Leaky Faucets

Shit, it rains hard here!!!  Like right now.  It started with a trickle than abruptly shifted to a downpour.  And often it comes without any warning.  The other day I was awoken from my slumber by the sound of pounding precipitation on our windows.  Even at that hour, and still in a jetlagged state, I realized I had to close all the windows in the kitchen.  And then I realized, like an idiot I left my running shoes outside to dry as they were wet from sweat.  When I went to bed the night before, I didn’t really consider the possibility that it might rain during the night.  But now I know never to do that again because the weather can turn quickly here.  Especially during the rainy season, which apparently started sometime while we were away.  Not too crazy about rain and this is my first experience with the rainy season.  I hope that even if it rains a bit every day it won’t be all day long.  So far, it hasn’t been too bad.  At least I’m at work now so I don’t care much if it rains while I’m stuck in the office.  Don’t mind at all if it rains while I’m sleeping either as long as my clothes aren’t outside and the rain doesn’t come inside.

Seems there’s not much to do in Hong Kong but shop and eat, and I finished my shopping bit yesterday spending an hour or so at HMV (normally I try to avoid chain music stores but I’m starved for music and there is little choice here) buying 2 CDs: Aimee Mann’s “I’m with Stupid” and Manu Chao’s new one, “La Radiolina,” which I’m listening to for the first time as I write this. So that leaves eating, and if I do much more of that I’m going to explode.

So I had to figure out how I’d spend my afternoon-my last full day in HK. I was on my own so I could set my own itinerary. Of course, I had to eat first to give me the energy to explore the city on foot. I only had HK$100 in my wallet (about $13 US) to last the whole day so it would have to be cheap. Chinese food can be inexpensive here, but I was already right sick of Chinese, especially the greasy foods we’ve been eating here such as duck and pork and pan fried noodles. (I will, however, have Dim Sum tomorrow-can’t miss a chance for good Dim Sum in Hong Kong and we haven’t had time yet.) I was in the mood for a sandwich, but unfortunately all the Pret a Manger locations are on the other side on Hong Kong Island, and I was too hungry to go that far.

I walked down Nathan Road-the main thoroughfare in Kowloon-and then Haiphong Road, another congested main road. I decided to take a turn down one of the less traveled and dingier side streets hoping the places there would be cheaper. I briefly considered stopping in a noodle shop because I love noodle soup, but it looked pretty bleak. Next door was a Turkish place. I was skeptical, but it was full and most of the staff looked sufficiently Turkish, so I decided to give it a try. Turned out to be delightful and quick, and pretty healthy too. And more importantly, it was cheap at HK$50 for a chicken doner roll (thinly sliced chicken with lettuce, tomatoes, onions and a delicious sauce on pita), a cup of creamy lentil soup and bottled water. Actually, this was probably the best meal I’ve had so far in Hong Kong and absolutely the best value; most of our prior meals have been in LKF, Central-a very pricy district with mostly overpriced establishments. Even the Whisky Priest Irish pub was expensive, although at least the burger there was tasty.

I was out of Istanbul Express in 30 minutes. I decided I would check out Kowloon Park which borders Nathan Road and Haiphong Road on two of its sides. It’s gorgeous out today (about 21C/70F and sunny). The park is small compared to Central Park but it’s bigger than Washington Square Park. It is very serene compared to the pedestrian clogged streets just outside. Frankly, I’m really tired of looking at commerce and wanted to be in a place where no one tried to sell me anything like a Rolex copy or a custom-tailored suit. (Actually, later I discovered there is a McDonald’s inside the park.) A beautiful high-rising, geyser-like fountain greeted me near the Haiphong entrance. I sat there for a while to start writing this in my notebook while a young girl in a graduation cap and gown posed for pictures with her friends.

During my walk, I observed a few old guys doing Tai Chi or something and several other groups of locals practicing dance routines, some involving swords. A creepy guy tried to make eye contact with me at the park’s public urinal. Every park I’ve ever been to-no matter how small or urbane-has had its share of creeps and freaks. Why should Hong Kong be any different?

I ended up spending about two hours in the park-a good way to spend time in an expensive city without spending any money. Other attractions in Kowloon Park include an aviary with tropical birds, gardens, a bird lake with exotic ducks and flamingos, a gigantic swimming pool which now sits empty due to the season and a soccer field. There is also the Hong Kong Heritage Discovery Center which I stopped in for a few minutes to see the exhibit on Hong Kong’s history and cultural heritage.

