There’s something about running in the pre-dawn of New York City. Right around the time when the people around are not ones to be feared - bleary eyed and clutching a small cup of coffee from the carts.
Left-right left-right pounding the pavement still hot from the sun the day before. It is in that rare quiet where thoughts can shake free from the multicolored distractors of 3rd Avenue, the inherent delight of Time's square or the neon colored signs of ktown. The city is a symphony of lights.
Fewer sirens disturb the fragile moments captured between the techno blasting in my earbuds and the sound of heavy breathing. I still like to have myself tied to the mast while my rowers stuff their ears with wax and I listen to their sweet song.
Taxi horns sit silenced as drivers steal a few moment’s peace, preparing mentally for a day full of stop and go's.
And I rush past them all. The East River rises on my approach my feet carry me further from the haze of Midtown, down uneven paths sprinkled with the occasional tree or patch of grass. Oh and a rat. A rat ran past me, about five inches away from my foot. And I squealed a little.
Sure, there are moments where I long for the open green of just about anywhere else, trying to escape the concrete and steel hemming me in. When the idea of wide open spaces is defined beyond the 1000 square feet limit. But it in such moments as this, the Brooklyn Bridge looming ahead of me, or even as I stand jostled for space on a rush-hour 6 train, that I realize what people talk about when they mention the magic of the city.
You get an insiders look into the guts, (the trash), the people.
And then you've run for an hour, have no idea where you are and start seeing avenues you didn't know existed (and are not convinced they do).
Run past places you know you need to try and find gardens that make no sense - stuck between two walk ups and behind a van that looks like it belongs in the 80s. Or a regularly sitting man who seems to be completely enthralled with the idea of braiding his own hair every day. And the basketball courts with weekend tournaments that make JV feel like you are running out under the spotlight at the barclay's.
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