The canal ran parallel between Georgetown’s main drag, M Street, and the Potomac River only two blocks away. I checked my watch again: 5:35 a.m. Early enough so not many cars drove past me on the bridge. High-rise office buildings and condo apartments lined most of the two blocks between me and the river. Riverfront views were as gorgeous as they were pricey. But I didn’t even bother looking toward the river; my attention was fixed on the towpath, the half-dirt, half-paved trail that bordered the canal. Barge-pulling mules once trod that path three hundred years ago. Now, runners and tourists used the path, which ran all the way to Great Falls in Virginia. It was a perfect early August morning—before the heat rose and there was only a whisper of humidity. Since I’d forced myself to get up an hour earlier than usual, I knew I should really take advantage of this gorgeous weather and start my morning run. Instead, I stood waiting and watching.
