That was a close one. Last night was late one, again, and the power was out in the apartment. Max is three and gets up early and he is a delightful, lively boy who wakes me up. I have kids, this is not alien to me. But the circumstances are different, I am camping in the living room, it's hot, there is little escape. And I was very, very tired.
Josh called at 7.30 to announce their train finally arrived in Park Slope at 2.30 AM. They would not be joining us for an 8 am run. Seriously? That's a shame. Now excuse me, I think I need to vomit because I have migraine coming on.
Pain relievers, a shot of coffee, a dark room, and more sleep. I woke an hour and a half later later feeling better, with plans in my head to hit the art museum. There was no way, in spite of my desire, to go running on this, opening day.
Only Harris was at that moment heading out. To run. Wait! I joined him.
Distance: 3.4 miles
Central Park. A lot of people out at 9.30 AM, running, biking, walking. Lots of shade, it is humid, to be sure. Huge storm last night, lots of large branches and even whole trees knocked down. Incredible. But it is a bright sunny day, and I got my run in. NOW, I am headed to the museum.
We have been here for only a little over half our stay. And yet, it hasn't happened yet. I feel confident in my success ... in handing out postcards. Now I actually have to perform. Oh. That's right. THAT'S why I am here.