New People

A really nice lady from Poland started running with our club.

As I've been running more on my own/not running, I've only met her once.

Now, twice!

Running with someone new is so interesting. I was running with the Vivacious Redhead, as well, but the dynamic was totally different than if I were to have just been running with the Vivacious Redhead, herself.

Even though the new lady didn't talk that much.

We went a bit faster. We pushed on the hills a bit more. Part of our route was different from what we might have normally done.

Lovely!

Still at a very comfortable speed. I can't imagine we were even doing 8-minute miles.

Sigh.

But fun! Did the same loop that I had done the day before but then came back to Grand Army and ran down to 4th Street and back.

The Vivacious Redhead was so in the zone, I had to yell "I'm not going any further down the side of the park!" before we stopped creeping further and further away from my house.

I wouldn't have minded, previously.

But I had grading looming over me like a hailstorm. And the path we took already had me going 9 miles.

Oops.

Neglected to mention that to my doctor today.

Any tips for making walking palatable? I am banned from running until Monday, at the earliest. Something about my last blood test.......

AAAAAAAG! Walking!

When I was in graduate school, I used to get tired of walking home late at night from class.

Too slow: why walk if you can trot? In fact, why trot if you can jog?

The only jogging I did in my first years of grad school.

So, I used to take my plastic grocery bags and my backpack, tighten up my doc martens, and chug on down the hill towards home.

My roommate thought that added to my bag lady persona.

I replied "I save money on totes and I am less likely to get mugged."

So, walking?! Really?!

Argh

Taking the Time

I've got grading to do.

A LOT of grading to do.

So I decided, on Wednesday, to take the time to do some other things.

Sometimes I'll procrasti-clean.

This time, I procrasti-submitted a paper and I procrasti-ran.

As long as I'm doing something productive, right?

Around the outside of the park again, going up Washington to cut off a bit and home.

Some MAJOR spitting was going on.

The great thing about a cold? You can get some real distance on your sputum. It's due to the large amount of phlegm mixed in.

Quite impressive.

The Cold That Ate My Brain

If the brain-eater came over here, it would die of starvation.

"It's just because you're having allergies. And because you've given up caffeine."

Trying to rationalize away a cold can be funny, in retrospect. But it doesn't work so well.

Desperate for anything, I jumped on the stationary bike at my parents' house.

45 minutes and about 2 calories later, I was still sneezing. But at least I was warmer!

Yesterday, I tried the 'no exercise' approach to a cold.

I had to leave my friend's birthday dinner 45 minutes early because I was disturbing the other patrons. Too much sneezing.

So, this morning, after getting up and then going back to bed, to try to sleep through the throat swelling and nose stopping, I was determined. I would run an outer loop of the park. It would cure me.

I got on my shoes. Put on some extra cold-weather gear - thanks, spring! Strode purposefully outside.

Sneeze. Blow. Sneeze. I felt sick throughout my muscles.

How do you describe that feeling? It's like they are a bit gooey, maybe? Too jello-y? Hard to put into words, unmistakable in the body.

"I'm sure I'll feel better!" I exclaimed in my head.

My head said yes but then reconsidered. I went as far as Prospect Park West and then turned around.

Sigh. 3 miles. Fie this head cold!

Fie!

My, How D.C. Has Changed!

Staying over in D.C. before heading back to Baltimore, I managed a quick 30-minute run in the dark of D.C.

I miss the southern climes. D.C. is basically in the north but the temperature was a good 12 degrees different on this day.

Just what I needed!

(Shakes fist at the sky)

I didn't go far: I had an early morning appointment and it was dark.

I am not the most direction-fabulous person......Did I ever tell you about the time I was running a my friend's apartment in NY (before I moved), where I got lost and also forgot her address? And how I didn't have a phone?

Yes. No repeats, please. Though it's amazing how many cynical New Yorkers will let you borrow their cell phone if you are wearing a lost expression and a "Body by Cheese" t-shirt.

Just through Adams Morgan and a bit north.

It was like a totally different town! Firstly, Adam's Morgan had several empty storefronts: indication that the rents are too high there.

And the parts north, which used to be rather sketchy, looked safe, even in the semi-dark of a D.C. morning!

