No trains or buses running. Sporadic and unpredictable down pours of rain. No restaurants or bars in my neighborhood. What do all of these things have in common? Combined, they are the perfect recipe for complete and utter boredom during a hurricane.
Despite my desperate attempts to lockdown a Hurricane Boyfriend, after my jog through Brooklyn on Saturday, I pretty much became a prisoner of my own home and a slave to Netflix, bedding down and waiting for the second worst possible thing to happen to New York City, second only to the Second Coming: Hurricane Irene.
Not wanting to miss a single moment, I found myself dashing to the window every five minutes, expecting to see the train tracks falling to the ground under the weight of the rain or possibly a taco truck whirling by in the wind like an image stolen from the Wizard of Oz. But, alas, I saw nothing but rain. Sometime shortly after 3 am, my body overpowered my mind and to dreamland we went.
I had set my alarm for 7 am (I really didn't want to miss anything!) and when I once again stumbled over to our looking glass to the outside world, the rain continued, but from what I could deduce through the rain-splattered pains, Bushwick, Brooklyn, still seemed to be in tact. With all seemingly right in the world, I laid back down for a few more hours of rest. Being up at 7 am is for the birds, especially on a hurricane weekend when you don't have a Hurricane Boyfriend!
By the time I reemerged from slumber around 10 am, the rain had completely stopped, but the wind still wafted strongly through the trees. After scrolling through news websites and seeing that New York handled the battering of the storm with ease, I decided to assess the damage throughout Manhattan and Brooklyn myself. I laced up my running shoes, still wet from the previous day's trek, threw on my Bronx Half tank in remembrance of the race that never was, and mapped out a little 15 mile run between the two boroughs. I have been stuck at the half marathon distance for what seems like all of eternity and I was determined to break that thirteen mile threshold and what better way to do that than with a little site seeing?!?
For the second day in a row, Irene wrapped NYC in a thick blanket of white clouds, preventing the sun from seeping through and smothering us with her humidity. The streets were emptier than a typical Sunday, but I definitely wasn't the only one with the same idea. Others obviously also wanted to enjoy the city in its post-hurricane serenity. The bridges were once again walkable. Restaurants and bars began opening up. Stores started putting their wears back on the sidewalk for passers-by to peruse. By nightfall, Irene was just a fleeting memory.
Along my 15 miles, the only evidence of destruction I witnessed was the shedding of major leafage, a few downed branches and some minor puddling. For all the hype that this hurricane received, she definitely didn't live up to expectations... which is a good thing. After this dress rehearsal, hopefully NYC will be better prepared for the real curtain call...