There's definitely some running excitement in the air.
I love this time of year, where we're on the cusp of shedding the cooler temperatures (I think I'm done with the tights, finally), and the prospect of singlets and shorts weather beckons.
I love going out for an early morning run and passing people of all shapes and sizes and speeds, some gearing up for their Boston Marathon blast, others just looking to shed some pounds (or give their dog a workout). On those runs, I don't *know* anyone, but I know them, such as the solitary runner on the Brooklyn Heights Promenade at 5:30 a.m., or the woman who runs in the Heights or on the Brooklyn Bridge in a long skirt.
I love the fact that running gives you a concrete goal. For some, it's simply to finish a race and a distance they've never done. For others, it's finishing a 8 x 400 with each one in 70 seconds or better. (Next stop, 16 x 400).
I was at Red Hook Track earlier this evening, desperately trying to reteach my legs how to run fast (it's always worse after I'm coming off an injury. I had a chance to watch some runners from Clara Barton High churning out some 400s, 200s, sprints - and it was pretty awesome.
That's why I run. And ice.
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