I'm Running. I Promise.

NYC

New York, post-Sandy, was like a broken hearted friend. There were bright and resilient parts where the atmosphere was tough and excited, then you’d pass through a part of the city where there was still no power and it was like intruding on a private and raw pain. You wanted to make it better and just BE there until they were ok.
I stayed in Brooklyn with Jessie Zapo where there was power, people and parties. Probably a little too much for Grandma Mei. Lower and midtown Manhattan were worst hit by the hurricane and when I cycled through LES (Lower East Side) on Friday morning with Jessie and Anna it was like passing through a scene from a zombie movie. It was eerily quiet; stores closed, barely any pedestrians, a few cars and no traffic lights. If people were driving, the cars moved slowly and cautiously.

That being said, if you know New Yorkers, you know that the storm, if anything, hardened the city spirit and the community was strengthened by the common struggle. Hundreds of people were crossing the bridges over into Brooklyn to buy groceries and charge their phones and the restaurants in Brooklyn on Thursday night were packed and noisy as though it was a Saturday night. And then, of course, Bridge Runners always bring party vibes. You’d never have known that Frankenstorm had just vacated the island.

Even before I left London to fly to the States, I’d been following the news reports and Instagram updates to see how the city was faring after the storm. For a while, I could only see blackout party photos and tweets and my friends out running in the dark in Manhattan. It seemed like genuine fun. There were screenshots of news reports with runners passing behind the correspondents, clearly not budging from their training schedules for the upcoming Sunday NYC marathon because of a bit of wind and rain. Someone even posted a photo of a man doing tricks on a jet ski behind a news correspondent reporting on the storm’s damage.

Then I saw the reports in the days following that covered the aftermath of the storm. Cars were submerged in water on flooded streets and there were burnt houses after an uncontrollable fire. Thousands were evacuated and without water and electricity. Parts of New York City were suddenly thrown into darkness and cycling through Williamsburg on Thursday night, looking over the water to Manhattan, the city skyline was silhouetted against the light from the moon and moonlit clouds behind it. It was surreal. Hands down, it was one of the weirdest experiences of my life because even before I’d ever travelled to America, the lights of New York City were so familiar to me through countless movies and tv shows filmed in the city.

My friends in New York are hardcore and resilient and, despite the struggle, showed Charlie, Bangs, Shameek, Darkz and I a brilliant time. We ate good, we ran (and cycled) good and we partied good.
I’ve dipped in and out of running since summer because I often lose patience for how rubbish I am at it. I never seem to be able to obtain that runners’ high, but it’s people like those whom I travelled to NYC with and the Bridge Runners that keep me wanting to try. Every few weeks I suddenly get a burst of motivation and I find myself in Lycra and running trainers and I work up a sweat pounding London pavement. I saw a physio in September who established that my left leg is shorter than my right as my left side is generally weaker and less developed. This is the reason why I’ve been getting pains in my lower back and legs, especially as my calves are very developed but the muscles in my feet have lost flexibility and my core strength has gone to pot since I stopped ballet five years ago.
So since this makes it a little harder to run regularly without injuring myself again and again (and again), I generally just don’t. But then, as I’ve been running for about a year, when I don’t run I’m very conscious that my heart rate is rarely given a chance to race. So I bought a bike and try to do at least 20 miles a week.
I packed my running kit for NYC but had something rattling in my lungs and everyone knows you shouldn’t exert yourself when you have a chest infection and respiratory problems. The running for the Rebel Run was left to those who are good at it and I tagged along on Jessie’s cruiser. In fact, because the subway was mostly out of use and because I’m not a baller and I can’t afford cabs to take me everywhere, I went everywhere on Jessie’s bike. In two days I racked up 45 miles cycling in Brooklyn, cycling over bridges in and out of the city, from Lower East Side to Midtown and back, from store to store and from one location to a restaurant, etc etc. (FYI, the bridges are WAY steeper on the Brooklyn side and the Willy B will WIPE YOU OUT if you’re not ready for it). I actually fell asleep at dinner after the second day because my body was like “jet lag and 45 miles don’t make sense, you twat”.

When we found out the marathon was cancelled, we were gutted. Runners take other runners seriously, so cheering is literally the best thing you can do if you’re not running the race. I love cheering. I’m really loud and you’ll definitely hear me. I’ll probably wave a banner or a cowbell at you too. It sounds really fucking annoying, but when you’re running a long distance race, people that cheer by the side of the road really pull you though it. The louder, the better. If you’re like me, you’ll go through parts of the race where you want to suffer it alone, but conversely, there’ll be other parts where you really need company and some stranger cracking their voice to scream the name on your race bib is such a heartwarming thing. We were out in NYC to do just that and we felt terrible for all the thousands of runners who have trained for months to be able to run 26.2 miles. We thought it was going to go ahead - it seemed so certain. We couldn’t question the decision to cancel it though. Logistically, siphoning tens of thousands of runners through parts of the city where there had been flooding and no power didn’t make sense. Also, when hundreds of people had lost their houses and people had died, it seemed immoral to stage a marathon when relief was needed to help the disadvantaged get back on their feet. If anything, leaving the decision so late was the most controversial issue. I kind of get it. I mean, the ING NYC marathon pulls in around $300 million every year, mainly because of the people travelling into the state to run or to support the runners. That’s money the city needs after a natural disaster, but it’s still not SAFE.
Anyway, with no marathon, the Bridge Runners got together with the Orchard Street Runners and staged a 13.1 mile race on Sunday over three of the bridges, ending at Bowery Stadium on the LES. Race entry was bottles of water and cans of food and any charitable items that runners could bring.

I had a great time this past weekend, hanging with friends, making new ones, meeting MIA and speaking to New Yorkers about their city. Occasions such as this give you great opportunities to learn more about the people we share time with and society itself. It gives you the chance to learn new perspectives and to strengthen your own character as you see the resilience of those around you.

Thank you to the Bridge Runners for these lessons and opportunities. I love all of the experiences I’ve been privileged enough to have come across through meeting you all and your company is some of the best in the world. There’s no two ways about it.
Thank you also to Sasha for being a lady who looks after ladies. That’s important and an often under-appreciated attribute to be in possession of. It was a pleasure to spend time with you.

Thanks to Darkz and Shameek for always running and always being excited about everything. It reminds me to take my head out of the clouds and put my feet in my running shoes.
Thank you lastly, but not leastly, to Charlie and Bangs for being who you are and helping me to be who I am.