When you’re a runner in New York City, you’re never alone. But after days and days, and months and months, and years and years of running, those morning adventures can start to feel, well, lonely.
For the longest time, I chose to run only alone or, at times, with my cousin — we used it as time to catch up after the week, where we could gossip on the day and make decisions for those to come. But come Monday, I’d find myself looking forward to a solitary excursion, ready for a bit of quiet, some peace of mind, and some time to think it all through. Admittedly, my brain would sometimes go blank, but other times, I could write a novel that’d rival any on the bookshelves of Barnes and Noble. The quiet of New York City before 7AM offers sneaky wisdom like that.
More recently, I’ve branched out. I’ve made friends in the running community. I’ve even committed to a few mornings on the road with them. I’m not sure why — maybe it’s an older-and-wiser type of thing, or maybe I’m just in a difference stage of my life — but I’ve really come to enjoy these morning runs with friends, both new and old. They’re my motivation. My inspiration. The reason I run longer and further than I otherwise would. The reason why I manage to get out of bed when my alarm actually goes off. The reason why the rest of my day is as sweet as the Argentine Caramel Gelato I discovered at Fairway on Sunday.
Happy Hump Day!
- How about you? Do you prefer running alone or with a buddy, and why?