So. The plan was as follows:
Leave the apartment at 6:30.
Run to NYRR race in Prospect Park (approximately 8 miles).
Pick up Claire and run back to apartment.
The plan started off well. A little rough start as I haven’t been out the door this early since last fall, I left at around 6:40. The weather was calling for wind gusts up to 50 mph. As I made my way to the East River, I saw that the water was as still as a lake. Wind? Pfft. Hardly.
After my first mile I felt some residual acidity from my IBS flare up on Thursday night/Friday morning. I slowed it down. No need to go balls out on a long training run. As I got down the Manhattan bridge, the wind was picking up and I noticed how choppy the water was. Quite different when I started. I also looked down at my watch and thought I would have plenty of time to make it. I had 45 minutes left as I saw the Brooklyn Bridge.
Over the bridge and through the streets to Prospect Park we go… …and then I started to get lost.
‘Is this the correct direction? …Where is Atlantic Avenue? …Why does everything look so much closer on Google maps?’
Then I saw it—a large clock on Flatbush Avenue telling me it was 8:00 and I hadn’t even reached Prospect Park. I looked at my Garmin. 8 miles. Well, balls. There goes that idea.
That was the text message I sent Claire. I then called her as I realized that I wasn’t as lost as I thought, just at the beginning of Grand Army Plaza. I knew I would be late to the race start, and I felt pretty solid in my pace at that point. So she met me and we ran the perimeter of Prospect Park.
We stopped at an aid station which we will dub “Claire’s Apt.,” and were on our way back to Manhattan. We caught up on life, speaking loudly (we may as well have been shouting) to each other, and we bumped into Robin (another reason why I love New York City). She was heading to Prospect Park to meet up with her coach to do a bit of long distance running herself.
Off we went and back to the Brooklyn Bridge.
“WHY ARE THERE ALWAYS TWO UPHILL SECTIONS OF THIS THREE SECTION BRIDGE?,” Claire demanded.
I don’t know, but miraculously I still felt decent. We head back down to the East River path talking about normal things: boyfriends, cats, food,
poop, jobs, etc. Before I knew it I had hit 17 miles all while maintaining a decent pace and very similar splits.
After I hit 18.5 we slowed and came to a walk. A delightful walk down the East River Path and back to my apartment. Post run funtivities: Bagels from Vic’s, coffee, and good conversation. And lots of water. Oh, and Astor.
Although the race didn’t happen and I may as well have put my $18 registration fee in the toilet, today was a solid training day. And I’m happy with it.
Many thanks to Claire for tackling those remaining miles with me. And also helping me clean my cat when he failboats too.