I spent St. Patrick’s Day exercising. Terrible.
On St. Patrick’s Day, it was warm enough to go bike riding for the first time in 2012. We went to Spring Lake, New Jersey, which, in addition to a really nice boardwalk, actually has the largest Irish-American population on the East Cost. We didn’t know that until we got there, though.
I took work, school, the book, and stress, and sealed them neatly into a little envelope in my mind, and focused on riding.
The sea was on our right. It was so cloudy you couldn’t see anything, but you could smell the salt, a little bit, and feel the sea wind the whole time on the board walk. There were a couple of people surfing. Everyone else was walking by dressed in green, headed to and from the bars. Their dogs were wearing green bandanas. It created a strangely festive atmosphere.
We went maybe 9 or 10 miles, which is nothing on a bike. But the sea wind was really cold and we hadn’t exercised outside this year yet.
It was nice to be by the sea. It was nice to be traveling. It was nicer to not be in Philadelphia and in my own head.