Brian Fidelman/The New York Times Pleasing scenery can punch up a routine run, and one recent Sunday I was treated to a majestic view of the Calvary-St. George’s Episcopal Church at Park Avenue and East 21st Street.
This 1848 brownstone beauty, situated just a block from Gramercy Park, is straight out of an Edith Wharton novel. No, really. She belonged to this church, and the Web site claims it was a setting for “The Age of Innocence.” The Roosevelt family worshiped there as well.
Designed by James Renwick Jr. in the Gothic Revival style, the church was not just the finest sight on my run. It was the only sight. I was on a treadmill at the New York Health & Racquet Club across the street, staring out the window as I ran.
Not everyone is a fan of the treadmill. Some of my Times colleagues would sooner suck in subzero air for an hour than run in place for 10 minutes. The dreadmill, one called it. A recent Times column by Gretchen Reynolds backed them up, concluding that exercising inside just isn’t the same.
Even so, when it’s cold I opt for the temperate air, predictable terrain and precise pacing of — O.K., fine — the hamster wheel.
As I migrate back outdoors, my go-to route will be along the Hudson River. But whenever I can I will take my unlimited MetroCard and a $10 bill and go somewhere. Anywhere. My goal is to explore unfamiliar places, or familiar places from a new perspective.
I did this in 2009, recording my observations in a column called the Roving Runner, and I had a blast. I ran laps around Governors Island and Roosevelt Island. I got lost in Inwood Hill Park and went barefoot in Central Park. There was a tennis run and a baseball run and an unforgettable jog along Chicago’s waterfront. It’s urban exploring and heart-thumping workout, all in one.
Back inside, I’ve been building a base of fitness for the coming outdoor adventures. The treadmills at some gyms, including some in this chain, leave you staring at the wall or a mirror or the television. The sight of the church across the street, however, is hypnotic. The second-floor view encourages a runner to get lost in the exterior details, the clerestory windows, the red doors, the little annex to the left.
On this particular Sunday I started quite slowly, not much faster than a walk. But each minute I hit the up arrow to increase my speed slightly. I could barely tell the difference from one minute to the next, but over time I went from too slow to just right to faster than my comfort zone.
For the first couple of miles I had the TV on and was half tuned in to a Sunday morning talk show, which featured two politicians debating Washington’s automatic spending cuts, known as the sequester (turns out I wasn’t the only one spinning furiously and getting nowhere). Once I reached warp speed, or my own personal version of warp speed, I removed the headphones and focused ahead.
As my legs moved faster and my stride lengthened I tried to visualize some of my favorite runners — Haile Gebrselassie of Ethiopia, Paul Tergat of Kenya — and how they seem to glide effortlessly at impossibly blistering paces. Even though I was now moving quickly, I tried to imagine that I was still jogging, keeping my upper body relaxed. My goal is to make this faster pace second nature in races.
There was a light reflection on the window, not enough to see my tired eyes, but enough to keep my form honest and allow me to self-correct should my legs or arms start swinging out.
Every minute I went a tenth of a mile per hour faster. I zeroed in on the roof of the church, zipping along and feeling a bit of a rush from churning my legs so fast.
At last I hit 4.5 miles, and pressed the cool-down button to wrap up the run over the next few minutes.
After I left the gym I crossed Park Avenue to catch an uptown bus. There is a speaker by the door of the church, right at the bus stop. As I waited I heard the pastor concluding his sermon, which was about salvation. Next, the choir sang a sweet hymn. I looked back across the street at the runners in the window above. New Yorkers — parishioners and runners alike — were making something out of their Sunday morning.
The M3 bus pulled up, and off to work I went.
What are your favorite runs? Please share the best trails, neighborhoods and routes below.
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