Midnight Madness

Times Square is often referred to as the “Cross Roads of the Universe” – or the ninth circle of hell depending on who you’re asking. The tourists certainly dig it considering they come from all corners of the globe to speak in funny languages while standing in the middle of Seventh Ave. staring and pointing at things.

I hate these people. Most New Yorkers do, and that’s why anyone who’s lived in the NYC more than a few months would rather do algebra or visit Nebraska then spend a New York minute basking in TS’s garish neon glow. But true to my contrarian nature, and at complete odds with everything runners hold dear, doing loops through Times Square is probably my favorite running route on the planet.

The lights, the crowds, the fact I spend most my run avoiding being clobbered by cabs - it doesn’t make sense with the 10 minute mile Park Loop set. Most runners enjoy the ability to zone out on a run and just coast through a nice mindless jaunt – that’s not happening when you’re weaving through a crowd of Europeans in skin-tight jeans taking pictures of the M&M store. You’re head is on a swivel as you’re picking out the holes three moves in advance – cutting right past the giggly French chicks, just before you juke past a stinky bum, so you can jolt into a red crosswalk just between a gypsy cab and a Carolla with Pennsylvanian plates that’s paying more attention to the giant Virgin Megastore sign then the fact he’s half a second from getting a new hood ornament. It’s like the running equivalent of Devin Hester taking back the opening kickoff of Super XLI.

So despite the fact I didn’t leave my office until 11:30 tonight, I strapped in and tore up and down Broadway tonight risking life and limb to put in a quick six. Is a midnight tempo through the most congested area on the planet for everyone? Considering the only other person I saw running was most likely a shoplifter I’m guessing probably not. But running isn’t about going slow, or fast, or long, or hard, it’s about what motivates you to get out there. Different strokes for different folks playa.