Ready for what happened today?  I’m still not 100% sure but I’ll tell u the story and u can be the judge.  I’m on the highway around 30th street and i suddenly smell the oh so familiar smell of Marijuana.

I’m wondering where on earth this could be coming from because the only person nearby is a runner dude running in a… HM… Wait a second… running in an unusually large sweatshirt and cargo pants. and i think he’s… smoking.

Interesting cover-up technique.  I ran right up to him.  I was curious.  Hung out for a few minutes a few feet behind him… tap tap tap… took a deep (deep) breath… then I lapped that sucker YEA!

Anyway, I feel boring today.  My run was pretty boring.  Its like… MILD out.  worst word ever… Mild… Ew… So average…

The good news is that no one took my wet shoes that I left to dry outside our door last night.  I found them right where I left them.

3 years ago i left wet shoes by the door and someone took ONE shoe.  Just Took my one shoe and left the other by the door.

Who are you and WHY would u do that?

Amit (my awesome husband) and I plotted revenge.  We were working from home at the time and we tied dental floss to the remaining (lonely) shoe by the door, slid the dental floss under the door and just waited till we heard a sound coming from teh hallway.  The master plan was to pull the shoe and… laugh about it.

Those suckers never came back.

I ran into Larry this AM by the elevator while I was stretching. He lives in our building and he’s been running for years. Larry has gray hair which in my head automatically means “wisdom”.

Side note:  My dad got really smart after he started growing some gray hair.  I think It’s like the act of your brain disposing of all waste through your follicles and your head is less crowded with crap so u can think better.  Wisdom.

Another side note: Is it me or do they add french vanilla to everything these days? What is the deal? Pretzels, cereal, toothpaste, mouthwash? Isn’t mouth wash supposed to neutralize your mouth and get rid of the taste of food?  I’m sorry.  I don’t get it.

Anyway about Larry.  He’s a rock star.  He’s been running his whole life.  Every once in a while when we bump into each other he’ll tell me a random story.  Once he told me about how he used to run so much that he just started falling asleep in the middle of the day because he was so tired.  Just like.. developed a mild form (there’s that word again) of Narcolepsy or something.

Awesome.

Every one could use a little narcolepsy in their life.  If our bodies could just shut down for a recharge every once in a while mid-day we would all probably be in a better place.  We would all be a little bit more like that annoying energizer bunny.  He definitely recharges in between commercials when no one’s looking.  Someone should have pulled the plug on him a long time ago.

Where was I?…

I think they have places in midtown with sleep pods.  You basically rent out silence and comfort for a few minutes.  Holy crap. Cheers to the development of the human race.

Speaking of Cheers – last night i had a few drinks with Pete Wade at this place called Steak Frites.  Pete’s one of my best friends.  He’s tall and looks like Waldo from the Where’s Waldo books.  He’s really smart and he produces the coolest music in NYC.  He also produces smelly farts.  Just kidding.

Anyway, those Steak Frites people are geniuses.  I don’t even like french fries (That’s such a lie.  Everyone likes French fries i just don’t eat them that much) but while we were drinking at the bar one of the line cooks came out of the kitchen and served us a side of french fries on the house.  Ketchup and all.  Genius.

Everyone loves a fry with a drink and they are so easy and cheap to make I feel like every restaurant should do that.  Fuck beer nuts and chex mix.  Serve fries.  I’m starting a movement.

Last night, at yet another holiday shindig on Perry street, I had one too many glasses of wine.  I was with my husband and a bunch of architects who were working on this really cool project in Rwanda.  Lots of pretty pictures on the wall.  lots of red wine.  This morning I felt like my head was about to explode.  It was a very non-mild pain in the left side of my head and if I had the option i would have chopped that side off just to get rid of it.  It went away after ten minutes of running though so good thing i didn’t have that option.