Wow. I love to see such changes.

Sore Throat Blues

Or, how I ran anyway, with mixed results

Thursday, I had already cancelled with the Vivacious Redhead. The weather was supposed to be awful, my throat felt like it was swollen shut and I was over the cold weather.

But, on second thought.......

I ran a slow outside loop of the park, cutting it short by going up Washington. I liked the hill there.

Well, sort of.

I need more sunshine!!!!!

Weights Two Ways - Or, the 2nd Day of Spring is Much Better than the 1st!

Monday was the first day of spring.

Or, so I told myself as I zipped my parka up over my knee-length cardigan and flipped up the hood against the rain.

The Vivacious Redhead had called. "I know this sounds crazy but could we wait to run until tomorrow?"

Wow. The weather must be really bad!

I pulled my hood closer as the rain turned to sleet.

Fantastic.

Taking advantage of the extra time, though, I actually did my weight routine - or, at least, the weenie version of it.

Using my new magic bouncy ball, I rolled myself down the wall into squats.

And sat on it for balance while I swung weights dangerously near my head as I worked my triceps.

And squinged all over the floor on it - my balance is not so good - while trying to work my abs.

It rested while I did bicep curls.

So my arms were nice and tired for Tuesday morning's run!

This was a weights workout of a different sort.

Dark, windy and warmish met me coming up Eastern Parkway.

A great change from Monday! The 2nd day of spring was far better than the 1st.

Or the 3rd, for that matter, I claim, my eyes resting on the cars' white toupees.

Up towards Grand Army, where I met the Vivacious Redhead.

Without stopping, I picked her up and we ran onwards, towards the bridge. Though I was carrying my backpack, as I was running to work, I felt lighter on my feet. Sometimes I am smart.
Yesterday, I brought all my clothes to my office. All I had to bring, this time, were my books and a water bottle.

Yay for foresight!

I ran with the Vivacious Redhead to the middle of the bridge. Sure, there are still paint fumes galore emanating from the workmen's passageway.
But I sure hope that the Vivacious Redhead stopped for a photo on the way back.
The sun glowing over the Statue of Liberty made it seem like She was a punk rocker.

Bereft of company, I trundled onwards, trying to pick up the pace a bit. I've had some kind of weird infection this week where I feel ok except I'm phlegm-y and my throat has been sore and swollen. Not awsome for breathing.

But, I haven't been picking up the pace that much on my own, as evidenced as to how tired I was after Sunday's run. So, I resolved, I'd pick it up.

Sometimes it's hard to do this without help.

Help arrived, in the form of a yellow-jacketed man.

You see, I passed him pretty easily right at the bottom of the West Side path.

But then, a couple of minutes later, I looked to my side, sweeping over the pink-tinged face of New Jersey.

And a caught a glimpse of yellow right behind me.

I guess he got mad that I passed him, and sped up.

Well, I certainly wasn't going to let him pass me back!

So I sped up some more.

"I must have left him!" I thought.

Then, while I was wiping my nose, I again catch a glimpse of yellow.

The rat fink had caught up again!

Needless to say, I started acting as if the West Side path at 7:00am with a backpack and a cold was a fantastic location and setting for a tempo run.

This lasted all the way up to 32nd street, when I realized he wasn't behind me anymore.

Quite dissappointing! Because my legs were now tired, due to my rash tempo run, and I needed some motivation!

I spied an older man in black up ahead. Ok. I could pass him.

Right as I got up beside him, he sped up.

And said, "I was hoping you'd catch up! How far are you going?"

This real estate agent and I ran until 59th together, where he turned around.

In the meantime, I got an invite to be sponsored for a race, found out more about prices in SoHo, learned about how erudite his girlfriend is, talked about his goal of climbing Mt. Everest and commisserated about divorce.

What a nice man and a nice run!

Plus, once he started talking, he slowed down. So I didn't have to continue my ill-conceived tempo run up the rest of the West Side.

I even took the steepest hill up to work, when I ran back down to 58th.

It's amazing how company and competition can transform a run.

Next question: should I do more weights this morning, or is that too soon? Ideas?

Loon-y!

