Right after the Run for Mercy, I packed my bags and boarded a train with seven good friends for a relaxing few days of child-free fun in lovely New York City. The train was the perfect way to get there. It is about a 7 hour ride, which gave us plenty of time to talk. At first we were doing that kind of frantic talking that Moms do because they know they will be interrupted at any moment by a child needing something. Then we remembered, No Kids!
Four of us awoke bright and early Sunday morning and boarded the ferry to the starting line.
When I uploaded the pictures to my computer it loaded the ones from the camera Scott had at home with the camera I had in NYC in the order they were taken. So, while I was making my way to the starting line, Scott was engineering the bike ride to church. When I got home, he told be they rode bikes to church and it took me a minute to realize, "...but, how?" Leave it to Scott.
Back to NYC, this race is run by firefighters in full gear. It's really cool.
And Army regiments run in it in formation.
I loved this firefighter dad carrying his little man.
The race goes through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel (which feels so long and can feel a bit claustrophobic if you remember the tunnel is under water...). As you come out of the tunnel there are West Point cadets, each holding a banner for a firefighter or police officer killed on 9/11.
There were also several school groups singing patriotic songs. The whole thing was an awesome experience.
Finished!
After the race was over it was time for the fun to begin. We started with Billy Elliot on Broadway followed by a late-night dinner.
Breakfast the next morning was glorious if not a tad expensive. $9 for my OJ. It was fresh squeezed, but still.
Is it a girls' trip without pedicures?
No, it's not.
Back at the farm, the kids were being entertained by a tree being taken down in the backyard. I think Scott even made them some popcorn.
The next day some of the girls took the early flight but some of us stayed until later. We went to St. Patrick's Cathedral
.
Apparently, while I was being born, John Paul II was in NYC at St. Patrick's.
30 Rock, baby!
And then it was time to head home and kiss my husband's feet for letting me get away for a few days. Same place next year ladies?
