Friday, August 1, 2008

Running Socks in the City

There are very few things that you can do no matter where you are… Running is one of those things. It’s healthy, legal, and costs minimal to do it. It’s also a great way to explore a city. I’ve found that most cities are tolerant of the running crowd and that has allowed me to run in cities all across the US. The Big “D”, The Windy City’s Grant Park and now The Big Apple’s Central Park have all been taken in by me, one stride at a time. Before hopping on the train for 3 days in NY, I called Hope Tarr to see if she would be in town. To my delight she had just finished a new book and had time on her hands for a visit. Many of you know Hope as a long time Fredericksburg resident who broke out of our small town for life in the big city. She and I agreed to meet in the Gramercy area at Pete’s Tavern. A place for locals which claims to be the longest continuously running bar in NY and purports that O. Henry had written the short story, Gift of the Magi in one of their booths. Over dinner, I shared that my itinerary included a run in Central Park and with no hesitation Hope accepted the invitation to join me. We had agreed to meet on 90th and 5th avenue. Since I was going to run, I felt fully justified in taking a cab 61 blocks uptown from my hotel. I only met one person during my trip that was not absolutely pleasant…. my cabby had no tolerance for my lack of knowledge of the cities road system. As I told him the street and cross street I was hoping to get to, he exclaimed “Impossible!” After three attempts (while we were moving) and his three similar exclamations, I apparently blurted out something that made sense to him and with quick left turn and his horn blaring a warning, we rolled from the hot concrete into a lush green patch of the city. The contrast is stark. There is no transition from the hot buildings and sidewalks that were loaded with harried shoppers and business people to the cool wooded pathways loaded with runners, bikers, and the like. Each of the outdoor enthusiasts seemed to be enjoying their respite from the grayness of city life, opting for the green and brown of the real outdoors. You should know I find absolutely no joy in the run itself. Yet, no other sport I take part in gives me the physical and mental satisfaction I get from a hard run. Regardless of distance the first half mile or so is all struggles. My legs feel tight, my shoes aren’t feeling right, and my brain begins tossing negative thoughts at me. Shortly after the ½ mile mark everything gets easier. I always have a positive feeling by the time that I finish that sticks with me for hours. During this run we set a pace that allowed for a nice balance of conversation and physical exertion. Unlike me, Hope is a disciplined runner. I have no compunction over a stop for a photo opportunity. My brain kicked in somewhere after the first trip around of the Jaqueline Kennedy Onasis Reservoir. It had adopted a NY accent and a “forgetta-bout-it” voice that got louder in the back of my head. As I stopped and made some attempt at an excuse, Hope quickly shut me down with a well authored quip that went something like “….your not going to go all macho on me are you?” …. Nuff said. The run turned into a walk and continued out of the park for 61 blocks towards downtown. It was filled with the disturbingly wonderful smells of the city, thousands of local inhabitants, a trashcan fire and being turned away from a nice restaurant due to my exercise attire. From beginning to end this big city “run” was exactly the city experience I needed it to be.