Hehehehe. I crack myself up.

In honor of this weekend's major crossword tournament in NYC, I will post a bit about Sunday's puzzle.

Theme: Chick Lit

Thus, the humor of the title of this post.

Heh

Yes, you've got it right: it referred to books with birds in the titles.

I'll have to read more of them: I recognized all the titles but I have read maybe half of them. Likely because they are Literature.

And you probably can't buy them in the grocery store or the drug store, my favorite places to pick up a new book.

Who would have thought the puzzle creators for the NYT would be snobby?

Besides the kind of fun theme, there were some good/funny clues in the body of the puzzle.

"Bruited" was used. I love this word! Highly underrated. I suggest that you use it in a sentence today!

35 down: Night light? UFO
88 down: shift's end? Hem
100 down: Pacer's contests Duels

I thought all of these were quite clever, fun and tricky without going over to the dark side, like those on Saturday's are wont to do.

The finals are going on now. The three finalists are working the puzzle on a screen, in front of the audience, with silencing headphones on.

How much fun! Like Family Feud, only better!

I still say that the finals, at least, should be televised.

Hey, they televise poker and puzzling is MUCH more interesting.

Bridges!

So the weather isn't holding. Sigh. But once the weather turns once, I become an eternal optimist.

Which made for a chilly run this morning.

Albeit a beautiful one.

Baseball, Ivy League, Gorgeous and I had all planned to do some part or another of the East Side Bridges run - a run that would take us over the Brooklyn Bridge and back, then over the Manhattan, the Williamsburg and over to Queensboro.

Once I met up with Ivy League, with a surprise Oklahoma added in, that plan had already been scrapped. Baseball wasn't feeling well and Ivy League didn't want to run that far.

Racing down the hill on Union, I got a bit warm. So I took my jacket off.

It's not like we were about to go over a set of bridges, or anything.

And it's not windy in New York.

Optimism at work.

We kept up a nice pace until Court and Union, where I dropped back to run with Baseball and Gorgeous.

I pushed the pace a bit, but not too much, over the Brooklyn Bridge. On the way back, Ivy League and Oklahoma looped back to meet up with us, where Oklahoma and I picked it up the rest of the way back over the bridge.

There, we split, with Ivy League, Oklahoma and me journeying onward to the Manhattan Bridge, after a detour to the courthouse and back.

Surprisingly, I was able to keep up over Manhattan, even though I was feeling a bit off. Likely because Ivy League's foot was bothering him.

If only I weren't so wind-blown! Even my hands were cold, which almost never happens when I'm running.

I have a theory, though. Normally, I am so over-bundled that my hands are a good place to let off excess heat. When I'm dressed like a sane person would dress on a run in 40-degree weather, my hands don't get that extra heat and, so, they freeze.

Brr.

Oklahoma went back over the Manhattan. Ivy League decided to save his foot. I was feeling funny enough that I didn't want to go over the Williamsburg by myself, so I went with him. Did a jog over to the 4 at Brooklyn Bridge, then got off and walked the rest of the way home.

I miss the bridges! I must figure out ways to add them in, even if I have to do shorter runs.

Smiling!

And, perhaps, we will get a chance to do the full bridges run sometime soon, when the weather is even nicer! Suntan, anyone?

Here Comes the Bride!

"Oh, you definitely have to leave Baltimore before 9:00am. Otherwise, you might be late."

I really appreciate getting advice from my mother, whose lateness is legendary. When she arrived at my brother's Awards Banquet for Medical School only an hour and a half late, my brother and I high-fived each other and raised our eyes in amazement.

On the other hand, it would really have galled me to have shown her right!

After all, it was my older brother's wedding day. Ok, civil ceremony day. The big part will be later.

So I got up around 6:00am and ran a quick 30-minute run. I was itching to go longer but was too worried about the time.

Due to the fact it was still dark out when I started, I went uptown, instead of my preferred downtown route. Going downtown, you see more and you start downhill before getting into a series of rollers.

The problem is, you see more. It being the first really nice day and all, I would likely have seen a lot of people out. And they might have seen me.

