A quick uptown subway ride and I was at 57th Street and a short walk to Central Park. If it had been a
little warmer, I would’ve crawled up on one of the sprawling rocks just inside the entrance, pulled out my knitting and just soaked in the tranquility of the park, but it was just a little chilly. I wound my way around the western side of the park, past the Heckscher Playground and Ballfields and along the western edge of Sheep Meadow. My goal was Strawberry Fields, which I overshot by a few blocks. I got my bearings around 77th and headed south and found the entrance. The trees in the park were a little past peak, but it was still wonderful to just walk along and scuff my toes in the dried leaves.
I was going to slog over to Knitty City after my walk through the park, but at this point my sleep deprivation was starting to kick in, so I decided to go cruise past Rockefeller Plaza and head back to Penn Station early in hopes that I could catch an earlier train (I couldn’t). They were still working on the decorations for the tree-lighting ceremony and the crowds were starting to grow. The best part was that Josh Groban was doing his sound check of ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’ as I was milling about. Being able to hear that alone was worth being jostled by the crowd. Wow. Just…wow.
After applauding with the rest of the crowd, my body decided enough was enough and started to quit on me, so it was off to Penn Station where I could collapse for a couple of hours before heading home. I couldn’t keep my eyes open long enough to knit in the waiting area so I wrapped my body around my bag and sacked out
until they called for my train.
Overall, I’m glad I went. The NASCAR side of things was a little disappointing. I’d do it again, but I would do it a little differently, including risking being on Good Morning America because it’s clearly better to be at the beginning of the Victory Lap than at the end, when they’re being hustled inside. I’d pack less (HA!) because I dragged around crap that went untouched for 12 hours. I’d try to have less of an agenda or set schedule. I keep saying this and I keep failing miserably in attempts to achieve it. Hope springs eternal.