Central Park…I love you

The first time I ran the New York City Marathon, I saw my City in a way I had never seen it before. I guess that is true for anyone who runs the Marathon, regardless of where you were born. Being inspired by New York City is not exclusive to those who are raised here like me. If I am honest, I rediscovered my City when I started running. And yes I am going to refer to it in the possessive because, even if I share it with millions of people, I am a part of it and it is a part of me, that is what happens after thirty-six and a half years.
Like a lot of born and bred New Yorkers, I have had moments of anger, frustration with my home. There can be times that it feels like people are standing on my chest. Moments when I can say like my friend James Murphy — “New York I love you, but you’re bringing me down”. New York has evolved and changed, independent of my observations and experiences. But what I loved so much is the rekindling of our romance when I did start running.

Thanks in part to New York Road Runners (and the invitations of some pretty women I have dated or tried to date), I have run in every borough — Queens, Brooklyn, Bronx, Staten Island and of course Manhattan. I have run almost every Bridge that crosses the East River, and I have run on the field at Yankee Stadium. But the place that has been the source of both my greatest running memories and my new appreciation for New York has been Central Park. Ask anyone that trains for the marathon here in New York City, putting aside all the qualifying races that lead you to this point, between the month of July and November, and I will become intimately involved with Central Park. There will be so many laps, spilled sweat, probably some blood and a lot of spitting and grimacing for everyone one of those loops.
The funny part is that despite the thirty plus years before I started running, I never really understood how amazing Central Park is. As I get older, I am more careful about what is “cool” in New York City. I think it’s down to this:
- Having an incredible meal at some small unknown place in Queens is cool.
- Finding people that read books is cool.
- Being out on a date and meeting a couple of guys and their sister from Scotland randomly in a bar on a Tuesday and getting way too drunk is cool.
- The Obama Family is cool.



It is a short list but Central Park, any time of the year, is the coolest place in New York City, don’t let anyone tell you different. It has been the one constant through the gentrification of New York and the changing neighborhoods. Central Park doesn’t need trendy restaurants and bars or luxury buildings. It is has remained independent of the greed that has infested New York. There is no price of admission, only trees, rocks, lakes, reservoirs and of course paths for bikers and runners.
That is why for anyone running the marathon for the first or the tenth time, Central Park changes us. People can describe the familiar landmarks, like Cat Hill, the Met, Harlem Hill and the Great Lawn. But running the park changes us and makes us learn it beyond just those quick snapshots. Maybe that is why the finish line for the marathon is so perfect. Most of these races take you around the park in one direction until you get to that day November when you enter the park and head downtown. It is the opposite direction of what you become accustomed to during those training races. Miles 24–26 are wrapped tightly with people that are cheering and smiling at you. What makes that day stand out are all those laps I took before that day when no one was out there, and all I had watching were the trees, the empty lawns, and the indifferent or angry bikers.
It is those moments that made me want to come back to the Park and appreciate it for what it is. All of those years in New York City trying to find the next great place and this massive park was right in front of me. I can go there for a run, to bike ride, to sit on a bench and read, to go to a museum or the zoo or just to lay down on a patch of grass and stare at the sky, all things you forget to do as you get older in New York City. Those laps around the Park in the sixteen weeks leading to November are a reminder of all the little subtle things that can get lost in the shuffle.
It is a reminder during all these training runs that I need to look up, that we all need to look up. Running made me better because I didn’t become myopic and because it opened my eyes to beauty and happiness around me. And as tough as things may seem, New York City is a reminder of what we are capable of. Looking beyond the lights, the concrete, the stone and seeing what matters. I was here for thirty one years before I started running so maybe I took it for granted but man it has been quite a honeymoon since I started running these streets.