I’m absolutely a parks person and think they represent the best things about cities and governments along with libraries. These are places for people to hang out freely (mostly anyway) together or alone at no cost. Locals and tourists mingle. People exercise, sleep, read. Kids play. Parks really give me a feel for a new place so I like to visit them when I travel. Seeing so many people there gives me a really good feeling. I really miss Central Park more than almost anything in New York.

Having nothing really to do today, it was good just to wander. It was small enough where I wasn’t going to get lost, and I had a map just in case. There were signs all over the park pointing toward a Footbridge to Hong Kong City, China. I was confused at what this meant-I didn’t think it meant Hong Kong Island after looking at a map, but was hoping it was. Kind of like walking across the Brooklyn Bridge (which I only ever walked about halfway across), it would be cool to walk from Kowloon to HK Island. But, after crossing over an expressway, the footbridge ended at the harbor and ferry terminal with service to Macau and Mainland China. (I’m still not sure what HK City, China refers to. It’s on my map-could be another mall or a building or port.) I was disappointed that I’d reached the end of the line but I was pleased with the spectacular view of the skyline across the harbor. Hong Kong really is visually stunning and unique city with its mountains and water and hilliness and many skyscrapers (it’s up there with San Francisco), but unfortunately it always seems to be covered in a layer of smoggy haze.

I wish I had brought my camera today, but all I had was my phone. I took a few shots but they’re pretty crappy (as usual as I’m a hack photographer), so I’ve posted here a few pics from the web, which approximate where I was today.

We arrived in Hong Kong SAR, China (that’s Special Administrative Region, which is part of Hong Kong’s official name since it reverted back to Chinese rule–one country, two systems, blah, blah, blah) two days ago. I’m here with Aya and Gahum and a few others from Pan Arts for a jewelry show of sorts. We didn’t join the official trade show at the Asia World convention center; instead, we decided to get a suite at a trendy hotel in Central Hong Kong and invite buyers here. It hasn’t been too successful so far but there’s still one more day. Mostly, we’ve been hanging out in the hotel waiting futilely for someone to show. A buyer from Paris stopped by briefly earlier and said he’d be back, but we’re not holding our breath.

Coming to HK was a welcome change for me. It brought me back to a place of order–something that is mostly lacking in the Philippines. (Chaos and randomness and informality can be good, I think, but one really needs to time to get used to that sort of thing.) What I’m talking about is this: in HK, all streets seem to have names (and people actually refer to them), buildings have addresses and there’s a very orderly and efficient public transportation system here. Like New York, you can easily make your way around here without a car of your own. Walking is common here too, although parts of the city such as the trendy Lan Kwai Fong in Central where our hotel (aptly named Hotel LKF) is located, are extremely hilly and replete with steep concrete stair cases. It’s kind of a cool effect if you can manage not to trip and get run over by one of the ubiquitous red taxis. I really do miss walking around outside even if I just wander and have no clue where I’m going. The weather is nice here (high 50s to low 70s) and refreshing for a change, although it feels a little cold after two months of being in a place where the thermometer never drops below 70.

There are also some giant, outdoor escalators in the middle of the city leading to what else? Another mall. Yes, Hong Kong must have more malls and retail space per square inch than any other city I’ve been to. It seems that shopping is the favorite pastime here with eating being a close second. Obviously, Chinese food is king here but there is also a nice variety of ethnic cuisines: Lebanese (we ate at Beirut last night which was overpriced and disappointing), Italian, Vietnamese, Russian, English, Japanese, etc. I’m taking a little break from Chinese food right now as I had it two days in a row and Gahum tends to order the greasy, fatty stuff which tastes good, but does a number on my stomach. Today, I had a healthy nicoise salad from Pret a Manger down the hill from our hotel. Wish they had one of those in the Philippines. I am looking forward to getting some dim sum this weekend, though.

Yesterday I was reminded of my former life working in Manhattan. I went to order lunch at Tsui Wah restaurant near our hotel. I had to shimmy my way past the hordes perched near the entrance in order to get to the cashier so I could place an order. Luckily, she spoke English and was able to understand me, I think. Then, Sammy (one of our companions here) and I stood amongst the aforementioned hordes waiting for our number to be called as I got dizzy watching the crowds of lunchgoers hustle in and out. This was the lunchtime rush of office workers, mostly Chinese though some were white. There still seem to be a lot of Brits here. It was a little too much for me after spending two months in the calm and relatively sedate Cebu. And I haven’t worked in Manhattan and dealt with this kind of lunch rush since 2002 anyway. I don’t think I want to go back to that anytime soon as much as I can complain about the slowness of the Philippines sometimes. In this place, like New York, you must be assertive and shout to be heard and often push your way past others to be seen. It’s even more complicated here where many restaurant workers do not speak English.

