The storm has quieted. Both the literal one as we recover from the havoc wreaked by Hurricane Sandy on the tri-state area, and the figurative one as disappointed and displaced marathoners turn their energy and attention to pitching in and helping out in and around New York City.
No one has had an easy go of it: Neighborhoods are still without power and running water, and of course the weather has suddenly gone cold, leaving those without heat to suffer even after so much loss already.
My heart is broken for my friends and neighbors who are climbing back to some semblance of normal life, to the small-business owners who are desperate to make up for revenue and supplies robbed of them by the disaster, to the houses and beaches disappeared in my adopted state as well as my home state.
Still, running around my battered city has been one of the only things to help me maintain some sanity and digest the raging feelings and nerves that have kept me up these past few nights. An hour of peace, of time alone with my thoughts and my breath, of shy smiles to people out doing the very same. Working it out, burning off the anger and frustration, even just escaping the dark for a little while. I'm grateful that I have been able to get myself out of bed and into my sneakers, and I'm heartened to see my fellow New Yorkers do the same.
We'll come through this: We are New York Strong, New Jersey Strong. Remember that recovery, like life, is itself a marathon, not a sprint. Just keep going. You'll feel relief eventually.