Sure, no one wants to get mugged. But it would have really burned my onion to have told some sob story to my Baltimore people and get the response, "what the heck were you doing running downtown by yourself in the morning anyway. North Avenue hasn't gotten THAT gentrified!"

But uptown was nice. More chains, especially near Johns Hopkins, but some nice hills on the way out and I got to see how the rich people live around Guilford.

I felt so good that I had to fight with myself about not running more. But I started getting scared about the train.

Off I went to D.C. Where I proceeded to sit around for a while. Quite a while.

At least I wasn't late!

The cutest thing about the wedding - even cuter than the bride crying joyfully or everyone being gathered together - was that my brother was on time.

Yes. It's true. In fact, BOTH my brother AND my mother were on time.

Clearly, a momentous occasion.

And, of course, the wedding was moving, too.

Plus, I got to meet my new sister-in-law's parents and aunt. Lovely!

A Lot of Walking, a Lot of Hills, a Lot of Conversation

I ran my new favorite route on both Thursday and Friday. Thursday, it only involved one hill. That was the last of the few-hill days.

Fresh Pond, the reservoir in Cambridge, has some long, slow hills!

Well, they are hills for a Brooklynite. To others, they might seem like brief inclines, not much more than speed bumps.

But they got me a bit, even with only going 5-7 miles each time.

Then, Saturday, in honor of my little brother's birthday, I set off to his house, quiche in hand.

We were going to have bench and take a hike, you see.

Now, in my head, whatever is in front of me is North, to the right, East, to the left, West.


You get the idea. Less like Magellan, more like Columbus.

He thought he was going to India, after all.

So I compensate. But these tricky electronic maps! They don't always tell the truth on the ground.

Or, maybe I just can't read them. I know my preferred version of the story.

So I got in a nice, almost four-mile hike before the hike.

Warm-up is important.

The hike took several hours, though we didn't go quite four miles. A relaxed pace and jumping boulders in my dress boots were the culprits.

Though I wish I had taken a picture of myself, fording the stream or bouldering in my Fry boots.

"dress boots that can go the distance."

I don't think advertising is my forte.

I didn't get a chance to run again until Wednesday.

Ok, I did get a chance. I preferred to be lazy and sleep, claiming that the few miles I walked were "just the same".

They weren't.

When I went on Wednesday, it was with the Speedy Blonde. We opted for more hills, in Central Park.

"sometimes I don't know why I bother", I complained while we were starting the run. "I mean, it's been forever since I ran, I no longer have a routine, and, now, running slowly is no longer a choice!"

"It doesn't have to be all or nothing. Just because you aren't training for a race, just because you aren't getting faster or aiming for a personal best in something, doesn't mean you can't enjoy running. In fact, having a bad or slow spate makes you enjoy running more when you are having a great string of running! Running two of three times a week, when and how much you feel like, can still be rewarding!"

I made some throw-off comment about it being as good to just use the Exercycle for a half an hour.

But I listened. The Speedy Blonde was calling me out. And she was right.

The thing I hate most about a race is if I feel like I didn't keep going hard when it started to get tough.

"if you're not dry-heaving, you can likely go faster!"

Hyperbole but true during certain parts of the race.

Yet I was whining about something even worse.

My pride is suffering because I can no longer run long and as fast as I used to. It's a drastic change.

And it's really hard for me to not have a goal, a next race on which to focus.

But that's not physical pain. It's not an asthma attack in the middle of a race.

So I shut up and started concentrating on the conversation, the sunny weather, and the fact that we could wear shorts.

And that I got a chance to run, whatever the circumstances.

And I was smiling at the end. I was so happy that I got to run that day.

And, you know what? Gym memberships are expensive!

I even smiled up Harlem Hill!

The smiles continued through the morning.

I met the Vivacious Redhead for a run this morning.

I left the house at 5:55. Not even that early.

And the darkness was warm and inviting.

We even did the outside loop the hard way (clockwise) around Prospect Park, and tacked on an extra mile and two hills before we parted ways and went home.

The sun rising over Brooklyn was fantastic.

And I had plenty of time to mess around before work.

New resolution: getting back to getting up early.
Second new resolution: to try to fit in more hills. I've been bad at hills since I've been living in Brooklyn. Maybe if I add more, I can get a bit better at those.

