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September 10, 2004
Lessons on Waking Too Early for One’s Own Good
On Tuesday morning I pulled a Classic Corie. There are many things that fit into this category, but this one stands out as a consistent ripple in my common sense.
After hearing reports of potential aftershocks of hurricane whetting our weather, after reading the weather report the night before that noted heavy rain at times, I rose at 5:30 a.m., looked out the window, saw only a slight mist, and took off for the gym. It must be tapering, I thought, and jogged over to 9th Street, sans windbreaker or umbrella.
When I emerged from the gym an hour later, the rain was hitting the city in streets. The subway drains were rejecting the liquid influx, along with the sewers, who seemed just as enthusiastic, regurgitating six inch deep expanses at every corner in Park Slope. [Side thought: Pooh on people who insinuated that New Yorkers fall to their knees at inclement weather! That does not deter us. Retarded subway systems do. And that’s when we get cranky.] I took a deep breath, weighed my options (Go work out more and hope it stops? Who was I kidding?) and stepped out into the driving rain.
I love a good, pummeling rain storm. I love getting soaked. I love how it becomes hard to see, causing the city to blur into abstraction. I love letting myself go during these storms, giving up on worried of keeping dry, being late, or any other hindrance that normally would keep me from just having fun. I ran home in the rain on Tuesday, slipping and sliding, falling ankle deep in flooded street corners, losing a bit of anxiety and stress with each squelchy squish my now drenched sneakers took.
When I got home, I left my running shoes at the front door and hung my soaked clothing around the apartment and turned on the A/C. I got dressed for work, sat on a myriad of un-air conditioned trains for 2+ hours, and went on with my day.
This morning I woke at 5:15. The times are getting earlier because I am trying to fit longer runs in. At this time of morning, fifteen minutes makes a big difference. Peeling me out of bed felt like I was zipping off my skin. I had to use an imaginary shoehorn to complete the task. I managed to throw on my running clothes. My sneakers, however, were another story—they were still soaked. One second away from pulling the covers back over my head and going back to sleep for two hours, I rummaged around the house looking for a spare pare of running shoes. Finally, I found a pair—slightly too small but good enough. I stuck my head out the window, saw no rain, and shuffled out the door, sans windbreaker or umbrella.
This time, the pouring rain hit one block into my jog to the gym. One of my contact lenses gave way to the flood and literally slipped right out of my eye. At this point, I kept telling myself You got this far, you’re marginally awake, and you’re going to run this 8 miles if it kills you. I finally reached the entrance to the gym to find the desk guy standing outside.
We’re closed, he said, with no hint of further information.
Er, well, will you open again…I mean, soon?
Nope, not that I know of.
I looked at this purveyor of bountiful knowledge, then glanced at the street. Through the rain I saw two parked, dark police cars. It turned out, after another round of fifty questions, that the gym had been broken into and vandalized. Who vandalizes a gym? Aren’t there any better places to spend criminal energy? Sheesh.
So the gym was closed, I was soaked (with my iPod this time, which made running outside a no-no), and most of all, I was wide awake. At 5:30 a.m. I still had another jog home ahead of me, though this time the downpour did not seem quite as exciting. I bought the paper en route home, gave the guy a $5 dollar bill and forgot to get change. When I arrived back at the apartment, the cat had barfed right at the door. And now both pairs of sneakers are soaked.
Too bad Tien and I don’t wear the same size.
Posted by callalillie at September 10, 2004 2:16 AM | City Life
, Running
on the bright side, you had time for a lengthy morning rant.
Posted by: tien at September 10, 2004 9:02 AM
ah yes! though i must confess i wrote that at work yesterday when i was supposed to have been breaking out school data...
Posted by: corie at September 10, 2004 9:34 AM
Mmm, wet shoes. I had the pleasure of soaking a pair while trying to get into a recreational-type kayak last weekend. I think the annoyed fly fisherman, who was waiting for us to get the noisy heck outta there, somehow willed me to fall into the river.
I have to second the notion that getting caught in torrential downpours can be fun. There's something about being totally soaked to the bone and knowing that you can't get any wetter (you're one with deep puddles), that's just so liberating. Having a nice, dry, warm apartment with a towel ready, is also a needed component.
Posted by: matt at September 10, 2004 10:59 AM
A dryer in the apartment would be lovely, too!
Posted by: corie at September 10, 2004 11:21 AM
