Darkness.
Complete darkness. The clock shows in blue numbers 5:55 am. Suddenly, the alarm
bell rings. No it doesn’t ring – it tears up the peaceful silence. The
horrible sound of an iPhone alarm bell. Drowsy, you jump into your clothes. No
light, as your eyes are still in sleeping-mode. Carefully, you descend the
stairs. Outside. Fresh air, maybe even a little bit chilly. You can hear the silence
of a megacity. You can feel the calmness of a city at sleep.
6:00
am. Slowly you start to move, step by step, and eventually begins to run. A
proud smile glances over your face. You are doing this. You are really doing
this! Everybody else is still in their cozy beds, while you are conquering the world. Alone. No problem. While the megacity is
sleeping, you are running. Running in the dark. Running to Central Park.
On
your way, empty streets. Only sporadically some cabs pass by. Some dog walkers
are already in the streets, trying to motivate a crowd of sleepy dogs to move. And of course, garbagemen, collecting mountains of garbage. When New
York is at sleep, they save the city from drowning in garbage. Suddenly, you
are wondering if this is really a good idea: isn’t it dangerous to go to
Central Park? In the middle of the night? At least almost in the middle of the
night? Is it even allowed? Whatever. Now, you are already awake. You will try. You continue running. Still darkness. Still silence. Still calmness.
6:10
am. You reach Central Park. You break hard and come to an abrupt stop. Puzzled. Surprised. You blink. You
blink again. Are you dreaming? You don’t believe your eyes. It is like entering
a new world. “New York, the city that never sleeps!” comes to your mind. It
must be this what people mean when they say this. It is not about partying anywhere
at anytime. It is about this here. Central Park is bright as daylight. Times-square-like floodlight. Nobody sleeps. Central Park is more crowed than on a sunny and warm
Sunday afternoon. Why you stopped? Well, in order not to crash. A group
of crazy bikers is speeding down the main road. And people are running
everywhere. In any direction. They are not only running, they are sprinting! In
no way comparable to the Sunday afternoon runners you see when strolling through the Park during the weekend. This here is serious. Running,
running, running. Faster, faster, faster. Maybe, if at all, a quick glance on the watch:
still on time? And continue running.
Your
proud smile vanishes; no conquering of the world for you today. Everybody else is running already. During the first meters, you are concentrated on trying to
survive this race here. But at some point, you start feeling the spirit. Almost
unnoticed, you increase the pace. You start passing people. People pass you. Busy,
concentrated, everyone for themselves. After a while, you are able to process more of all these impressions. You start realizing that New York’s entire diversity is on these Park paths. Thin people, corpulent people. Fast runners, slow runners. This is not
a race. This are just people running in Central Park. Normal morning heroes. Like you. And that’s
why you are now part of it. Part of New York. Part of the New Yorker morning heroes. You are (or at least feel like) a
real New Yorker.
6:30
am. Maybe 6:40 am, depending where you started. You reach the reservoir. First,
you run up north. Don’t look around yet. Keep the tension. Only now, now that
you make a left turn, you realize why you wanted to come to New York. Not to
visit New York, but to live in New York. You see New York’s skyline. You see
the sunrise. And you see the combination of both. Real real New Yorkers just keep
running. But if you do this for the first (but only the first) time, you will
stop. I bet. To see, to enjoy, to be astonished.
You
continue running, now southwards. You see the sun rising, flooding the skyline
in warm redish light. You start hearing traffic – ambulances, police cars and
their lovely sirens. You start sensing the city’s bustling activity. All of
this is still far away, but yet still there. You are running, watching a megacity waking up; watching
from the “island” Central Park.
7:00
am. You return home. Your flatmates are still sleeping. Pushups. Sit-ups. Pushups. Sit-ups. Taking
a refreshing shower. And then breakfast. Fresh fruits. Fresh orange juice. And of course, a bagel. The day may start. With a smile, the
knowledge of being a real New Yorker, and the resolution to do this again.
Maybe... No definitely!
(P.S. No pictures this time - an incentive to try out yourself!)
