The Subway Made Me Do It!

I am not the most patient of people.

And, did I mention, I hate the cold?

This morning started auspiciously. Sun shining, in that way where, while still half-asleep, you mistake January for June.

Ran out to meet Gorgeous at a civilized hour: didn't have to meet her until 9:00am.

Ran a relaxing loop of the park. My calf didn't hurt and I wasn't as tired as I've been on runs recently.

Plus, the company and conversation made the loop go quickly.

And, affirmation!

"Did you notice", I remarked to Gorgeous at the end of the loop, before heading to coffee, "that even though we were going slowly, we were still passing people? Doesn't that make you realize how far you've come?"

Ok. More of a self-affirmation. She didn't really understand what I was talking about.

Not all of us were track stars! Heh.

After coffee, my newly-resolved moderate self shivered her way to the Grand Army Subway station.

Sure, I could run back. And it would likely take the same time as the subway.

But I had run almost 5 miles. With the longer-than-allowed run yesterday, and knowing I'd likely violate orders tomorrow with an intense run with Superman, I resolved to wait.

Patience.

Then I saw the sign. "No Brooklyn-bound trains this stop. For Brooklyn Service, take the 2,3,or 4 to Atlantic and transfer to a Brooklyn-bound train."

Argh! I had been away long enough that I forgot about the weekend service issues on the 2 and 3!

I had to talk myself down from the ledge, figuratively speaking.

"No. Wait here. Sure it will take longer but think how cold it is! You only have to wait 7 minutes for the next Manhattan-bound train. Plus, you promised!"

As I stood there with my shoulders in my ears, trying to keep warm, the cold factor was weighing against waiting. Plus, it would now take much longer for me to get home than if I were running.

But I held firm.

Patience.

Got to Atlantic. Figured out the Brooklyn-bound track. Waited for the train. Only 3 minutes this time.

It was a 4. I'd have to transfer again at Franklin.

"Just get on this train. It will be warmer. You can do it! Just wait. Why rush?"

The pep talk was getting less and less effective. It had now taken me almost half an hour to get to a point 10 minutes away, running-wise.

Standing in Franklin station, I was now convulsively shivering.

I squinted up at the sign. Brooklyn-bound 3: 9 minutes. Brooklyn-bound 2:7 minutes.

And this is a wide-open station. The wind from Eastern Parkway gusts through the tunnels, gaining force from the swoop underground.

Patience.

ACTUALLY, FORGET PATIENCE!

Spinning around, I walked briskly over to the exit and started a trundle home. A total of about 40 minutes to get to my house, a mile and a half from where I started. Sheesh.

There went the resolution about the run today. I went more like 5 1/2 or so.

The train made me do it!

At least the calf still feels good. I'm tired, though.

Re-evaluate tomorrow's run? Maybe.

But I've also got a lot of work to productively put off.

Speaking of, on to the crossword.

Patience. Overrated?