I’m tired.. Really worn out from all these holiday parties.  I need a massage or a yoga class or some kind of time out.  Why don’t we get time outs anymore?   I used to hate them when I was a kid.  Standing all alone in the corner and facing the wall was the PITS…

Now I think it could possibly be the best thing to happen to a person.  I mean.. Stand alone.  Face the wall.  No one is allowed to talk to you.  You’re not allowed to talk to anyone.  Can’t even pickup a cell phone to yap.  No computer screen to make you twitch and stress out.  Just a wall and some “me time” to “think about what you did”.  Heaven.

I should just rent a corner somewhere in midtown and sell time outs to people who look like they need it.  I’d be all “Put down the bag and stand here and don’t talk and give me five bucks”

SMELL THIS:

Freezing rain – burning coffee (Not Starbucks) – pine trees – cigarettes – truck exhaust… throw a little wet dog and soaking, sloppy trash smell in there, a little deep heating menthol rub (I decided to love it go figure…) and u are right with me… (right in my nostrils) this morning.

OK.
Now… PICTURE THIS:

Rows of west village brown stone buildings one shade darker than usual because of the rain.  The tree lined blocks are one shade greener… the garbage truckers and construction workers are in their “fuck you I’m wet” mode which basically means – get the fuck out of their way.  They deserve it.  they are the only ones i feel OK stopping for, or skirting around.  Every one else can go fuck themselves.  I’m running in the fucking WET rain. MOVE.

Also picture this… cute little Kids in rain boots… Tiny, little, yellow, rubber covered feet splashing in puddles… mixed in with giant work boots STOMPING in between the tiny boots.  Then picture some HOT over the knee leather boots (Side note: there’s a Steve Madden pair I’ve been eyeing and saw on a bunch of chicks this AM – think I’m going to get them) skirting the puddles but from time to time just stomping straight through them.

k… now… Listen to this:

Cell phone conversations… REALLY urgent ones.  IMPORTANT BUSY PEOPLE.  The holidays are coming up and clearly a few deals need to be closed before the 24th.. Subway sounds shaking the ground a little bit…  Not too much.  I never really notice it anymore to be honest but I’ve been making a point to sharpen my senses for my readers (oh wait I have no readers) so that i can really describe the NYC running experience from my perspective.  Also throw in a little Isan in there.  I listened to him for half my run.  So good. SO GOOD.  Go here: http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/meet-next-life/id39869998

Now feel this:

FUCCKKING COLD!!!! Fucking freezing (and LARGE) rain drops SMACKING my face!! I’m hardly awake!! Cold wind! More cold Wind!! Wind!!! blowing wind tunnels every now and then (23rd street and 11th ave – THE WORST!)

OH.
MY.
GOD.

After about ten minutes I’m fine – I feel really tough.  I disappear into my own world again.

Ahhh… sweet relief….  Where would I be without this?….

Running in freezing rain makes me feel like i deserve something.  That something could be… a private jet for instance.  Or… a house in Laurel Canyon.  Why do i feel this way? I don’t know.  It’s an accomplished sort of feeling and therefore i feel entitled.  I feel like I’m the rare case of “human that decided to go run in the freezing rain in the morning” so that should translate to the rare case of “human who owns a private jet”.  That’s how my mind works.

I also run past the helicopter pad on the west side highway almost everyday which I’m sure fuels these thoughts in some way.  It’s always filled with SUVs parked nearby and men in trench coats and tall blond women in aviators and Swiss Army jackets.  Bunch of tinted windows and black cars.  So hot.  It’s all so tough and hot and I like it and I want it.  Today I felt like I want to fly a plane and shoot a gun.  Weird.  Why a gun? I hate guns.  It’s tough though.  I didn’t actually want to shoot it at anyone.  It just went well with the outfit I was picturing myself in.

I’m not resenting the cold today.  It reminds me of being a tough New Yorker and I’m proud of it.  Living here makes u grow a set of balls.  even if you’re a girl.  Yup.  Grow a sack or get out.

Where am i going with this?… I just lost myself.  But let me interrupt myself to share a funny story I thought about during the meatpacking district part of my run (in 2003 I stepped on an fish eyeball there. Swear. Gross).  Anyway, my sister has two kids and one little PEENSY TEENSY one on the way.  She looks like she’s smuggling a basketball under her shirt….

