Over the course of this trip our nutritonal intake suffered noticeably. Our compressed schedule relegated eating to tertiary importance. We gathered food not in pursuit of gastronomic pleasure but out of desperation and convenience; the pizza joint and burger haus were too often located right under our noses, instead of past two toll bridges, way uphill, second on the left, as they should have been. We did dine on Thai and Sushi once apiece, I proudly report, but these healthy dabblings were all too easily and quickly followed by a breakfast of Pop Tarts.

As a gesture of atonement for such a lousy start to our second San Francisco stay, we hit Muir Woods for a knee-busting two hour mostly uphill hike among the redwoods and sequioas (there is a difference: redwoods taller, sequias squatter). Back in town, I observed that the overwhelming majority of the city’s pedestrians appear fit and, had I been allowed to test, firm; denizens with curves were as scarce as—and only spotted on—flat ground.