Last night, coming home from work (which is already in the 11-hour days range due to seasonal deadlines), I thought I might cover my bike. A tingle in the back of my mind, though, said don't do it, man. Don't cover that bike up. Just for tonight. Odd, but I listened to it.
That turned out to be a stroke of good fortune in a morning otherwise filled with shit. I did manage to lever my ass out of bed at 5 a.m. and after my morning pre-run routine, opened my front door at 5:30 a.m.
And was greeted by a bright flash of lightning and a peal of thunder.
Stepping out onto my stoop, I was nearly blown off by a mighty gust of wind. A few seconds later, fat raindrops began coming down, quickly increasing in intensity. My bike was rocking back and forth on its kickstand. Had the cover been on, it would have acted like a sail and my bike would have gone right on over.
This was the start of what will no doubt be remembered as the Storm Of Ought-Seven. You may have heard a little on your own news that New York got a little wet between the hours of 5:30 and 7 a.m. You might also have heard that exceedingly high winds mistook the finer neighborhoods of Brooklyn (i.e. Bay Ridge and Sunset Park - MY neighborhood!) for a trailer park and channeled themselves into something the National Weather Service is declaring "the strongest tornado ever to hit New York".
It managed to rip off some roofs, turn cars around, uproot cords and cords of previously-growing firewood (read: trees), and dump a hell of a lot of water on all of New York in a very, very short time. The result: chaos.
Fortunately, I was smart enough to be convinced not to go running in this storm. It was already hot and humid, even at 5:30 a.m. - 77 degrees and 88% humidity - and the storm rolling in just seemed like a bad omen. So I went back to bed and skipped this opportunity to continue training for the NY Marathon. I am thinking that this training thing is not going well. Everything is getting in the way, EXCEPT my health. My motivation is lacking, I will admit...
When I finally got out of bed for the second time and got going, it took some time just to find a subway entrance that wasn't closed. The bike was not an option - I could barely breathe just walking, much less trying to exercise my way to work. I hooked up my upstairs tenant and we went to a different subway entrance together. This local station would extend my commute on the best of days, but today, my commute turned into a two-hour odyssey, including sitting for a half-hour at Delancey while they fixed our broken-down train. Sitting there with the doors closed. In a crowded, hot subway car. Standing, actually.
And the lines are still fucked up. Commute home took 80 minutes. The MTA sucks. I will attempt the bike tomorrow, because I can't afford a 90-minute commute if I can do it in 50 minutes by bike - I have work to get done!
I hope to post more positive things Friday, including a positive report of a good solid run.