On the tennis team in the ninth grade, we ran laps, sprints and drills until exhaustion. Unhappy that we were starting to drag by the end, my brilliant coach moved our running down the hill from the courts to laps around the soccer field where the boys' soccer team was holding practice. Our pace picked up, our knees lifted higher, and spring stayed in our steps. And we felt energized.
And, um, one more word: OMAC.
I'm imagining 26.2 winding miles of screaming pom-pom-ed New York City should have a similar effect.
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