Is there a penalty for waxing nostalgic about a run that was only four days ago? But yet, I remember fondly the gentle company, stoic hills, and 7pm daylight of my April 3rd workout.
EN met me at work on Thursday, and we ran up to Central Park together for a 4-mile loop. Since it’s about a mile from my office to the 72nd Street Transverse, we ended up with a gorgeous six-mile run through our old Team in Training stomping grounds. Once a week through the park is just enough for me to appreciate what it has to offer, without resenting the triple-threat of hills on the West side, or the stink of manure along the southern loop. As we were heading east across the 72nd Street Transverse, we could glimpse a gorgeous apartment building through the new leaves that dappled the twilit sky. The structure seemed to emanate its own amber glow, and was surely a fine specimin of whatever era of Old New York in which it was built. It was so scenic, it was easier to believe we were the (sweaty, poorly dressed) extras in a movie, jogging lightly through the scene where John Cusack or Topher Grace leads Kate Winslet or Jennifer Garner over to a bench for “the talk” than to believe we were in real life, running through a park we’re as likely to complain about as we are to take it for granted.
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