Irene has come and gone and while it was promised to be worse, it largely was true to the Greek meaning of its name (peace.)

I was running outside soon as the winds dropped and the rain was gentle. It was a gorgeous post-storm morning, fresh and crisp. I am running with Hemingway this year and as the warmth of the sun started to beam down on the cloudy New York downtown, it dawned on me that I was reading (well, listening to) "The Run Also Rises", Hemingway's 1926 novel about the american expatriates in Paris who travel to Spain to watch bull-fights.

Such is life. Wilde storms and beautiful coincidences.