About three times per week, I walk my dog just under four miles. I walk down the same street each time. Fifteen long city blocks, turn right, walk one block turn right, walk 15 blocks, turn right, walk one block, and I am home again. Once in a while I make small deviations, but otherwise this is the plan.

Last week, on a lark, we arrived to the normal turnaround, and I thought, Why not keep going? Almost immediately, both the dog and I were “off.” My boots kept coming untied. I couldn’t picture our exact location on the “map” in my head. I took like three wrong turns. The dog didn’t know where to turn. Unlike our normal route, I couldn’t picture each house as we went past. The dog actually grew anxious at first, looking back to our normal turn. Pathetic, I thought, we go off route and things fall apart.

I smiled to myself. Why are we such creatures of habit? Is it good to be so predictable? Could it be bad? Before I settled on any answer, the dog calmed down and forgot the stress. I figured out where we were on the “map,” and all was fine. Then I noticed the top of a tall building over the treetops. I recognized the building. I’d seen the top of it before from a far distance while on the interstate going 65 miles per hour. I’d never been so close to the building. I walked towards it. Turns out the building is a beautiful, old (by Minneapolis standards) water tower built in the 1930s on top of a hill. It’s called the Washburn Water Tower and replaced the original, 1893 water tower built to support a nearby orphan asylum (link to more info here).

Imagine that. Since I took up walking three years ago, I’ve covered my route many dozens and dozens (perhaps hundreds) of times. My turnaround point has been less than 100 steps from where I could see the water tower. Getting to the water tower added just 700 steps to my walk. I can’t help but wonder what else I’ve missed. Around 100 walks. South 15 blocks, west one, north 15, east one. South, then north. A few times each year I walk west to the nearby lake and then walk around it, but that makes the entire walk two miles longer. What other things, like this water tower, have I missed out on because I never walked, say, due east instead of my normal route. What about north? What would I encounter if I took normal straight south route just halfway then veered southeast?

Now this water tower is nothing extra special. It’s a small park with a water tower in it. Seeing the whole thing–and it’s worth seeing–takes ten minutes tops. But it is worth seeing and was a wonderful addition to a long walk on a beautiful, clear Spring morning in Minnesota. And at the “cost” of 700 steps there and 700 steps back this was a no-brainer.

What about the other parts in my life? What I am missing out on by sticking to my normal trails? Would 100 steps more (or taking a different route every time) find me a new Washburn Water Tower in most realms of my life? What is just over the treetops a few steps away in my relationships? Faith life? Work? I guess the lesson to me is push harder, go farther, and switch it up to keep things interesting . . . One hundred steps and I could see it. Six hundred more and I was there.