Kids are cute (not all kids – only some) and HER kids are the bomb.  I mean… Loud and fucking funny but they also do what they are told.  Ok… now I made them sound like good dogs.  Anyway… one day Einat (my sister) takes a sea shell and shows it to Miriam (my 4 year old niece) and she goes on to explain what it is.  It went something like this:

Einat: Miriam this is a seashell.  You can find a lot of these by the sea.  Isn’t it pretty?

Miriam: Yeeeeeeah…

Einat: look at the colors

Miriam: Yeeeeahhhh… (only my family knows how she drags out her YEEEAH’s – it’s amazingly hysterical)

Einat: ok put it against your ear.  You can hear the sound of the ocean

Miriam: Mommy… that’s not the ocean.  That’s the subway slowing down.

BOOM.  There you go.
That’s a NYC kid.
Brilliant.

Parents are definitely responsible for teaching their kids how to survive in this city and I think they grow up to be street smart, tough kids.  (Example: this AM in Chelsea some chick was rooting for her 2 foot child who was holding a 2 foot wide umbrella to just “GO Devin! GO Devin! Just PUSH!!”  Devin pushed away and I almost stepped on him.  Honestly.. he looked like he would have been fine if i did)

I may be talking out of my ass here.. I don’t have kids and I haven’t tried raising my non-kids in NYC so i don’t really know but I think they grow up tough… In a good way.

Side note: No true New Yorker feels responsible for more than half a square inch of their umbrella on the sidewalk.  You want to run into my shit and poke your eye out? Go for it.  Not my problem.

Another Side note: I ran past Sala this AM and realized its been a while – gotta go back there.  I love their red wine.  I love how dark it is in there.  I love Tapas.

My friend, Logic, sent me a text this AM quoting Jim Carey: “May good fortune hit u before U have time to talk yourself out of it”

Guess what Logic: The rain hit me over and over again this morning. And it felt like good fortune (after about 10 minutes).  I didn’t talk myself out of it.  There u go.  I really listened to you and Jim

My mind was blank today.

I hate admitting that because I always want to feel original but today I was totally un-original when I woke up.

And then I thought “fuck its cold and I hate the fact that I have 5 holiday parties to go to this week”

Then I wondered… Why would I wake up and feel unmotivated to accept free drinks? Something must be seriously wrong with me.  The weather may be fucking with my brain…

Then I took a citrus flavored vitamin C drop… which made things slightly better…

I put on like 4 layers and stuck my ipod on my head playing Isan on repeat.  Love Isan these days. So soothing.  So repetitive which makes my mind go even more numb… Blahhh…

Then I stretched for less than 5 min and found my way to the elevator almost by accident.  I mean… I started stretching in the elevator again and thought “Am I even up yet? How’d I get into this elevator?”…

I said Hi to Rene (My awesome doorman)

Then… Tap tap tap (my feet) tap tap tap (my feet) Blank (my mind) blank blank blank (my mind) I’m tired…

Then I thought “fuck I have to blog”.

Then “wtf am I going to blog about” then “wtf am I blogging about my running? There’s nothing to say”

Then I thought “what’s everyone else thinking out here?”

There are probably a bunch of people like me who just run every morning in this city… On this highway… Around the same time.  I bet a handful are as religious as me about it.  Actually wait… what am i thinking… I bet a few thousand people in NYC run like me.  They don’t make a big deal out of it but they can’t live without it.  Where are they? What are they thinking right now?

WHAT’S GOING ON IN THEIR HEADS AND HOW DO I FIND THEM?

Side note: My fingers were numb when I got home.  I hate that.  I couldn’t type my blog so I’m doing it on my blackberry in the subway.  The woman next to me is big enough to fill two seats.  How do people let that happen?…  I wish i could turn around to her and help her somehow.  She’s probably so stuck in a vicious cycle that she can’t get out of.  I’ve been stuck in vicious cycles.  They feel impossible to break through but i have broken through them in the past.  I could help… I could relate…

Maybe she doesn’t want help.