Neither do most of the cabdrivers. This can make getting around a little difficult sometimes. Even if you show them the address they can be confused if it is not in Chinese. Apparently, this was not the case before 1997 and the end of British rule.

I’m posting here from Boracay Beach in the Philippines. Actually I’m lying down outside less than 50 feet from the ocean with my laptop. They’ve got wi-fi here which works great outside-even better than in our room at the Sur beach resort. This is a pretty bare bones resort; it’s really just a hotel located on the beach with very few amenities other than the aforementioned wi-fi, which is unexplicably shut off every evening and not turned back on until the morning. Sur is probably one of the cheapest hotels in Boracay, which is teeming with beach resorts and restaurants geared toward a largely European clientele. Some rooms here are well over $300/night.

I shouldn’t complain about anything right now. It’s really relaxing here. We just came for a few days because my mother-in-law has some business here. For me, the idea of taking a swim, coming out and reading my e-mail or checking the news or basketball scores is perfect. I’ve thrown in a little work while I’m here but not too much.

Ana absolutely loves the sand and the sea. She has no problem being dirty and sticky and seems to like the taste of salt water. Here she is enjoying her fresh mango juice.

I got my first bit of sunburn since I’ve been in the Philippines which is pretty amazing considering how easily I usually burn. I guess I’ve been pretty careful applying SPF 50 when I’m out. I’m not in any pain yet and I hope that doesn’t change. The water is a bit cold at first, but it’s pretty warm and humid so that is not necessarily unwelcome. It’s completely clear with very little plant life near the shore and absolutely no aquatic life. This is more of a laying-on-the-beach type place as opposed to a diving mecca. The sand is magnificent-super fine and smooth and white. It doesn’t get hot when you walk on it.

The food has also been quite impressive here. They really cater to Westerners with high quality and widely varied offerings. We’ve had excellent fresh seafood, good Filipino food. Yesterday, I had one of the best Nicoise salads I’ve ever had-pretty amazing considering how mediocre salads are in Cebu.

It’s been a while since I’ve spent my days full of sand and sunblock and sweat. You feel kind of gross after a while, but it’s really just part of the package. There’s always a shower at the end of the afternoon. Unfortunately, though, the showers at Sur spew out scalding hot water with no apparent means of changing the temperature. There’s a sign in the bathroom announcing that their water is solar heated, which I certainly applaud. But, if there is no way to regulate the temperature, it’s not really worth it.

Okay, I will complain about a few things in Boracay because that’s just my nature. Hawkers of all sorts of goods and services are omnipresent. Every step you take someone offers you a massage, a boat ride, a pair of Oakley sunglasses or some cheap jewelry. It’s really annoying. They come right up to you as you’re lying in your beach chair relaxing. You would think the resorts would try to stop this, but they don’t do a thing. The proliferation of boats are a little unsightly too but I can live with that. The flight here was also a little scary. At least for me. We flew a 30-seat propeller jet. I don’t really like flying much, even though I do it quite frequently, but I really don’t like small planes. You feel every bump when you’re above the clouds. I think I was the most nervous person on the plane, and that includes Ana’s nanny for whom this was her very first time flying. I didn’t scream or anything but I had to do some rhythmic breathing to get through some rough patches. Thankfully, it was only about 40 minutes to get here.

This morning, Aya and I did our first race in Cebu: “Run for Your Heart.” I did the 10k (6.2miles) and she did the 6k (3.72 miles). Man, am I out of shape. I finished in 1:04:10, which is by far my PW in a 10k race. PW means Personal Worst-not sure if I’m coining a new term here. Runners often use the acronym PR for personal record. (I think some also use PB for personal best.) This means it’s your best time ever in that particular distance. My 10K PR is 49:31, which I achieved in Central Park in December 2005 when I was on a bit of a roll knocking out PRs several races in a row. My previous personal worst in a 10k was 55:55, also in Central Park. So my range was pretty narrow and my times relatively consistent over about fifteen 10k races.

