Old Red Trek

It’s the wind. It’s the sweat. It’s the 6,855 feet of the Manhattan Bridge. It’s freedom and speed and creating my own path. It’s the sunlight that glints off the buildings at 8:30am, into my sunglasses. It’s the East River, 100 meters below me, somehow blue, somehow beautiful. It’s the bulky men carrying metal slabs in the Brooklyn Navy Yard, it’s the men with wooden boxes of fish in Chinatown, it's the kids walking to school with backpacks and ipods, it’s the smell of bacon and coffee on Lafayette. It's crispy in the fall. It’s the white of my knuckles and the clench of my calves. It’s 35 minutes there, and it’s a slower, leisurely 45 minutes home. It’s the ultimate Lisa time.