The window for essential NYC Marathon training is fast approaching, and since I've been lax in my deliberate preparations, I've been keeping my morale up by considering the incidental training I squeeze in every day.
Is it fair to count the sprint I often have to make from work to the train station at the end of the day?
It's only about three-fourths of a mile from my building on Sixth Avenue to Grand Central. A brisk walk will get me there in little more than 10 minutes. But if I'm running late, look out fellow pedestrians! There I go, sometimes still sporting a tie, swinging my bag to my side, making a beeline through Midtown.
In a pinch, I can make it there in seven minutes, which necessitates an extreme workout, my heart racing as I leap onto the train between the closing doors. I've even started wearing sneakers to work so my feet don't get pavement-mangled in my dress shoes during the workaday jog.
Surely this is better than nothing, but perhaps "training" is too strong a word. Still, on the few days that I'm not running TOO late, and I've got the sneakers, and I'm traveling light, left the laptop at home, and it's not too hot and humid in the city, the run comes close to being enjoyable, brief as it is.
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