But today was different. For one, I’m in the worst shape that I’ve been in since I lost over 50 pounds in 2000. I’m about 15-20 lbs. overweight, but I’m trying to do something about it. The second factor was the weather and the conditions of the race. (I know I’m making excuses here, but I think they’re justifiable.) Not sure what the temperature was (probably in the low to mid 80s) but the humidity got really bad about halfway through the race, and my pace slowed precipitously as a result. A tiny bit of blame can be placed on the metric system. (I know, I’m getting pathetic here.) Through years of running, I’m thoroughly familiar with the conversion of Km to miles, but I’m used to having mile markers, not kilometer markers. Also, the markers were quite sporadic so I was not keenly aware of the location of the finish line until I saw the sign.

I was so tired toward the end that I did something I pretty much never do in races (except for the marathon): I walked. Only for two minutes until I caught my breath. But still, I broke one of my own cardinal rules. This was actually during the last kilometer as I only ran for another two minutes after taking my walk break. Hopefully, I can get used to running in this weather so I have a better time next race. The heat and humidity is no worse than that in New York in the summer, but the air quality is much worse. And there were cars on the course, which is almost unheard of in New York. (Some of the races in the outer boroughs have points where cars cross the street, but that’s far different than the situation in Cebu. There were people (not cops) directing traffic, but the race went through some major thoroughfares (Osmena Boulevard, Gorordo Avenue and Escario) and we ran alongside the cars-either on the sides or down the middle of the street surrounded by cars on both sides. This was a first for me. I didn’t feel unsafe due to the many other runners in front or behind me, but the smell wasn’t pleasant. It was likely a combination of diesel exhaust from the Jeepneys, garbage and just general air pollution. (Or maybe it was just durian.) But runners have to fight through a lot of things to finish, so this is just another challenge.

Races in the Philippines are certainly less organized than the ones put on by the New York Road Runners Club. There were no portable toilets at the start. The staging area was the Cebu Doctors University gymnasium which featured a basketball court covered with what looked like peeling wallpaper. The bathroom there had a few urinals and one stall, but unfortunately there was no door on the stall and no seat on the toilet. It’s common in the Philippines for public toilets to have missing seats and there is rarely toilet paper. Aya suggested that we bring some of our own just in case, and we did, but without a seat and a door, I would just have to control my stomach during an hour-long race. Afterwards, there were no bagels or bananas which are the quintessential post-race food in the States. There was bottled water, and some food but I couldn’t find it. Aya said they had pancit, which is a traditional Filipino noodle dish.

On the positive side, I met some cool people that are really involved with the running community. I ran with John Pages for the first half. He’s an acquaintance of Aya’s who writes a column in the Sun.Star and also has a blog on Cebu sports happenings. John introduced me to Dr. Peter Mancao, a cardiologist, who was the race director of today’s race. He did the 2007 NYC Marathon. Through John, I also met a Cebuano women named Maria who has lived in the US for over 30 years and currently resides in Georgia. She’s a great golfer and said she doesn’t like running but only does it to keep in shape for golf. Along the way, I saw a few staff members from Holiday Gym. It’s important for me to meet other runners here so that I’ll have people to train with, especially if I want to do longer runs in preparation for a marathon next year. I don’t want to run here by myself, particularly since people tend to run at 5 am to beat the heat. I’ll probably continue to do most of my running on the treadmill at the gym but eventually hope to do a weekly run outside with a group. There was also a pretty good turnout. Maybe 1,000 people. The running community is somewhat invisible here but apparently it exists, and I hope to be an active part of it.

I’ll stop here now because I’m exhausted. We got up at 4:30 this morning because the race stated at 6:00 am. I don’t think that effected my time, so I won’t use that as an excuse. I do wish the races here started at 8:00 or 9:00 like in New York, but you really can’t do that here. And this, by the way, is supposed to be the coolest time of year. March and April are supposed to be pretty brutal.

We just got back from a weekend at the beach a few hours ago.  We’ve been here for almost a month already and yet, this was a first time at the beach.  There are beaches on Mactan Island about 30-40 minutes away from where we live but those are overcrowded.  The ones down south are much better.  The drive was about two hours each way to Moalboal but it was definitely worth it.  We stayed at Club Serena, a small resort with only eight rooms; we occupied three of them.  As usual, we had a big group with us-it was the first time since our wedding in ‘03 that all four Garcia siblings were together.

