All Quiet On The Blogging Front

Got back on Monday from a weekend spent in Dallas with my brother/sister-in-law + 4 kids. I decided something as I watched my 2 year old goddaughter literally shake with excitement as she approached the present-engulfed tree. I want to spend as many Christmases as possible around kids. It throws a whole different light on the affair, making it so much more meaningful and fun.

I managed a run every day while there, including the obligatory Christmas morning run. The house was completely silent and still at 6:30am when I woke, so I thought it safe to head out the door to their local highschool track. I had to cut it short after only 2 miles when I got the call that the kids were up. I veered across lanes and took a sprint shortcut back, eager not to miss a moment of the gift unwrapping.

Owing to my very poor internal compass I ran an unexpected 8 miles on Monday before flying back to the big city. I haven't managed to hit the roads since, unfortunately. What with that and my swimming pool being closed for its annual cleaning, on top of the vast quantities of chocolate I've been eating lately, I feel like a giant, lazy, bloated pig right now.

Oh well, I might as well plan - along with the rest of humanity - to get a fresh start come January 1st.

Battle of the Transport Modes

While the folks around me complained of 2, 3, even 4-hour commutes into Manhattan these past three days, I had the opposite experience with some of my fastest trips ever.

After the one horrendous day working at home, I decided Wednesday to get my ass into the office. I slung my laptop over my shoulder and biked in. Stupid me, I did not pay attention to the news that 5th was closed to vehicles. So instead of scooting down that Avenue to the Flat Iron district, I risked my life down smog-choked, gridlocked Lexington. 55 minutes.

That night I locked my bike in the office and ran home. This time I was wise to the empty emergency lane on Madison and bolted home in 42 minutes.

The best commute by far was Thursday morning, when I actually did make use of the 5th Avenue emergency lane . I felt on top form and simply flew to work. 39 minutes. As Dianna from my club just commented, she was simultaneously biking into work, and the two of us were neck-in-neck the entire way (thanks Dianna - that made it even more fun!) I was moving pretty fast, it's true, but I think her inability to get ahead of me is that bikes are way less manoeverable than people on city roads. Hurrah for running :o)

And one last bike home up Madison last night rounded off my strike-commuting. This trip was definitely the most dangerous of them all. The 7 billion confused policemen that lined the emergency lane seemed unable to decided whether us cyclists should be using it or not; some of them kept forcing us out of it into traffic. I expected at any moment to be sandwiched between a lorry and a taxi, or thrown 50 feet across lanes by a bus, but somehow I got home unscathed. 50 minutes.

Why the hell did the powers-that-be open most of 5th Ave back up to regular traffic yesterday? It's such backward logic! Soooooooo stupid! Shouldn't the main message throughout this entire strike have been: if at all possible, do not, DO NOT take a car into Manhattan. If you able- bodied and under 100 years of age, please, please, please use your own two feet (or small, wheeled non-motorized contraptions) to transport yourself to where you need to be. Why was their main concern easing congestion for car drivers and hence reducing the available space for the fit, sensible and enviro-friendly runners, walkers, cyclists, roller-bladers etc. among us? Why make it much more dangerous and difficult for those of us who are trying to do the city a favour? I seriously don't get it.

And what excuse did most people have for taking a car into Manhattan anyway? What possesses people to put up with a 3 hour car ride, when they could have gotten to their destination via a 1-hour walk? I know there must probably be a couple of good reasons, but honestly - not that many.

I was a little bemused by the presence of Red Cross vans at either ends of the 59th Bridge during the strike. I mean, it's considerate of them and all, but a little frightening that there should exist the worry that commuters may drop dead as a result of 1.4 mile saunter over the east river. I really hope this strike was a wake-up call for at least a handful of people who struggled. Perhaps they should start considering doing a little regular e-x-e-r-c-i-s-e.

Anyway, it's over now, and we can all breathe a huge sigh of relief that this great city can get back to the way it's meant to be, and not like every other huge metropolis out there in the US that has no mass transit (how on earth do people cope with that every day?!). But the end came just as I was starting to garner immense satisfaction at being able to move faster around New York than 8 million others (did I mention I'm competitive?)

