It's been just over one month since the marathon, and I must say, flexibility is a wonderful thing. I think I've cycled and run more frequently than I ever have when on a training plan (though perhaps each individual workout is not as long), mostly because I don't need to worry about scheduled rest days or how one workout might affect the next. If I'm tired, I go slower. If I'm feeling good, I go faster. If I have time and the Park is empty, I go longer. It's been a relief to let go of all the rules and restrictions that come with trying to achieve a specific goal.
My entire weekend was filled with such moments of careless abandon, and I think this could explain why it was so enjoyable. On Friday night at around 9 pm, I decided, on a whim, that my stub of a new fourth toenail deserved some polish, and I headed out the door for a late-night pedicure. On Saturday, after a solid bike ride in the Park, I learned over my morning cup of coffee and newspaper that the Central Park Zoo has its
first new exhibit since 1988 -- a pair of snow leopards! Neither Zdenek nor I have ever been to the Zoo, a somewhat odd fact considering that it is a 20 minute walk from our house. Though I knew it would be filled with tourists, baby strollers, and screaming children, we decided to have a go. And indeed, I'm happy that we did. The leopards, monkeys, and penguins did not fail to disappoint, and it was an unusual and refreshing way to spend the afternoon.
The main attraction
Saturday night was truly the icing on the cake. Zdenek and I enjoyed a three hour eating and drinking extravaganza at a neighborhood restaurant,
Dovetail, that we have been meaning to try for months. The tasting menu, both in terms of quantity and price, was quite simply over the top. It was definitely an experience that comes around every few years, if that, because to do so more often would somehow detract from the luxury of the experience (not to mention put a serious dent in our pocketbook). The highlight of the evening was, without a doubt, the sautéed foie gras served with huckleberries, fennel, and a graham cracker puree, paired alongside a sweet chenin blanc. If it's possible to experience a food high, I did.
The next morning, during our 12 mile run (through which we may have just barely worked off the foie gras calories alone), Zdenek and I saw several extraordinarily fast men and women who were displaying rippling six packs and toned legs. As I trudged along in my oversized tank top and shorts, sweating like a pig in the 100% humidity, I knew that I will never look like those uber-fit speed demons (let alone run as fast as them). That reality didn't really faze me, however, because dammit, I can have my foie gras and eat it, too! The weekend was capped off with a Sunday evening rooftop garden party on the Upper West Side, where a few of the who's who of the literary, publishing, and fashion worlds mingled beside me in my Banana Republic dress. But I wasn't really bothered, because it's been far too long since I've sipped
Pimm's outdoors.
I managed this weekend to also let go of something that's been nagging at my emotions for quite some time. I did this in a rather unexpected way -- I simply
let go, and then didn't consider it again. I think this allowed me to truly concentrate on and experience the rest of the weekend's delights in a way that would not have been possible, for example, last weekend (or the one before that, or the one before that…).
I acknowledge that my entire weekend could be described as one of self-indulgent luxury, and, in case my mother is reading this, she should know that the fact that I am truly blessed is not lost on me. But while the foie gras and the Pimm's were a treat, they weren't absolutely necessary to reinforce that, by definition, letting go is liberating.