A girl's gotta have some goals, right?

Trying to be less all-or-nothing......

The Halls of Justice

Are Actually Quite Crowded!


Wednesday came: a day I had been looking forward to since I was a little girl. A day I had planned out in my head thousands of times, down to the last detail of my outfit.

Jury Duty Day!

Two days before, I plotted out how to get there: I didn't want to be late!

The day before, I got myself ready: grading to do, books to read, several pens for filling out forms.

I was set! Would I get on a murder trial? Or a securities fraud case? Or a libel case?

The excitement!

And I'd be surrounded by my fellow citizens, sharing in this momentous occasion.

That proved to be more of a liability than I thought.

I arrived at 8:21am, well in time for the 8:30am start.

Except, as I found out, it didn't really start at 8:30am. It started more like at 9:00am or 9:30am.

Because most people are tardy. Especially when it comes to Jury Duty.

Weirdly, most people apparently don't look forward to it as much as I did.

After the silly movie, after the forms, after the man who clearly states these directions every single day of his life stated the directions, I waited to be called.

And tried to grade. It was hard, with others talking.

But, on the plus side, I was Busy. Therefore, people were less likely to engage me in a one-sided diatribe about what they were missing today and why their back/leg/ankle hurt so much.

I tend to attract the motormouths and crazies. Something in the eyes, I think.

Then, my name was finally called! Into a room!

I didn't know this at the time but this was a good thing. I might have sat, waiting, all day, waiting in vain.

Others, who knew what the room meant, started grumbling.

"Oh no. We're getting picked for a trial."

Oh no?! Oh yes! How exciting!!!!!!!!!

We wait around for the lawyers. I try to sneak some more grading in, though I had been told to close my laptop.

Well, no one was speaking to us, so why waste the time?

As I filled out the form, my stomach started flipping over. It was clear that it was a form not dissimilar to that you might fill out at the doctor's office: the more you have to write, and the more you have to check off, the worse your prognosis likely is.

And some of my answers filled all the lines!

Enter the lawyers. One man immediately got excused because he knew one of the defense attorneys.

I didn't know anyone. So far, so good.

Even better! My name gets pulled as one of the first six! That means that I am first in line to get on the jury! Hello, halls of justice!

Some observations. First, the prosecuter/plaintiff's attorney in the case was kind of an idiot. She was trying to be all pal-sy with us and it came off as really fake.
Plus, she talked waaaaaaaay too much and overexplained everything.

And, it was a really small room. And each attorney stood up while he or she was speaking.

I'm sorry, but you don't wear pants that tight if you are going to be in a small room standing up. It was distracting. In a bad way.

I kept imagining a seam splitting.

We were being considered for a civil case - a car accident, pain and suffering case.

It had a technical name but I've already forgotten what that was.

It's funny how each side, even though the case hadn't officially started yet, used pyschological tricks and irrational forms of persuasion to try to get people to subconsiously take one side or another, all while intoning about how important it was for us not to decide anything until all the evidence had been heard.

Things like, "You'll have to decide how much damages my client ought to get."

Not, "If she/he deserves damages,........"

And so on.

Finally, the plaintiff's attorney started asking us a lot of questions.

She was especially interested in asking me and one other potential juror questions.

I think she was trying to get me to admit bias.

At one point, when she asked me the same question a different way yet again, basically as to whether I could possibly keep an open mind, given my family's background, I quipped:

"I do teach logic, after all. That's one of the first things I teach my students - not to assume anything outside of the evidence/facts at hand."

I don't think she liked that comment.

The defense attorneys perked up, however. One wrote a note right after I said that.

I think the attorneys were fighting with each other, too. We kept getting excused so that they could go talk to the judge.

It was during these periods, where we were waiting for the lawyers to return, that I had most of my enduring questions about my intelligence answered.

I listened to other people talk around me, trying to block them out but being only semi-successful, in a room full of random people, picked at random on purpose, as part of the system of justice.

I do lots of stupid things. Sure, I have scored in the (low) 99th percentile on standarized tests but that could have been luck. Or something.

