As I mentioned last week, for the next few weeks on Thursdays I am going to re-post some of my favorite older posts. The ones that felt important to me while I was writing them and the ones that touched me while I was re-reading them.
This week's re-post is comes from two years ago, just around this time. I was packing up my life in Manhattan and preparing to move north to our new house. One morning, about a week before we moved, I went for my habitual morning run in Central Park and I knew that it would be one of my last ones. So I ran my loops that I had run every day and when I started to leave the park and got to the top of the hill that led towards home I turned around and took a last look at the place that had become my home.
And then, I wrote this.
***************************************************
Farewell, Old Friend
When my alarm went off this morning, I was completely exhausted. I considered resetting it so I could sleep for another hour, but I didn't. Instead, I got up, donned my running clothes, and made my way to the park to run. And I am glad I did. Because this morning, more than any other morning in recent memory, I was thankful for my morning routine.
This is my last Friday in Manhattan. On Monday morning, assuming we are not all washed away by the monster storm headed in this direction, the movers are coming to pack up our apartment, and move us to our new house.
And I am ready.
I didn't feel ready last week, or even a few days ago, but now I do. We have been busy these past couple of days. Finishing up the construction in the new house, organizing the apartment for the move, and buying the many, many things that one needs when they move into a new house. And with all the preparation, I started to get excited for our new place, and our (semi) new life.
And on this last Friday, I am thinking about my life in Manhattan, and my favorite place in the city. I have written at length about my love of Central Park. But now that I only have two mornings runs left, I am feeling the loss of my favorite place even more acutely. I know that there will be roads to run in my new home. I have even begun planning routes. But they won't be in this park.
This park is a part of me. This is the place where I fell in love. Where I learned to run, and more importantly, where I learned to love to run. It is the place I go to think and to feel. To process, and to enjoy.
And on Monday, I will run its roads one last time. For an hour, I will forget about moving vans, and construction, and new houses, and change, and I will run. I will join my army of runners and circle the loops that have become my home. And as I exit the park one last time, I will glance back for just a minute at the place that has shaped me, and made me, and helped me find my way.
I am forever grateful to Central Park.
Farewell, old friend. I'll miss you.
No comments:
Post a Comment