I got tons of celery and carrots and a green apple this morning.  If an apple is even remotely soft I can’t eat it.  I’m really specific about that.

I’m thinking I’m going to try and eat as many raw vegetables against my instincts.  Its so cold that all I want is hot oatmeal and chocolate and a wheat free scone with fake butter and vegan soup but I’m going to just go raw for a while.  See how I feel about it…

I need to find more runners.  That’s my new mission.

NYC and me…

We are a little bit like a passionate love affair gone bad…

I’ve loved this place for almost 10 years and sometimes i feel like it’s kicked my ass during that entire time.  Regardless of how pissed I get at this place, I can’t help but come back, despite the fact that  it makes me feel cold and crowded and bombarded with people and noise… and it gives me no space to live… it’s obnoxiously expensive and smelly at times but i can’t help but love it and when I’m gone i miss it….

I love the people I’m always meeting.  I love walking.  I love the buildings and midtown and downtown and Chelsea and Tribeca and the dirty sunrise and sunsets filled with air- polluted purple sky and running into some new restaurant/bar/hole in the wall at the end of the day and ordering a Jameson’s on the rocks by the bar.  I love that i can text a friend and the furthest they will be is a cab ride away.

I love that as soon as i get sick of all my shorts I have to start wearing pants and jackets and as soon as I start getting sick of my jackets I have to switch to coats and scarves.

I love warming my hands with my morning coffee on the way down to the subway when it’s cold out and screaming at cab drivers but then saying thank you…

The rhythm i get into in this city stimulates me… it challenges me and it makes me dream.  My dreams are different when i fall asleep on the 7th floor of my building.  They are bigger.  They’re louder and clearer too…

I was running through the streets today.  I turned in from the highway unexpectedly early.  I usually try to stay out there as long as possible but for some reason i was craving people today.  I wanted to see who was out, what they were wearing, i wanted to almost bump into someone and have them turn around or stop or move… i guess this blog is making me even more desperate for contact during (or in relation to) this ritual I’ve been keeping up for so long on my own. By myself. Alone.

I’ve done it in purpose – don’t get me wrong.  I’ve had people say “lets run together” or “come pick me up in the mornings that will motivate me”  or “I’m training for a marathon lets do a run together” its so rare that i take people up on those offers mainly because i feel like my run is…MINE.  it’s not a time i want to talk to anyone or explain why i stretch a certain way or why I’m wearing what I’m wearing or compare ipods and sneakers and breakfasts and strides.  i would rather just fall into my own thoughts and ignore the rest of the world.

Why is it that all of a sudden I feel this urge to have someone hear my thoughts? I’m not sure…

I took my ipod with me today and timed my run – one hour and 6 minutes.  Knew It.  it’s always the same.

One more thing: My favorite kind of music to run to is music with no words. It doesn’t make me feel like someone else’s words are telling me how to feel or causing me to think i feel a certain way… I love instrumental music that lets my mind fill in the blanks.  especially when I’m running…

There are exceptions of course.  I’ll get into that another day.

Today was cold.

Almost too cold to want to run and i almost decided to take a day off but then i went down to get some tea and realized I couldn’t write in my blog if i took a day off so… I RAN.

It turned out to be a kick ass run.  I should probably start timing my runs and calculating distance so I can talk about that too but it seems so tedious.

I used to do it all the time and then realized i didn’t really care about time or distance that much…

When i go on vacation or if I’m traveling for work i take my nano and set it on the stopwatch thing and just time 30 min in one direction. Then i turn around and forget about it.  The few times I’ve actually
tried google mapping my distance i found that my pace is pretty consistent.  depending on hills and the weather i average between 6-7 miles an hour.  I usually do about 5 miles in 45 minutes.

