When I first moved to New York, almost nine years ago, Central Park was intimidating. Its winding roads were unfamiliar to me, and I lived in fear of getting lost in its woods. I didn't understand the walkers, runners and bikers that would circle its paths, and tried to stay away from it as much as I could.
But then something happened.
It started when David and I met. He loved Central Park and exploring it alongside him, the Park became a little less of a scary place.
And then, I learned to run.
If you live on the Upper West Side of Manhattan and you run and you don't like stopping every two minutes for traffic lights and dodging sundry pedestrians, you really only have two choices. You can run the path along the Hudson river or you can run Central Park. Preferring to not run on a path that also borders what passes for a major highway in Manhattan, I chose the Park.
That choice started a love affair with Central Park that lasted until we moved out of Manhattan eighteen months ago, and continues today.
And lately, for some reason, I've really been thinking a lot about my old running home and my early morning Park excursions to greet the day with my habitual three mile loop.
In honor of the place where I learned to run, and learned to love to run, here are my three most favorite Park pictures.
I miss you, old friend. I hope I'll be seeing you again soon.
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