The Unexpected Bonus Of Running In The Rain

As the days grow shorter, getting in a decent run during the week is difficult. Especially if you have a job. So I have to take advantage of the weekends. When I got up to Central Park this morning around 11:00, which is late for me, it was pouring rain. (That didn't stop all the people waiting in line to see the Vermeer at The Frick, though. That line was wrapped around the block all the way to 71st Street for hours.)

Since I was already up there, I figured I would at least try the four mile loop in the rain. As I started running, I noticed something -- I was practically the only one there. Drizzle has the incredible ability of keeping all the fool tourists on rented bikes out of the park, where they cause collisions, and into the Arms and Armour room at the Met. Yahtzee!**

It was the polar opposite of Saturday morning when on three different occasions I had to tell someone on a bike to get out of the runners' lane. It's confounding that it even has to be mentioned. Riding a bike near people who can't see you from behind and likely can't hear you due to headphones is a bad idea. But we can't all be geniuses.

Eventually the rain stopped and I ended up doing the whole six mile loop (in well under an hour, thanks for asking) without having to deal with a single tourist. My iPod, however, seems to be obsessed with Christmas carols. 'Tis the season.

**It is often said that you know you are a true New Yorker when you realize you can't deal with tourists. If that is the case then I have been a New Yorker since the summer of 1998, when I was an intern at Elle magazine. The Wednesday afternoon Broadway matinee goers used to clog up my local lunch spots, which was maddening. It was then that I realized I could never live anywhere else.

An Afternoon Uptown And At The Met

I spent most of the day uptown, beginning at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. I saw that the Costume Institute had a new exhibit , so I hopped the 6 train up to 80th Street.

As expected, it was packed with tourists at noon, but the families who use strollers as torpedoes to push through crowds weren't as annoying as I thought they would be. I think that I can stomach out-of-towners after all.


The Costume Institute exhibit was my first stop. A bunch of very old dresses were on display, including gowns from Marie Antoinette-era France. There were also some classic pieces, such as one of the first boots Karl Lagerfeld designed for Chanel when he took over in the 1980s. If you like big, sweeping ballgowns, there were plenty of those as well. One of the more amazing pieces was an original CoCo Chanel shift dress from the 1920s. Apparently none were thought to still exist, but of course The Met found one.

Everyone loves Arms And Armour


I also checked out the musical instruments wing, which for some reason has never been open all the other times I have come to the Met. Notably missing from the section was the first Steinway piano ever built, which the museum had for years. Where did it go?

Also: the special exhibit about The Age Of Rembrandt is fascinating. It's basically an ode to assorted Old Dutch Masters and the many millionaires at the turn of the century who collected their works and then gave said works to the museum, including J. Pierpont Morgan and Benjamin Altman. There's even a Vermeer tossed in there, but if you blink you could miss it.

On the way home I stopped for a manicure and got my nails painted Scarlett O'Hara, for all you Essie fans out there. It's basically a sparkly red, and one of my favorites. Around 3:30 I had the novel idea to walk all he way home from East 73rd Street and Second Avenue. By the time I hit 51st, I was tired and decided to hop the subway.

And good thing I did, because at 14th Street there was this awesome band playing original jazz. I've seen these guys before and they're awesome and sell their CDs.


And now I'm home. Peppe is stretched out, catnapping and hogging the bed. All seems right in the world.