New Yorkers, if you're harbouring any residual resentment about this strike, click here. Be warned: do not play this at work, or around children. Thanks to Jaime for the laugh.

No End to the NYC Drama

Man, I pity the next MTA employee I lay eyes on.

I should have run to work and back today, but my company insisted we take our laptops home last night so none of us would risk sitting alone in the building. I've just experienced one of the more frustrating work days of my life; fighting with home technology, as well as trying to coordinate the completion of fairly complex work with a dispersed team. Oh, and I really resent using my cell phone for hour- long conference calls with clients...

Those folks should try living in the real world for a change, where we work 12 hour days for no O/T, and have no job security whatsoever. And what's this crap about retiring at age 55? The rest of us will be working till we're 105 to support them...

Anyhoo, I'm just jealous and cranky. My desk at home is not ergonomically suited for 10 hours of work stress, and I have a literal, and excruciating pain in my neck.

Dare I try to decompress with a run through the crowds?

Gratifying weekend

The Hellgate girls ended the race year with a bang Saturday, coming in first at NYRR's Hot Chocolate 15K.

That makes about 3 or 4 team wins for Hellgate in 2005 - not bad for the little Queens club that could. It was wonderful to catch up the crew after my long absence, and all the more enjoyable for it to be under such circumstances.

Much like every short race since Chicago, I did not feel great as I circled Central Park, imagining myself as slow and out of shape as 2 years ago. In the end however, it turns out my unimpressive time qualifies as a PR, though my half-marathon PR pace remains faster. I also placed 34/602 in my age group, which I suppose, if I think about it, aint too shabby. I swear it took 2 miles before my legs 'defrosted.' As recently mentioned, I love running in the cold, but I don't like standing around in it for a long time before getting started. I reckon the trick is to bolt right out the door before your body has a chance to recognize mercury's nose-dive.

Derek Rose, of Runorama Rundown and blogging fame, recognized me at the finish line and we had a brief chat. It turns out we must have been running very near each other the whole way. Derek is the first fellow blogger I've met since starting on this lark. I hope to meet many more in 2006 =)

Beer, Guns and Men

I thank you Just12Finish for tagging me. Sort of.

Write 5 random facts about yourself, and then list the names of 5 people whom you in turn infect. Also, leave a post to these people letting them know they have been infected.

I shall only do the bolded instruction, as I'm a coward and fearful of annoying folks:

1. When I was 17 and in my first year of university (of Edinburgh, Scotland) many, many moons ago, I could swallow a pint (that's a proper British pint - 20, not 16 ounces) of beer (that's real ale, not the watered down nonsense you get over here) in 3 seconds. That's right, THREE seconds. I have many witnesses.
2. When I was 18 and still in my first year of university I ballooned to about 140lbs. (hmm, you think that had something to do with the activity just mentioned?)
3. After ballooning to said weight, and in the summer between 1st and 2nd year, I went to India for 3 months with my good friend Arnie. Not one morsel of food nor one drop of alcohol passed my lips while I was there (only a slight exaggeration), hence my weight dropped right back down to about 115lbs. I have never been so skinny since - not even in the height of my marathon training.
4. After returning from India, I joined the Officer Training Corps (British TA essentially) for the duration of my 2nd year at university. I learned to assemble and fire a loaded gun, mountain climb, abseil, and drive a camouflaged speedboat to name but a few things. And I got paid to do so!
5. When I was 19 in the summer between my 2nd and 3rd years of university, I traveled all around Europe by train with my close friend Dr. Sharon. It was across a table in a common room in a youth hostel in Vienna that I first laid eyes on my husband-to-be. My very first thought upon seeing him was, "he is the best looking man I have ever seen in my entire life." That's not a word of a lie.

Ups & Downs

Ok, I will allow my mini life crisis to continue playing in the background while I try to carry on as normal. This involved a much-needed and old favourite run of mine tonight - a 7.6 mile route home from the office via the Williamsburgh Bridge and up through Brooklyn to Queens. It was 8pm when I finally left the office, and 17F out. May I just say this constitutes a 60 - yes, SIXty-degree plummet in temperature from that of my run on Venice Beach, CA just 3 days ago. Being from a small and relatively uniform (climate-wise) island, the extremes of this one gigantic country never cease to astound me.