And I do a lot of stupid things. Which has lead me to ask, on many occasions, "Why should I think I'm any smarter than much of the population?"

The argumentative fallacies, and general poor reasoning, I heard during these breaks put a rest to most questions such as these.

Wow.

I might still be socially awkward, impulsive, compulsive and prone to rash decisions that I rue afterwards, as well as the occasional awkwardness of the 'I spontaniously fell down' variety.

But at least I know that, just because your sister got hit by a cab and was injured, that doesn't mean that all cabbies are irresponsible and dangerous.

Simple logic, folks!

Back to the questioning room.......

When it was the defense attorney's turns, finally, they only talked to four of the six potential jurors. It was clear that two had already been written off.

They had written themselves off, in fact. By how they acted and answered prior questions.

The defense attorneys seemed to really like me.

At the end, the plaintiff's attorney asked me and one other man two last questions.

She tried to get me to admit bias again. I didn't.

In fact, I didn't volunteer much information during any of this. I figure, I should just wait until I was directly asked.

Interesting, how many people would volunteer all sorts of information about themselves and their families, with little to no prompting!

Maybe that's what the lawyers wanted......
Because, after a quick conference, I got immediately dismissed.

Sigh. It would have been so interesting!

And now I have to wait another 8 years.

Maybe I can volunteer? Or does that automatically disqualify a person?

My dream has yet to be fulfilled.

All I want is to be a juror!

Things Nerds Think About

A common occurance:

Waking up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep because I had a thought pop into my head - what's the difference between 'talk to' and 'speak with'?

Breaking off in the middle of conversation to ask, "Really! What's the difference between damp, moist and wet or humid."

These sorts of questions consume me. And I'll research the answers. A lot.

Then still obsess, when sending off an email:

"Ok, was it nice to speak with them? or, was it nice to talk to them?"

Any other words people obsess over? I've got a whole list!

Ow!

You know, you have to remember your own limits.

And keep current on what those limits are!

Thus, why people shouldn't claim they can 'run a 19-minute 5k' if that PR was gotten, say, 5 years ago.

Or say that they run all the time if they used to but haven't done so for several months.

I think I might have fallen prey to that last conceit.

I used to run all the time.

But 3 plus months of running 22-40 miles a week makes it so that I no longer qualify.

But I still haven't put paid to that conceit.

So I think it will be fine to run to work (again) with a heavy backpack.

Ok. It was fine.

But I meant 'fine' in the sense that I would have a great run the whole time.

And that I wouldn't get ouchy 8 miles in.

Because, like the woman who has changed sizes but doesn't quite accept it, always pulling out the size six and wondering why it doesn't fit, I've changed running patterns.

Significantly.

So a 10.3 or so mile run has become one of the longest runs that I do.

Instead of a nice, medium-length, middle-of-the-week jaunt.

If it were still a jaunt, my backpack wouldn't be too bad.

But, in fact, my legs got really tired today on that run.

They were fine and then, boom, around mile 8, they revolted a bit.

I kept running, anyway: I haven't changed that much, yet.

But I definitely got slower.

At least I'm still running, though!

Even if I can no longer claim that 'I run all the time'.

By the way, where are those larger clothes? I'll take (almost) all donations!

Hopefully, I'll just need lighter clothes. I'm confident that this weather is turning for the better, but soon!

Trying to Get a New Routine

Thursday, I went off with the Vivacious Redhead to the cemetery!

That was actually quite exciting. They don't plow much there.

Symbolic that, perhaps, we might have escaped the worst of the winter.

Here's hoping.

Didn't run FOR THE REST OF THE WEEKEND!

Partly planned, partly unplanned.

Anyone have running clothes in the larger sizes? I take donations. And will likely need them until I can get back to my old routine!

Yesterday, wind and cold battled with my will. My will won. I went running between grading papers.

Central Park was beautiful. And windy! On the East Side of the park, I was sweating and wishing I hadn't worn my jacket.

When I got to the West Side, though, I was really glad for that jacket. Brrrrrr!

Best recent purchase I've made, that PPTC jacket. Oh, and those awesome pair of Campers I got this weekend!

Shopping instead of running. Weird.

Felt pretty strong in the park yesterday. We will see if that keeps up.

