one of the six dozen public-address systems along the half marathon route began to thump with the piano notes at the top of "empire state of mind" as i made the turn from seventh avenue to forty-second street. i'm guessing it played once every ten minutes for three or four hours sunday morning, but there was something undeniably inspirational about how jay z kicked in just as my metrocard completed its intimate migration down my running shorts (when i am a second-time half-marathoner i shall wear pockets). last week i speculated that i became a real new yorker when a fancy pigeon pooped in my armpit; i now know that the magic happens when one runs through times square with a metrocard in one's ass. excelsior!


LPC said...

More <3. You can hang them around your neck. xoxox.

lauren said...

You can hang them around your neck.

man, i'd lose my credentials even faster than i'd earned them! DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR.

seriously with the pockets, though. for staten island in october i'll have pockets.

theRachel said...

You just need one of those tiny pockets with a zipper and you'll be all set. No more swassy metrocard for you.