Despite all of the concrete and steel, New York has yet to disappoint me with its more natural offerings. Yesterday, I met up with a good friend who I hadn't seen since December in Central Park. Weird that life is coming to that point when you don't see people you're close with for oddly long periods of time...Anyway, I brought a book expecting to get in some reading, but the scene was just too distracting to take in anything else. We were conveniently stationed by a tunnel, under which a man played his saxophone (with multiple renditions of The Pink Panther, I might add).
I went back this morning for a run, and was even reminded of home. Climbing on the rocks and just slowing down to take in such a pure environment within a city of absolute madness was just what I needed.
Today, Madison Square Park served as a significantly smaller, yet just as satisfying venue.
Moral of the story: Go play outside. Really, it's fun.
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