It's almost 1:00 a.m. and I have been awake for 19 hours. In that period of time, I scarfed down some toast and half a PowerBar, powered through two loops (and a little more) of Central Park's main running course for 13.1 miles or so, scarfed down a bagel at the finish line, cheered for the TNT runners, spent three hours at a board meeting for a nonprofit I volunteer with, shopped for groceries, ate dinner, had drinks with friends, and saw the one and only Lady Gaga in concert at Radio City Music Hall.
I am pooped.
I want to tell you all about the Manhattan half-marathon. I do. And I will. But not right now. Now I am icing my knee and heading to bed.
But if you must know: 1:33:23 / average mile: 7:08.
Holla.
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