It was a most relaxing weekend.  We swam in the pool a lot and briefly in the sea, where Aya and I tried snorkeling.  As I anticipated, I had some major breathing difficulties.  Nothing life threatening in any way.  I just have trouble breathing through my mouth underwater.  I only stayed under for maybe 10 seconds at a time before I got paranoid feeling terribly claustrophobic or whatever kind of phobia means fear of drowning.  I really want to try diving but I’m not sure if I can get over my breathing issues.  I’m not really scared of going deep or encountering massive marine animals (except maybe a shark) but the fearing of not being able to breathe haunts me.  Maybe it has something to do with my normal breathing difficulties on dry land-my allergies, my deviating septum; breathing through my nose has been a problem for years so why shouldn’t this.

We also had some excellent food at Club Serena where we took all our meals.  I ate a lot but pretty healthily-mostly sea food, fruit and vegetables-although I did indulge in dessert both nights.  Ana and Chloe both went in the pool in their flotation devices.  Ana protested at first but once she got used to the water she had a great time.

It was quite peaceful with no television or Internet.   In order to get the news, we had to wait until the local papers were delivered at noon each day.  I got into the beach spirit and starting reading a short novel which I bought in Manila when we first arrived in the Philippines at the beginning of the month.  It’s a mystery narrated by an autistic teenager in England called “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.”  The narrator investigates the case of a murdered dog. (Ironically, a couple who we met this weekend told us that a dog was found dead on the beach at a neighboring resort.  It was believed to have died from poisoning but no one mentioned the possibility of foul play.)  The voice of the autistic boy reminds me a little of Camus’ “The Stranger.” The language is simple and a bit rigid and you are left with the overwhelming sense that the person talking to you does not think like a normal person.

Speaking of autism, I was thinking on the car ride home that a person with autism would probably have great difficulty living in the Philippines.  Things here are chaotic and random and there are few visible patterns.  Many streets are nameless or it is at least difficult to ascertain the name since street signs are scarce even for major thoroughfares.   Even many long-time residents who drive here can’t tell me the name of some streets.  To give directions you have to use landmarks; for example, to get to our house you travel down the narrow, windy and bumpy unpaved road and take a right at Lina’s store, and so on.  Many houses are not numbered either and the ones that are I suspect that people just pick their own numbers instead of being assigned by the city; they do at least follow a sequential order.  Not sure at all how mail gets delivered here but I’m pretty sure all of Aya’s family’s mail goes to their offices since they have no street name or number.

One last note about the weekend.  Yesterday, the resorts owner came into the restaurant and informed us that we were supposed to check out.  Apparently, there was some miscommunication and they didn’t know we were supposed to stay another night.  They checked and three rooms were still available but one of us would have to move because a new guest needed that room.  Of course, Aya, Ana and I were the ones who had to move.  We’re used to it I guess.  It wasn’t that difficult but a little annoying taking down the Pack ‘N Play and setting it up again.

Actually, one more random thought before I stop writing.  This is far from an exhaustive study nor is it scientific in any way.  It’s just a personal observation of minimal importance which I feel like sharing.  It seems that most of the keys here have to be employed teeth down in order to turn them in locks.  In America, it’s the other way around although some are teeth down in the U.S.  The room keys at the resort were like this as are the ones that open the gym lockers at Holiday Gym.

Overall, I feel much better about living here after the weekend.  It’s nice to be able to swim outside at night in January, and it’s good to know that this kind of experience is not far away any time I want it.  For those of you reading this who are currently enduring a cold winter in the States, I do apologize if this comes across as bragging.  I’m just trying to justify my decision here and every bit helps during this adjustment phase.

Don’t have much time to write while I’m here. No wi-fi at Mom’s house so I have to share the computer which is often occupied. Ana’s napping so this is the time.

It’s so quiet here at night that you can hear each second of the clock. Tick. Tick. Tick. Eerie, eh?

Didn’t expect to see snow so soon, but it doesn’t usually happen this early in New York. One snowfall was all I needed to remind me of how much I hate winter. Won’t miss it at all. Cleveland seriously has the worst weather. The sun rarely breaks through the clouds this time of year. It’s just grey, grey, grey.

One thing I do miss is the simple joy of leafing through the sports page with my morning coffee. I never buy the paper any more in New York, and wouldn’t find much joy in reading about the Knicks or Yankees anyway. At least here, I can read about my own teams. Usually, I get most of my sports news from the Internet, but something about the sports page brings me back to high school or something when the sports section was the only section that existed as far as I was concerned.

