Run around Central Park, NYC!

Time of departure: 11:00am-ish. We had had a late night the night prior.

Temperature: 50s, I think.
Environmental Observation: Sunny with a bright blue sky. A beautiful, beautiful day. Perfect running weather.

Route: From Bernie’s house to the loop around Central Park, then back to Bernie’s. Here's a map of the loop.
Approx Distance: 6.5-7ish miles
Running buddies: Matt and Eric. And Bernie too for the first half.
Clothing: Athletic pants and a t-shirt. It was warm! Oh, what to wear?! But this was an adequate choice.

People tally: There were way too many to count, what with it being a sunny warm Saturday morning in Central Park! But a tally would have included: walkers, runners, cyclists, people with dogs, Lacrosse players, figure skaters, little hockey players, carousel riders…

What did I eat pre-run? I forget. Part of a Luna/Cliff bar? Perhaps some dried cherries?
How did I feel? The first half sucked, my body felt all out of wack. But once I got warmed up I felt awesome. I did feel some pressure in my knees for the last 2 miles or so. My quads were wicked-sore the next day, but I also was getting sick so some of the leg pain may have been fever induced. It's difficult to say.
What do I like about running? Oh, I like the competition.
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There is so much I wanted to write about this run. But then I got sick. And it is now Wednesday and I’m still sick. How do I write a cheerful, happy, fun-run-in-the-sun blog when I’m dripping and sweating and shivering and glassy-eyed?? Good question.

But I do recall when I started this run I felt pretty crappy too. I recall the muscles in my legs felt pretty whinny, unhappy, and uncoordinated. I made the boys stop after 1½-2 miles so I could stretch, I hoped that would balance them out a bit. Nope. Probably 2½-3 miles into it I recall saying to Matt, “This sucks.” Nothing felt good about running. I knew Eric must be out of earshot for surely he would have reveled in my negativity. “But I run the sucky runs so that I can have the runs that feel oh, so good.” There, that’s more positive, and that was the motivation I needed to keep running, for the promise of better runs yet to come. I had no expectation that it would feel better in that same run. But that is how it seems to work. No matter how awful I feel in the beginning, if my cells have juice, eventually (like after 4-5 miles) things start to click into place.

I recall we were on the east side of the reservoir, when I had to do some fancy footwork to dodge people and puddles, that I started having a good time. I think I enjoy changing up the tempo and rhythm of my feet. I recall running down hill at one point, trying to keep abreast with a much faster runner. And then the delightful trail through hilly woodland on the north end of the park! How fun! We don’t have anything like this on the lake front. Nothing but manicured trees in Chicago.

Then we came to, if I’m not mistaken, in the upper west corner of the park, just past the ice skating rink, a lot big hills and lots of tall flights of stairs. Matt of course took it all like the antelope he truly is, but it kicked my ass, and Eric’s too. Bernie had sense enough to have turned for home by this point. We certainly don’t have hills combined with lots of stairs in Chicago.

And then something happened. Well, I know what happened. Eric and Matt started talking condo talk. My eyes glazed over, I got bored, and so I had to run faster. So they ran faster. I could still hear them. So I ran faster. And so it went. Until Eric said something about me being really quiet. Not as talkative as I usually am. Something about me being in the zone? The zone. A meditation on the rhythm of my feet. Tuning out nearby conversation. Somewhere in the back of my mind, counting down streets until we would get to Bernie’s street. Measuring my breath. Turning up the pace whenever I got too comfortable with the one I was at. Playing the with the mechanics of my body, how my feet articulate with the ground.

And then Eric may have said something about me running fast that flipped a switch inside of me. People ask, are you competitive? And my first inclination is usually to answer no. Afterall, I don’t engage in competitive sports. The thing I hated most about swim team were the swim meets because I felt so sick with nerves before them. I prefer discussions to debates, because I get too emotionally involved. But then, who is always walking around talking about push-up competitions. Would I have felt so sick before swim meets if I WASN’T competitive? And Eric has to only mention something about running fast, and I think, “oh, you want to run fast? Let’s see how fast we can run.” Of course, Matt is not fair competition, so there would be no fun in racing him. But Eric, I could someday outrun Eric if he doesn’t start doing his mid-week runs. (And I get over this sickness that has me couch-ridden).

So, yea, I am competitive. Eric made some comment about me running fast. And that was all the motivation I needed. This was the fastest few miles of running I’ve done since early in my
military days. And way more fun.

Then we were stopped at a light, but the traffic was clear, so I went on ahead. I think I was a bit out of my mind because, well, because I think I was. I was dodging people and jumping up on the steps of the museums I was passing, doing little dances with my feet. Those old movies with tap dancing on steps came to mind. I reached a street that I knew was past Bernie’s street, I turned around, I didn’t see them. Then, there was Matt. And then Eric. Ready for a cool down? No? Okay, let’s keep running then.

My face was bright red when we got back. I haven’t looked like that all winter.