Unlike many folks however, I must admit to loving these conditions. It's taken me a couple of horrendous NY summers of training to feel this way, but I really do appreciate the cold. I think I run much more freely in sub-zero temps. It's all about dressing right. While training for Boston last winter I developed the ideal winter-wear for sub-20F running (see right). Not in the least bit flattering, but it gets the job done. Sure, my skin was red, blotchy and itchy for hours after I returned safely home, and my nose and chin still have not regained normal feeling, but hey...these things wont kill me.

I very much enjoyed the run, and was pleased to discover that I probably haven't lost the fitness I'd convinced myself I had, what with the sporadic nature of my "training" recently.

So my day ended on a much brighter note than it started, especially since I returned to home to this (see left) in the mail. Heck, perhaps I'm even re-inspired enough to start contemplating a spring marathon.

Dallas? New Jersey?

Or do I have to do the previously unthinkable, and seriously consider a return to Boston?

We interrupt this program…

Having a bit of a life crisis. I will be back when the fog has cleared and I've got something worth writing about...

Miserable Sod

I fly to LA tomorrow for my company's Christmas party. It's nice of them to pay for me to go and all, but I'm so effing miserable about it and everything else right now. While away, I will be missing: a dinner with friends, two parties, my Hellgate Road Runner club's annual elections, the Joe Kleinerman 10K (my favourite distance after the marathon - and there are hardly any 10Ks in the New York area all year,) and a specially arranged New York bloggers brunch, to name but a few things. I'm also missing out on more quality time with my hubby after not seeing him for the whole fortnight I was in Britain.

It's not even as if this is a swanky Christmas party, like last year's apparently was (even Sharon Stone turned up!) No, no, as soon as I'm involved of course, the powers-that-be decide that money is tight and organize a 'show up in jeans for a few drinks in the office' evening.

To compound my misery, it feels like I have barely been running at all recently. I guess I'll pack my sneakers and try a couple of exploratory routes if I can find the time. On my last trip there in January I attempted to run to Rodeo Drive from my Hollywood hotel, but somehow managed to bypass it (is it really short?) I'll try that again. Hey - at least one silver lining of my untimely wrench away from home is the alleged 70F temperature on the other coast. It has turned absolutely freakin' Baltic here in NYC.

Good luck to all racing this weekend - especially Chelle in her Central Park bid for a sub-40 =)

A Surprise New York Welcome

Well, I'm home again after my fabby two weeks in the old country. I spent the final couple of days in London catching up with my good friend Arnie, who now lives with her hubby in the terrifically central area of Borough, just south of the London Bridge (Bridget Jones' Diary setting...) I was so bummed that I had abandoned my mud-caked sneakers in Aberdeen, when I discovered what a fantastic running city London is. I would have taken great pleasure from exploring the Thames, the bridges and parks and sights via a long run. Oh well, it can wait till I run the London Marathon, which I now am 100% determined to enter at some point over the next few years.
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I answered my apartment door this morning to a very stressed and frightened-looking building superintendent. She asked for my husband. When I said he had already left for work she informed me that there was "either a manikin or a body" in our floor's trash chute room. Assuming she must be delirious, I immediately stepped the 2 feet across the corridor to the tiny room and opened the door. The light bulb had gone out so it was pitch dark inside. Not so dark however that I couldn't make out the shape of a man crumpled on the floor. As I stared in disbelief his hand twitched causing us to scream and run back to lock ourselves in my apartment. Unsure whether he was a murderer, a murder victim or what...we phoned the police. Turned out someone on our floor already had however, as our entire building was soon swarming with cops and firefighters and EMTs, all convinced they had a dead body on their hands. Fortunately for everyone involved, it transpired that the man was simply a homeless guy who had undoutedly wandered into our unsecure building looking for some warmth. Way to give us all a heart attack though!

Ah, the dramas of living in NYC. Never a dull moment.