The cold has returned with a vengeance, alas.

Really, NYT?!

The theme for Wednesday's crossword was pretty funny.....at least if you like puns.

And who doesn't?

Well, I think these are considered puns, anyway. Correct me if I am wrong.


My absolute favorite, though not in the best of taste:


Clue: tagline for the Titanic?

Answer: Icy Dead People



Hehehehe

Then I felt bad about laughing.

Sigh.

Wind, B*****s, Stop Your D*** Blowing!

Or, What I Heard a Strange Man Say While I was Waiting for Oklahoma.

To be fair to this strange man, the wind, on 26th especially, was so strong that I could, and did, do the classic mime pose 'man running in the wind'.

Except I wasn't actually trying to do the pose.

I was on 26th in the first place waiting for Oklahoma, so that I might have some company on my run home.

When I started the run, the temperatures had already dropped. By the time I got to 26th, it was more like 30 and less like 50.

And the uber-weenie was dressed in warm-up pants and a long-sleeved shirt.

"I won't need that wind-stopping motorcycle thermal I often wear," I thought while getting dressed in my nice toasty office, having felt the warm, breeze-free day when walking between buildings earlier.

"I'd just be too hot."

I thought about that decision as I arrived at 26th to wait.

Did I mention that I was 19 minutes early?

Brilliant.

About five minutes of huddling later, I started jogging down to Chelsea Piers and back, just to keep warm.

Thank goodness my home isn't on the Upper West Side! The cross-wind was even worse on the way uptown!

With more time to kill, I crossed the street to 26th and started walking down it. That's when I encountered the strange man.

"Funny," a very good-looking man walking in front of me said. "I'm rather enjoying this."

Tongue-tied and shivering, I nodded. He was wearing a lined jacket.

I contemplatedcwalking faster to talk more with this intriguing gentleman.

I was early, after all, with some time to kill.

Then I re-evaluated. My hair was blowing over my face, I was wearing blue and red oddly-matched running clothes and I wasn't wearing my glasses.

One time, when I was looking for my brother and his friend, after they hadn't come home when they were supposed to, I mistook two mailboxes for them.

That was in high school. My vision has gotten worse.

Likely not worth it. I let him out of my "sights".

Then, back to the West Side. Finally, it is near time.

No Oklahoma. Did he say the East Side instead? Ack!

Ah. There he was. A vision in sweatpants, long-sleeved shirt and bright orange gloves.

Off we went.

Besides some tourist-baiting on the bridge (I've been in approximately 1300 tourist's photos, by my estimation), the rest of the run was quite fun. We kept a really easy pace, due to my backpack and out-of-shapeness and his still aching, albeit mending, broken ribs.

Ok. The hill on Union was a bit tough.

After leaving Oklahoma at the park, I continued to my stomping grounds, where I got a quick bite to eat.

By the time I was done, it was so cold that I actually took a car home.

For five blocks.

Brrrrrrrr.

New York is, by far, the windy-est place I've ever lived!

At 6's and 7's

I love that phrase.

And it seems to capture me perfectly right now.

Better, too, to be at sixes and sevens than to be as crazy as a polecat with no whiskers.

Another of my grandmother's phrases.

Things that have defined me, seemingly being left behind.

Change. Something with which I struggle. Mightily.

And having had terrible weather in Boston, preventing me from running.

Though yesterday I was getting stir crazy enough to think about attempting freezing rain over wet snow on brick sidewalks.

Thankfully, I thought again. Given my clutziness, I likely would have come down with a broken ankle!

Today, though, the outside of the park, with the sun and the warmer weather, and the mind-numbing usuality of the run, fit my mood really well.

Glad I got out at all!

My hamstrings were feeling looser after the first mile and a half and, for most of the park, I just picked it up in places and tried to expand my lungs, which are definitely getting weaker with no speed to speak of.

Then, on the last hill on Flatbush and continuing back to my house, I took a page from Ivy League and sped it up.

Ok. Not as much as he would have. But I'm trying to attempt things that are hard for me to do.

Like speeding up at the end of a run, when I've had a set slower pace for most of it.

Like change.

Enjoy the sun, everyone!