Blown away

Zdenek and I are both suffering from illnesses at the moment, and when the alarm went off this morning in the dark hours before sunrise, my head throbbed as though I had been punched repeatedly throughout my sleep. We stumbled out of bed to brew our usual cup of Tim’s (stores have been replenished following our trip to Canada last week), but questioned whether a run was really the best idea.

We live on a rather gusty block of the Upper West Side due to our proximity to the Hudson River. In the summer the strong breezes off the water offer a welcome respite from the otherwise stale and humid air, but wintertime typically finds us running to the shelter of our doorstep to avoid the icy chill blowing through us. This morning, however, we were greeted by an unseasonably warm wind (18 degrees Celsius!) as we stepped outside, and my shorts and t-shirt seemed strangely appropriate for December 3.

The skies above hung low and dark, but in the East -- towards Central Park -- the first rays of the morning sunrise poked through. The clouds, tinged with silver, moved eastward at a formidable clip; we chased them, the wind at our backs. And then, ten minutes into our run, I looked up to find that half of the sky had cleared. By three miles, the sun had risen and the clouds were entirely blown away. Manhattan was bathed in blue skies and fresh, warm air -- as though the rain clouds had never passed through at all.

Today’s 10k turned out to be respectable but too difficult (and hours later, I still feel like crawling back into bed). But bearing witness to this morning’s skies -- and the extraordinarily quick turn of events overhead -- made it worth the effort. I treasure runs like today’s. If only my sickness would change course as quickly.