When i was in LA i met a crazy runner – he might have been nuttier than me.  He used to run for Scotland when he was a kid and he told me the best story ever about how his dad used to bet on him during
races.  This dude actually hustled his son by feeding him fish and chips in the morning before each race.  He would run comparatively slow on those days and then one day… BAMMMM!!! he fed him nothing in the AM, bet on his kid, and the kid ran like the wind on an empty stomach.  Fucking hysterical… who does that???

On that note: I love running on an empty stomach.  Can’t imagine eating a thing before running.  Even a peanut bothers me.  Weird? maybe…

Anyway.  Side note.

So… here’s my take on running in NYC in general:

I usually try to get to the highway as fast as possible because i have no patience for people.  Especially slow ones.  ESPECIALLY slow FAT ones.  ESPECIALLY slow, fat ones who have dogs on leashes and take their fucking time picking up their crap while blocking the entire sidewalk.  There should definitely be a law against those people even existing in the first place.

The first few minutes of my run in NYC consists of swerving through people and trying to figure out how to get the EFF out of the street as fast as possible.  Once I’m on the highway path (Usually the west side) I am
home free.  My mind completely escapes my head and i start to imagine whatever i want to imagine on that particular day.

Yes.  I think without my mind.  I use my feet, and my lungs and my stomach – i think much better not using my head…

I’d be lying if i said that every day is a profound journey in my head.  Some days I’m just thinking “fuck that fucking FUCK that fucking son-of-a-bitch asshole fucking FUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKinggg cockSUCKER” I get angry sometimes… i do… and i take it out on the road….

Other days i think about this ideal scenario for my life in general or just an ideal scenario for the day or the week or a situation at work.

I write songs a lot in my head when I’m running… and stories.  That’s the sweeter side of me and always a good time…  I also design clothes in my head (????) I think about how I’m going to rip my new t-shirts, sweaters, hats, etc.  I love ripping my clothes to make them fit me better.  Weird? maybe…

Anyway – today was COLD.  I hate the cold.

I just spent two weeks in Spain, 6 in LA, and 1 in Israel.  Those runs were fantastic.  Why? Because I’m so used to freezing my ass off during this time of year and cursing life during the first ten minutes.  It was so warm in Spain and LA and Israel so even if i woke up tense and feeling unmotivated i would go out and feel the sun hit my back and automatically want to play outside.  Running is very much like playing outside when it’s nice out.  Other days its just a good way to let out all the crap that clogs my head….

This morning I woke up in a semi-manic state and decided to clean out the already very clean cupboards in the kitchen.  I found a deep heating pain relieving rub and was like “OK I’m rubbing this on my leg
– lets see what happens…”

Cut to the next scene: I’m running and realizing that by Deep Heating they really meant menthol action cooling that works EXTRA well when the skin is in contact with freezing cold weather…. which really
meant a fun tingly feelings all over my legs that i wasn’t sure if i loved or hated.

Nevertheless I stopped thinking about it after like 4 minutes…

Just like most other things.

I run NYC.

I have been running every day (between 5-7 miles per day) in NYC since Sept. 2000.

WOW!! It feels good to say that.

Running is probably one of the only things in my life that I’ve been really disciplined about.  I”m sure it’s because I’m addicted to the runners high i get after running… I have no choice but to pull myself out of bed because i know that about an hour after i start i will be in a better place….

Let me start by saying that I’m not a writer, not an athlete, not certified to really advise anyone on any kind of nutritional advise…Just a chick who runs every single day outside (rain or shine) and LOVES it… and wants to talk about it and hopefully someone will give a shit and read about it and say something back.

It’s been 9 years now so I decided I’d start blogging about my runs. sooo….. here it goes:

I run alone.  i run on the west side highway or FDR.  Depending on where I live (I’ve moved 4 times in NYC).

I tie my nano ipod to my hair and take off from my apt in the west village every single morning around 730 AM.

On weekends I usually run a little later like 9 or 10.  Today I ran at 7.. Go figure… I was the only crackhead out there…

I used to drink coffee before my runs  but lately I’ve been just waking up and going.  I go through many patters… I used to get injured pretty often and i have a strong feeling that my latest stint
has been a result of reading this book called “Born To Run”.  It’s a great book and made me feel slightly less insane.

