One of the big athletic gear stores near me is having a warehouse sale right now and it's an absolute frenzy of capitalist mayhem. Middle aged women clawing eachother for a pair of $40 Asic Nimbuses (Nimbi?) and half price technical fiber windbreakers in reflective fabrics. The tennis freaks keep to themselves over on one side of the room when it comes to raquets, but when it comes to the cute little tank tops, it's a free-for-all. A woman next to me held up a pair of what looked like Nike jazzercize shoes and asked, "Would these be good for marathon training?" Before I could answer I was frantically grabbing at a rack of 75% off baseball gloves just too keep my balance as my knees were plowed into by a stroller cum battering ram. I glared at the woman pushing it, but had to admit that she'd found a pretty effective method of getting though the crowd.
The last few 9/11s have been marked by a long run down to ground zero and back, so I felt a bit empty about not being able to do that this year. I liked that the weather was wet and muggy and nothing like what it was that day. The day didn't seem to carry the burden of quite so many echoes that way.