We’ve been going to the gym almost every day since we’ve been here.  Mom got Aya and I guest passes for the week.  It’s a sweet facility–just opened last month.  Was a Gold’s Gym, but has now changed to Urban Active.  I’ve gotten the chance to play some basketball since no one seems to use the half court that they have.  Unfortunately, I’ve just been playing alone.  The men’s locker room even has an XLERATOR hand dryer.

All the sudden, 55 degrees Fahrenheit feels really freaking cold.  I guess part of me is already in the tropics.  I won’t miss winter.

New York City can easily put one in an apocalyptic frame of mind. Take yesterday’s morning commute, for example. I’m sure all of you have already heard about how a rain storm shut down the subway system. Well, most of us still had to go to work, and we had to find alternative means to get there. I took the 7 train–the only train running out of the Roosevelt Ave. station-to Flushing, which mean I had to go north instead of south toward Jamaica. Then I had to catch the Q17 bus, which didn’t seem too bad at first. Then, when we got to Hillside Avenue, about 50 people got on the bus, making it standing room only. I was fortunate to have a seat. At that point, traffic slowed immensely. I wanted to get off and walk despite the heat, but it was difficult because of the crowded aisle, and the driver was only making limited stops anyway. I finally got off at 169^th Street, earlier than I would have, because I couldn’t take the crawling traffic anymore. The heat and humidity outside were brutal, but at least I was almost at work. The subway and circuitous bus ride took about two and a half hours-two hours longer than my normal commute.

Of course, this is not the first time the subway has shut down due to rain. Whenever there’s a strong and sustained storm, the tracks get flooded, and sometimes there is just too much water. (Even this morning, there was still some flooding in Queens.) It was either ‘99 or 2000-I was working at McCann-Erickson at the time-when this happened. I don’t think the entire system shut down, but it was really bad in Manhattan. I had to get from the Upper West Side, where I had come from a dentist appointment, to Midtown East. I ended up walking because the busses were jammed and cabs were impossible. By that time it had stopped raining so it wasn’t too bad. But it took a few hours and I was in no mood to work when I got to the office.

Besides the rain, this city has been shut down by a blackout, a transit strike, and of course September 11. For me, anytime the subway isn’t running, and the whole city seems like it’s vulnerable, it just feels like end times. Come to think of it, isn’t there a passage in Revelations about a nightmarish urban commute?

I’d like to tell you a survival story. But I cannot do that today. Last night, when I went to bed I had the ominous feeling that the world was about to cave in. At least temporarily. If you listened to the weather forecasts and read the hourlies on weather.com, doom was portended this morning. Will sensed it too. He e-mailed something about Ernesto, and when we spoke on the phone last night, we both had hesitancy in our voices, though I tried to seem confident in order to convince him and myself for that matter, that despite the gloomy forecast, we should not cancel or postpone our planned 20 mile run. I wanted to get it over with so I could enjoy the rest of the long weekend. I can be extremely stubborn especially when it comes to running.

I had trouble sleeping last night as I was not looking forward to running in a downpour with gusty winds for over three hours. Each time I awoke, I looked out the window. It wasn’t raining hard yet, but it was supposed to start at 7:00 am, our appointed time of departure. 7:00 came. Outside, it was barely drizzling. Just wait, we were all thinking but not saying out loud, holding out hope that the weather would hold. At least until we were done.

As it turned out, the much hyped storm and severe winds never came. The rain was steady at times, but never what I’d call heavy. For the most part, it was never stronger than a drizzle. The cooler temperatures actually helped to make the run easier, much easier in fact than the last few long runs I’ve done this summer. And the park wasn’t crowded at all; I think the forecast scared a lot of less intrepid runners away. We were warriors today at least in spirit. We all did the 20 miles: Will, his sister Peggie and me. I think we would have stuck it out if the weather was as predicted, but I’m glad we didn’t have to. If I had to do this by myself, I may have chickened out because of the forecast. Perhaps not.

One thing I’ve learned during the last few years of serious running and the complementary activity of compulsively checking the weather several times each day is that the professional weather prognosticators are quite often wrong. Usually looking at the sky is a better indicator of whether it will rain or not than listening to what the meteorologists have to say.

As I write this four hours after finishing the run on a bus headed through the Lincoln Tunnel on my way to Pennsylvania, the rain is just starting to pick up. I’m glad it waited.