I have to tell u that most people think I’m insane.  I’ve moved around to a few different apartments in the city and each doorman I’ve ever had has been completely floored by my dedication.  I. personally, don’t feel like it’s a huge deal… But I learned that people love to care about other people’s habits and make comments on them and form opinions.

I know the “doorman reaction pattern” pretty well at this point.  I can predict how it’ll all go down:

The first few times (after moving to a new apt) I gear up for crazy weather conditions and get “the look” from the doorman that basically is saying “You have problems.  Why can’t u just take this day off?”.
I know that look well

After a few months of living in an apt they get used to it and just laugh when they see me gear up for a snowstorm run… Or during a really rainy day.  I come back soaking wet and people in the elevator
are like “WTF… this chick is a total train wreck/ how can i be that way?”

I never buy expense running clothes.  I run in crap i find for cheap at Kmart or TJ Max – who cares? There’s no need for real gear.  in fact – all i need is layers.  layers of long sleeve shirts.  I’ve taken off shirts during my runs and left them on the side of the road and forgot to go back for them. That’s another reason why I don’t invest in running clothes.

Running shoes, on the other hand, are important to me.  I run in Mizunos.  I’m not saying that those are the best shoe or anything I’m just saying it works for me.  I’ve been using the same model for years.  I switched to Saucony once and got Planters fasciitis. Runner’s worst nightmare that could EVER EXIST.

Lately i discovered the coolest thing ever.   running sock less.  I also don;t tie my shoe laces tight at all.  I slip my shoes on and off and i always feel my feet swish around in my shoes during a run.  I learned that doing this is not totally crazy after reading “Born to run”.  I swallowed that book in a few days.  It was so great to learn that there is a tribe of people in Mexico who run crazy mileage in sandals and do most of their runs wasted on corn beer.  This makes me want to find them in Mexico and live there.

I love to drink.  Alcohol is amazing.  It’s ALMOST as good as running but not quite.  if i mix the two i can be happy anywhere.

I used to smoke a pack a day.  I would run and smoke when i got home. I miss smoking…. I didn’t quit on purpose.  I quit because my body decided one day to reject cigarettes.  No idea why and how it happened
but it did.

I tried everything.  I tried switching to Marlboro lights, i tried only smoking after eating.  Nothing worked.

My physical makeup decided to re-wire itself and  get nauseous every time i smoked a cigarette.  I started getting dizzy and ill and couldn’t;t even have another drink.  I guess it was my body’s way of saying “time to stop”.  I’m sort of upset about it because when i DID enjoy cigarettes they were awesome.  I still love the smell….

sometimes i run past someone who is smoking and i breath extra deep so that i can get the smell into my lungs and throat.  Sick.

I love eating green things.

I actually feel intoxicated when i eat lettuce, Brussels sprouts, celery, green apples, broccoli, Now you’re probably rolling your eyes and hating me right now.  Who is this bitch and why the EFF does she have to rave about her natural, effortless gravitation towards healthy stuff that bores the shit out of almost every one else?

Well.  Don’t be mad.  Just listen to my stories and you’ll start feeling better pretty soon when u realize how self destructive i tend to get at times…

i believe that we would all be happier if we ran every day.  i also believe that running IS good for u despite all the bullshit people tell u about how running can hurt u and its bad for your knees blah blah blahhhh.  My doctor is awesome.  Dr. Dan is a ultra marathoner, triathaloner-loner runner champion dude unstoppable crazy man.  When i get injured he gets me back on the road as fast as possible and tells
me to keep going.  He’s the bomb.

Here’s what i think: The secret to running forever is to run RIGHT. Not flail around like a tool.

Running right takes time and effort (just like learning to dance) and listening to your body.  I don;t know how to teach anyone how to do it but i do want to share my experiences with anyone who is interested in hearing about them.

I’ll write more tomorrow when i get back from my run