Sunday Morning reflective mood has me thinking about “the dress” I've planned to wear for New Year's Eve, and how I hope it will still fit by the time the holidays roll around. I tried it on the other day, and phew! I was in. But this got me thinking...
When I lived in NYC, running was routine feature of my life. I didn’t go fast and I didn’t go far, but at least I went. I lived less than 5 minutes from Washington Square Park, and each day, come rain or shine, began with a daily gallop.
The distance around Washington Square Park is .53 mile. At my best, I was doing 3-4 miles before breakfast at least 3 days a week. I loved that gallop, though I hated dodging traffic, inhaling limitless exhaust fumes, and the general lack of spatial awareness amongst NYC pedestrians.
I cannot describe the feeling of sheer exhilaration each time I whizzed (or wheezed) past the Washington Arch. It always felt like I was seeing it for the very first time. I miss that Arch.
“Superstar Writer Friend” (author of Professors' Wives' Club) is working on a new book called Crossing Washington Square. Seeing the Arch on her webpage nearly made me weep. I miss that Park, it inspired me and challenged me.
I don’t know why I find it so hard to get motivated to run here. I live in one of the most idyllic spots on God’s green earth, and yet I just can’t be bothered. A recent survey in the UK showed that twenty-one (21%) percent of British women who do not take any form of exercise during the week; and yet fifty (50%) percent of British women are either “very happy” or “fairly happy” with their bodies. I’m in danger of becoming a very British statistic.