The husband tapped me on the shoulder and gently let me know it was 6:30 am.
“Shit!” I lept out of bed.
“I’m supposed to be at 59th street at seven!
I pulled on my running clothes and grabbed a hat and water belt. I pulled my cell phone out of the charger and dug my credit card and subway card out of my purse. I wasted five precious minutes looking for the belt that holds my phone before jamming it into the too small pocket on the water belt and I was out the door.
But the gods were with me. The designated meeting time was on the A line and I didn’t have to wait long for a train. And, as it happened the smiting time was really 7:15 for a 7:30 run. A six mile loop in Central Park.
I bought 2 bananas a cup of coffee from the stand and made some of the other runners laugh when I loaded the banana’s pistol style into the elastic bands of my water belt. The Galloway runners are not elite. We run slowly and we carry luggage. I don’t look anything like that skinny woman who passed us nearly naked in her matching lululemon bra and shorts. I’m running the New York Marathon because I’m turning 50 in November. No matter how much I work out, I can never look like that. We have to be inspired by something else. Today’s running partner has done two New York Marathons and is going again this year. She said,
“You will be so inspired by all the people in the race. When you see a man in a wheelchair pushing himself backwards the entire route you will know you have to finish.”
There was a bike race this morning, a blur of circles and lines and helmets.
We passed the mile long line of readers and talkers camped out and hoping for one of the free tickets to today’s closing night Shakespeare in the Park production of of As You Like It. Years ago I waited in that line with my daughter in her stroller. We hadn’t lived in the city long and I didn’t have anything better to do with my day. I scored a ticket at the last minute and The Husband arrived to take way the toddler who cried,
“I want to see the pup-eeettt show!”