My alarm goes off at 5 AM, but lately I’m already awake to dismiss it. I’m not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, but I love solitude and on the streets of New York, if you want to run mostly alone, you have rise before the sun.
I sleep in two stubby, curly pigtails so I can just slip on a headband, my uniform of cropped microfiber pants, one of my beloved and now-discontinued Duck sports bras, t-shirt, fleece, and ugly but sublime-feeling New Balances. I keep a mug of cold coffee by my bed that I down like medicine, before grabbing my phone, Metrocard and head out the door. Continue reading
