Wednesday, March 10, 2010


Back from a long conference weekend in NYC. A few thoughts from my fourth trip trekking around the city.

(1) Why are all the advertisements with stock art on the subways of white men and women of northern European descent when only a small percentage of the folks riding the subway are white men and women of northern European descent?

(2) To walk around in south Central Park you need either (a) a baby in a stroller, (b) a dog, on or off a leash, preferably with some cutesy collar or something or other (you can tell the schleps are just waiting for you to stop and complement their canine--dumb), or (c) to be holding someone's hand. To hang out in north Central Park you have to be running. And if you're running around the reservoir, watch out--it's like a stock car track for folks with runners on.

(3) Midtown smells bad and I don't like it there. Times Square is just creepy. The Upper East Side, however, is a place I could live.

(4) Finally, I'm struck by the contrast of the mega-diversity of the city with the utter lack of diversity just an hour west on I-78. Why don't all the folks melting in the pot of Gotham ooze out into the surrounding...wherever?


Having to spend the weekend in NYC allowed for another shot at the Central Park early morning race. I love it. The city is just barely coming to life and we're throwing punches on the six-mile loop round the park. And the view is just fabulous. I love looking up over the trees and seeing the varied and excellent architecture of all the (I'm sure) high rent residences surrounding the park. Fun, fun.

The last time I raced the park (which was also the first time) was three years ago. On that day I pulled off a lap-long solo-break (chase) to finish fourth, a couple of minutes behind a three-man break and just seconds in front of the closing horde.

This time I wasn't so fortunate. Us non-sprinters have the race-long burden of trying to get something going. It takes a lot of energy. So the day was full of initiating and bridging to ill-fated breakaways. The best shot came with about two miles to go. A lone wolf blasted off the front. I bridged. He gave up. I stayed off the front until about 0.75 miles to go. But then I got swarmed. And then it was over.

But it was a good time.

I love racing bicycles.

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