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The holiday death march

rowing up, we had lots of family traditions during the holidays — baking six kinds of cookies with my grandmother, spending an entire day on Christmas Eve and going on a post-meal “death march” around the neighborhood. Well, in reality, it was at most a 20-minute walk — as mandated by my mother — designed as an intermission from the relentless consumption that accompanies most holidays, which my less-active relatives fondly dubbed the death march. Yet despite their complaints, everyone came back feeling revived and refreshed and much better from having pushed away from the dining table, however briefly.

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