessert for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and no one will yell at you. That they were the thinnest adults in the place did not bother anyone – they’ll serve anyone at the Waffle House.