I shouldn't say bad. Saturday really wasn't "bad" it was just a lot different than I thought it would be.
Enter: Saturday morning, 3 am. I spring out of bed two minutes before my alarm is set to go off. I dart to the living room, open the shutters, and check out what's going on outside. Several inches of fresh snow are covering the ground. The cars are indistinguishable from one another parallel parked on the far side of the street. It's still coming down in flurries. I rush to my computer and check the hourly forecast in Philly and New York. Unlike 6 hours prior, at 9 pm when I went to bed, precipitation chances have dropped below 100%. In fact the snow doesn't appear to even have started in New York yet. Excellent news. Time to go!
I'm out the door by 3:20 am, walking the dogs to get the car. They are extremely confused as to why they are going out this early. They rather be sleeping (me too maybe). After cleaning off the car, driving to the apartment, and dropping the dogs back inside we are on the road at 4 am, exactly according to plan.
I'm slightly concerned at this point about the weather, but my logic tells me that though these neighborhood streets are bad and I have to go about 5 mph on them, the highways will be salted, cleared, and much faster. Good thing we're only a half mile from the on-ramp.
A funny thing happens when I get there: the roads are not salted, plowed, or anything of the sort. Interstate 95 looks just like the street my apartment is on. The few cars that are out at this hour are swerving and twisting all over the place. I'm barely breaking 30 mph on the New Jersey Turnpike. I begin to realize this probably isn't going to turn out the way I want it to.
At 5 am NYRR posts on their Facebook page that the Manhattan Half has been turned into an un-scored fun run. We've gone maybe 40 miles at this point. I make the decision to turn around. I'm disappointed. I feel like racing, but I would also be up for a relaxed fun run through Central Park because its someplace new. Unfortunately, even if we continue to drive forward, we will most likely not make it in time anyway and we may have trouble getting home. It's just not worth it.
Mike offers to drive back home, which is good because me hands are stiff from gripping the steering wheel so hard navigating through the snow and ice.
We arrive back home at 6 am, curl back into bed, and sleep for another two hours. The rest of the day consists of playtime in the park, unfulfilled intentions to still run 13.1 miles on home turf, online shopping, and a trek out into the snow and ice to find dinner.
All in all, not a bad Saturday. But oh, what it could have been!
Enter: Saturday morning, 3 am. I spring out of bed two minutes before my alarm is set to go off. I dart to the living room, open the shutters, and check out what's going on outside. Several inches of fresh snow are covering the ground. The cars are indistinguishable from one another parallel parked on the far side of the street. It's still coming down in flurries. I rush to my computer and check the hourly forecast in Philly and New York. Unlike 6 hours prior, at 9 pm when I went to bed, precipitation chances have dropped below 100%. In fact the snow doesn't appear to even have started in New York yet. Excellent news. Time to go!
I'm out the door by 3:20 am, walking the dogs to get the car. They are extremely confused as to why they are going out this early. They rather be sleeping (me too maybe). After cleaning off the car, driving to the apartment, and dropping the dogs back inside we are on the road at 4 am, exactly according to plan.
I'm slightly concerned at this point about the weather, but my logic tells me that though these neighborhood streets are bad and I have to go about 5 mph on them, the highways will be salted, cleared, and much faster. Good thing we're only a half mile from the on-ramp.
A funny thing happens when I get there: the roads are not salted, plowed, or anything of the sort. Interstate 95 looks just like the street my apartment is on. The few cars that are out at this hour are swerving and twisting all over the place. I'm barely breaking 30 mph on the New Jersey Turnpike. I begin to realize this probably isn't going to turn out the way I want it to.
At 5 am NYRR posts on their Facebook page that the Manhattan Half has been turned into an un-scored fun run. We've gone maybe 40 miles at this point. I make the decision to turn around. I'm disappointed. I feel like racing, but I would also be up for a relaxed fun run through Central Park because its someplace new. Unfortunately, even if we continue to drive forward, we will most likely not make it in time anyway and we may have trouble getting home. It's just not worth it.
Mike offers to drive back home, which is good because me hands are stiff from gripping the steering wheel so hard navigating through the snow and ice.
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| Happy Mike - "I get to go back to sleep!" |
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| Sad Kristin - "I hate giving up" |
All in all, not a bad Saturday. But oh, what it could have been!
As I was being a wuss and running on the treadmill yesterday morning, I wondered about you and the race. They had clips from New York and I wondered if they were still going to have that race...I would've been disappointed too but better safe at home!
ReplyDeleteSounds to me like you made the right decision -- driving that far on roads that bad would have been miserable at best. You'll just have to run that one next year. ;)
ReplyDeleteBummer
ReplyDelete