Sunday, July 1, 2012

NYC Runs, and So Do I

On Saturday, the hottest day in the history of the universe, I ran a 5 mile race at Coney Island.  The entirety of the race was on the boardwalk, which is exciting, because you never know when you're going to crash through the boards, or one will pop up and clock you, mid-stride.  It is also completely unshaded, so all five miles were run in the blazing sun.  And then there was the reflection of the water. Tyson said it best when he said it was like running inside a crystal.

We finished inside the Cyclone's stadium, and there I am, pictured above.  I'm not the lady in the pink shirt, but the one barely captured on the left of the photo.  That's me pushing toward the finish line.  I have a strict rule about not sprinting until I can see the finish line with my own eyeballs.  I developed this rule during another miserably hot run in Central Park.  In that race, as in this one, I got to the point where I poured water directly on my head.  Like an Olympian.  I don't usually do that, because I don't feel like I can pull it off, because, you know, I'm not an Olympian.  But, sometimes, like yesterday, I might as well be.

Then, after the race, we got lost, twice, on the way to Rockaway Taco.  It took, oh, like an hour and a half.  And it was totally, totally worth it.

Thanks for the weekend, Brooklyn.

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