November arrived about fifteen days late. Huffing and puffing around Central Park on Friday with a scattering of runners and fewer cyclists, I thought about the unusually warm weather of the past two weeks and pulled my hands up into my sleeves. The baseball hat I had on seemed suddenly to be a really bad idea. The idea of the day was to make one entire circuit of the park which is about six miles. There is a 10K on December 11 and I want to cruise through it. It was cold starting out but luckily not a lot of wind, that would have done it. There was a guy on inline skates who seemed very out of place on those inline skates. His feet were either caved in or splayed out and, even on the flats, movement forward was an effort. He was going so slow that I passed him. I don't pass many people and I've never passed a rollerblader. It was inspiring in an odd sort of way.
Bikers, wrapped up much more than I was, zoomed by in their balaclavas and puffy fleece jackets. One runner dressed in a sleek outfit padded past me about E 79th Street and disappeared up the road. Before I got to the water at 91st, he was headed back to the house. I am a little jealous of good looking roadwear. I wear sweatpants and a sweatshirt and I roll my jacket up tightly and put it in my fannypack. I am sure I look ridiculous but I don't want to freeze in my sweat while waiting for the train to go home.
Right at the Tavern on the Green, there was a mom pushing a baby carriage on the running lane. As I approached within ten yards of her she began to run. Run fast. So, with only about 3/4 of a mile to go, I decided to pass her. Or at least catch up to her. And the race was on. I don't know if she saw me out of the corner of her eye and didn't want to be passed by such an inelegant creature but off she went. Did I mention that this section is downhill slightly? I let out all the stops. and slowly gained a little then I saw her falter, just a step or two and knew she couldn't keep up her furious pace. I plowed on and making the sound of a sheep being strangled in a wire fence, I roared passed her and was at the same time passed by the odd guy on the roller blades. What? He's made it all the way around the park? Nothing could stop me now, I had to catch him too.
The path to the train (the finish line) was coming up soon. My only advantage was knowing that neither the baby pusher nor the staggering man on rollerblades knew that the finish was so close. As the baby carriage came even with me on my left, the rollerblader seemed to be distracted by a squirrel or something in the trees. I swept around him and dashed down the final fifty yards, crossing over the roadway and exiting on the path well before either of my competitors.
I trotted through the little lunch kiosk seating area and went down the subway stairs to get my time from the ticket booth clock. 71 minutes.
