Thursday, November 30, 2006

Saturday, November 18

Scheduled workout: 10 pace, 8:25 per
Pre-run snack: Something unwise, maybe a cupcake; then again, I waited 1-1/2 hours before running, thereby avoiding any ill effects
Weather: 50ish
Route: Miles 6-16 of the NYC Marathon route [up Fourth Ave., right on Lafayette, onto Bedford, Manhattan Avenue, Queensboro Bridge...]
Real workout: 10 faster-than-pace, averaging 8:15s
Comments: I just couldn't get myself to slow down today. Even though I knew I was going faster than was the plan, I felt good and strong, and kept challenging myself to run the next mile 'a few seconds faster.' I can't recall what exactly was my fastest mile, but I think it was around 7:50, which isn't ideal for a medium-length run (for me). I slowed down significantly toward the end, even w/ the downgrade of the second half of the bridge--an indication that I can't hold such a clip for all that long, and that I'm better off staying closer to race-pace, w/o all the variation. Tomorrow's 10 (swapping my Friday run for Saturday's, as an 11:00 AM Saturday brunch in Manhattan w/ Uncle Bob does not favor a 10-miler beforehand, especially when Progressive Snack 2006, Round I is on the books for Friday eve) is another pace run, and I plan to shoot for consistency.

Anyway, even w/ fleetfeet, it was a pleasant run. I admired the tree-flanked Lafayette as it took me through sleepy Fort Greene, and memories of two summers ago came flooding back as I entered the Hasidic section of Williamsburg. (Wouldn't you know it: noon on a Saturday. It not being summer and all, I was less offensively dressed.) Bedford Avenue held all the familiar spots, many of which I do not miss, some of which I do a little. Next up, Greenpoint, where I stayed the course on the seemingly endless (hadn't realized) Manhattan Avenue and sidestepping dozens of Polish-speaking women/men/babies/dogs/rats. Man, the bakeries en route looked and smelled fantastic. Next time.

Once in Queens, I had an ounce of trouble finding my way up to the pedestrian bridge, even though I'd run Queensboro more than once. No worries. I eventually succeeded, and while I was ready to be done by this point, I could still appreciate the views of the approaching Manhattan, not to mention Roosevelt Island (which incidentally has a nice-looking trail encircling it) as I ran directly over it. I was wishing I'd taken my camera along, but there'll be others.

Once in Manhattan, I realized I was too late for Pilates class at the shmancy Midtown club where I had a guest pass courtesy of my generous boss. No matter; I don't really like Pilates.
Besides, missing the class meant that I'd reach my second destination that much sooner. Yes, so it was on to the 52nd Street Norwegian Seamen's Church that I'd happened across earlier that week. Wouldn't ya know it, my timing was excellent: Their annual holiday bazaar was a mere four days away.

I walked in and was at once greeted by two kind old gents and the sweet & spicy aroma of glogg. Further in, the ladies and their crafts materialized, including the trademark sweaters, scarves, and mittens. There were handmade greeting cards, books on Norway, and a decent assortment of CDs. There was a little of this and a little of that. There were Christmas ornaments, handknit children's clothing, food... lots of food. Mostly chocolate and homemade baked goods, but I spotted some gjetost and pickled fish, too.

What struck me most about this event was the visibility of community. Everyone knew everyone else, and there was an easy liveliness to the conversation around me (almost all of it paa Norsk; I understood some). When I went to pay for the few items I'd picked out, I was tempted to speak the language, but my insecurities won out in the end (my accent--so bad!) and I went w/ what I know best. I did tell the nice kvinne at the register that I'd studied Norsk in college, had been to the country, etc., and she mentioned that the church offers a few language courses that perhaps I'd be interested in. We'll see. Not for awhile, anyway. (Recall failed attempt #1 earlier this year.)

I lingered for an hour, exploring the upstairs library then making my way back downstairs for an adorable performance of the Christmas story (again, in Norwegian). Jesus was 'played' by the sweetest little month-old baby; one of the angels repeatedly ran off the stage, calling out "Mom, are you watching?"; and the shephards kept trying to get naked. Classic.

I walked out of there feeling warm (although technically I was freezing in my shorts & tee) and holidayish. Very soon after, a small potted tree was purchased from our neighborhood Home Depot.

There was a final stop: this. It was huge! All sorts of independently published books and 'zines: arty, comic, political--you name it. If I hadn't been so cold/tired/ready for a shower, I would've stayed longer. As it was, I lasted about an hour, walking out of there a winner.

Then I went home and did nothing. :)

Posted by princess kanomanom @ 12:29 PM