Jogging in 65-degree clear blue sky weather is just what I needed to unwind after a long day at work. In fact I jogged every day last week along the East River Park. But I was a bit offended when I met up with Ben for sushi and he was flabbergasted that I went for a jog. He didn't think I did anything remotely active. I mean, seriously, did you think I was naturally blessed with this body? OK maybe "blessed" is a bit of a stretch - the only thing I was ever blessed with was flab over my six-pack abs (I KNOW my six-pack is there somewhere.)
As much as I enjoy my jog, the only annoying thing about running by yourself in NYC is the gawking. Nothing to be flattered about, the gawkers can be divided into 2 categories: 1) Chinese men older than my dad who stare at you up and down as you run past them (if my dad ever did that to other girls I'd throw up on him) and 2) high school punks who say "hey momma" (eew you are young enough to be my kids if I were a delinquent teenage mom which your mom probably is and if I had a son like you I'd run myself right off the Williamsburg Bridge.)
OK I guess I, too, have done my fair share of gawking. But how can you not when you run past a human stick figure with the best rack money can buy - double D spilling out of that skin tight sports bra which made me turn around to pick up my jaw off the ground...or that hot I-banker (I know for a fact he works on Wall Street by the crimson Harvard tank top he was sporting that showed off his muscles which glistened and bounced with every step)...or that middle-age Monica Lewinsky look-alike with a full blown camel toe - no make that moose knuckle (Hey lady, the 80's called and wants its spandex back)...or that quintessential New York corporate guy - flabby, fifty, and pasty -"jogging" slightly faster than grandma on a leisurely stroll, with a cell phone in one hand and a Dunkin Donuts iced mochalatta in the other (buddy - you might as well give up now and just staple your stomach before you get gout)...
Being directionally challenged, I decided to follow this cute blonde running with her iPod. She looked like she knew where she was going, and I could tell Weight Watchers was really working for her. 15 more lbs to go and she can pass for a poor man's Jessica Simpson (post Nick Lachey divorce but pre lip collagen injection). I ended my 50-minute jog with a lemon icing cupcake from Babycakes right around the corner from my apartment. After that long jog, I WILL have my cupcake and eat it too!