Finding the Pony in Central Park

As the runs have gotten longer, coach and I have tried to find ways to make them entertaining so that our excitement for the training doesn’t wane. We did a six mile run along Avalon beach and a twelve mile run in Center City, Philadelphia. I did eleven miles in my hometown of Anderson, IN and fourteen miles in Louisville KY where my daughter lives. It takes some time and planning, especially since these runs are taking 2 and 3 hours at a time. Recently, we had trouble fitting our fifteen mile run in over the weekend so we did it on a Monday afternoon. This was not our best idea. It was hot and humid and we both had already put in a full day of work. We ran on a local road with lots of hills. We made relatively good time, 3 hours 11 minutes, but we both got too dehydrated and over- heated. I was sick for an hour after the run. Even worse, my left knee started hurting and over the next two days deteriorated to the point that I could not walk without limping or even climb stairs. I started self-treating with ice and ibuprofen and just hoped for the best.

We had planned to do our next long run of fourteen miles in Central Park, NYC. This was 6 days after the ill-fated fifteen mile run. The morning of the run was beautiful and the park was bustling with runners. My knee was better, but far from good. I wanted to run in the park so badly. I wanted to be a part of all the energy and activity. I wanted to experience this with Coach.

I wanted the Marathon more.

I bowed out. I knew that by running, I was putting in jeopardy any hopes to participate in the marathon. My knee needed more time to heal and rushing the process could have completely derailed my training.

My mother used to say that I was a “Where’s the pony girl”. It’s an old saying used to describe someone with an eternally optimistic attitude. The story goes that a little girl walks into a barn full of horse shit and she looks up at her Daddy and asks, “Where’s the pony?” My life has sucker punched me in the gut on more than a few occasions and I have lost that little girl. If I were to walk into a barn full of horse shit now, I would probably say, “Other than me, who’s going to clean up this mess?” Well, that day at Central Park, I’d like to think that I got a little closer to the person I used to be. I let go of my disappointment and decided to find other things to enjoy in the park. It wasn’t hard to do.

First the people watching: I saw people of all races and nationalities enjoying themselves in different ways. Some were running and walking, of course, others were riding in horse drawn carriages, doing yoga, and competing in large groups of Simon Says. I saw people boating in a small pond with a gondolier and a woman playing classical music on a violin. There were 3 bongo drummers, two black men with long dreadlocks and one white guy in a basketball jersey and a baseball cap. There was a very fit father running shirtless in bike shorts while pushing two kids in a stroller. I saw him twice.

Second the sights: I saw the Dakota where John Lennon lived and died. I saw his “Imagine” memorial in “Strawberry Fields”. Coach and I were contemplating just how many of the Beatles’ songs were written while they were high and concluded that probably most of them would fit that billing. We put Imagine and Let it Be on top of the list. There are parts of the park that are wooded, parts with lakes and ponds, and parts with ballparks and playgrounds. There were statues of all sorts, everywhere. Funny how many of them are posed with their arms in the air. Elation or exhaustion?  Victory or surrender?

Third the experiences: I went swinging. I got really high just like I used to do when I was a young girl. I lasted all of 30 seconds before the nausea set in. Not to be deterred, Coach and I decided to ride the Merry Go Round. The price was right, only $2.50. I had the outside pony, he had the middle, and some other woman was on the inside. It was a long fun ride. Coach tried to be friendly to his fellow rider by inquiring, “Ride here much?” She looked slightly baffled and confused. Maybe she didn’t speak English. A photographer took our picture. At the end of the ride we checked this out but had to reject it when we were informed that they had no way to photo shop my waistline or his chin line. We succeeded in making ourselves laugh even if none of the other people around us fully appreciated our humor.

I enjoyed watching a very fit father running shirtless in bike shorts while pushing two kids in a stroller. Wait, did I already mention him?

 That day in Central Park I feel like I not only found the pony, I rode it!!!