I didn't do a Dia de los Muertos run this year. I guess I only do them on odd numbered years. I've had my share of reminders of mortality this past year, but as November dawned, bright and windy, My thoughts were elsewhere.
I did get out for a nice run on Sunday, November 1. After sitting around the room at Benedictine Hospital for longer than my sanity allows, I made my escape.
Kingston is the urban center around here, and I run there at least once a week. The companionship is always top drawer, but the courses are boring. It's not Kingston's fault. Group runs need to be easy to follow, safe throughout the year, and provide convenient cut off points. These constraints don't always lead to stimulating scenery.
Every time Kay and I drove to Benedictine Hospital, or the doctors' office nearby, I thought about how neat it would be to run on these hills above the Rondout Creek. Maybe not every time. Driving to Benedictine on Saturday morning, as Kay's contractions had turned sharp, I can't imagine I was thinking about what a neat place this would be to run.
As we were in the labor and delivery room, the obstetrician told Kay this would like be a marathon. Most women I know who have given birth, and run marathons don't tend to compare the efforts. We know how far a marathon is. After 26.2 miles, no one is going to tell you you're not there yet. Kay's marathon was not a bad one, and in fact did take about as long as running a marathon. At 3:03 PM on Saturday October 31, Claudia entered the world crying vigorously. I'll never forget the power of that moment, though for once I'm at a loss for words.
There's so much to learn, so much to do, but by late Sunday afternoon, it was time to run.
I headed south towards the Rondout Creek, the southern border of Kingston. This interesting section of town is under-used by local race directors. Nick Mercurio put on a nice autumn half marathon a few years ago, but now I can't think of any races held here.
The area had previously been an independent village. Rondout had it's boom period while the Delaware and Hudson Canal was being built from 1825 to 1830. This boom continued as the port was an important transfer point for Pennsylvania coal, Kingston bricks and cement, Catskill Mountain bluestone, and Hudson Valley ice. All these resources traveled from here, down the Hudson River, to the rapidly expanding and industrializing cities to the south.
A few decades later, railroads had taken some of the load, and the boom had quieted. Rondout merged with the larger city of Kingston in 1872. Now it's just a neat part of Kingston, with parks, restaurants and museums.
When I first moved to the region, I thought I would come to the Rondout frequently for running and entertainment. Having settled across the river, it turns out I'm rarely here.
After trundling down a series of steep hills, I make my way to the Rondout Creek. I head west into a bracing wind. This section of creek is wide and gentle. Many boats are anchored here. I realize I have always enjoyed living and running near water, whether it was the harbors and kills surrounding New York City, or the scenic creeks of southeastern Pennsylvania. I wonder if Claudia will grow to enjoy the Hudson River and its tributaries as much as I do. Damn. I keep hearing that Doris Day song in my head, and remembering the scene from "The Man Who Knew Too Much", when she bellowed it out as a warning.
Claudia's first Hudson River crossing was Monday, as we brought her home. Of course it meant nothing to the sleeping infant. My other best girl, my parents dog Snuggy, has paroxysms of joy when she crosses the river. She knows it means a visit to my house, and probably some excellent walks and trail runs.
After heading west for a good 20 or 30 minutes I reach a bridge that crosses the Rondout. I don't think it has a name, but it is a nice steel arch structure, a small cousin to the beautiful spans in Sydney, Australia and Bayonne, New Jersey. I cross the creek into the town of Esopus. There is a small settlement here, including some of the old stone houses for which Ulster County is famous. A house on the creek side of the road also features gorgeous gardens. The trees here in the Rondout Valley still have leaves and color. Aside from some oaks, we've been leafless for a while back home in Northern Dutchess.
I cross some freight train tracks, and eventually take a left turn to stay close to the creek, as the other road veers away. I get briefly lost amid the marinas in the hamlet of Connelly, but finally find my way to the bridge that will bring me back into Kingston. This is a nice suspension bridge. Those of you who started this day making the long crossing of the Verrazano Narrows might find this bridge unimpressive, but when it was built, even this modest crossing was spanned best with a suspension bridge.
The bridge offers an excellent view of The Strand and the mouth of the Rondout. Night has fallen, and I can also see the lights of Broadway, and midtown Kingston. The only thing left is to climb the hill, and find my way back to the hospital. The 1:17 run is just what I needed, and Kay and Claudia are still sleeping when I returned.
Claudia is a week old now. It's amazing to experience the daily changes. I've managed two more runs in the week gone by. Both were brief trail runs by the Sawkill Creek and Hudson River. Since my parents are visiting, I ran with Snuggy. She won't be spending lengthy vacations here for a while, so we enjoy these runs while we can. They were nice runs, but it sure is good to get back home.
Steven
Cangemi
Red Hook, New York