After yesterday's adventure, I needed to shake my legs out a bit, burn through last night's panettone and cioppino, and clear my head. Today's forecast is nasty: big storm warning and all that. A blizzard warning in NYC is usually a joke, but this one seems like a clear enough indicator of real weather. The first flakes fell right as I turned the corner onto 215th; there was at least a half inch of accumulation by the time I shuffled my way inside 45 minutes later.
Another reason to love my neighborhood: there were probably a half dozen serious-looking runners in the park. We were all running pretty uninspired loops. Something safe on a slippery-slidey day.
The wind is picking up. The flakes are getting bigger. The snowploughs are scraping and salting their way up PTE.