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I live in New York City. That means, on a normal day, there is always someone doing something more interesting, fantastic, and ambitious than I am.
And today was no ordinary day, it was the New York City Marathon, when type A personalities from all over the world descend on my city and run like the wind.
By the time I prodded my bleary self out of bed and sorted out the kids? Runners were already waiting at the foot of the Verazano Bridge in Staten Island ready to make the 26.2 mile trek thought the city to end in my 'hood in Central Park.
I was going right near there this morning, needing to deposit Jacob at Hebrew School yards from the park at 10. The city was eerily both bustling and empty, the sidewalks more full than the streets, cars and cabs heeding the snarled traffic warnings and steering well clear of the marathon route.
When I got home I Tweeted and Facebooked a version of this message:
I've gotten 1 son off to Hebrew School & fed them both, but still have yet to shower. Meanwhile? People have already won the NYC marathon. Possibly they are more ambitious than I?
And I got a lot support. I was joking. But also? A wee part of me felt bad for not being out there handing out Gatorade and waving, shouting encouragement to those
Especially the autism awareness runners, including my friend Jess's husband Luau who came in from Boston and ran with his hair dyed BLUE for autism awareness. No not kidding - look:
Today the weather was perfect for a run. Records were broken. Ethan and I watched on TV and cheered the winners on, happy to be type B armchair athletes in our warm, sunny apartment.
And yes, I got my shower.
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