I am in Atlantic City. In March. On a Tuesday. Deduce what you will from that, but one thing's for certain about my brief jaunt here: I'm thinking up a storm.
The wittiest quips and true clarity of thought usually come to me during brisk walks around urban environments, and although I was encased in a glass dome today, hitting the hotel fitness center on full power caused a vortex of vision. I had several treadmill revelations: my average walking speed is classified as "valley jog," I enjoy random judo-chopping, and running in striped pajamas is just as good as in spandex. I experienced stationary bicycle inner peace: damn, I'm good at this. And lap pool nirvana: why are they taunting me by playing only the music of "Rock the Casbah?" Whatever, I'm down.
Ever since my own personal recession set in the second I set foot in NYC, I banished my old Crunch membership and their 3-story atrium tube slides and Vitra furniture from my memory. Then I said a temporary goodbye to my big bike, which had for several years been carried up and down 3 stories of stairs by me on a daily basis, and which has successfully pedaled me through two marathons and given me the endurance to complete the "Hustle Up the Hancock." Now, with the exercise endorphins racing, I resolve to return. Chicago, I will see you in July for L.A.T.E. Ride.
I'm going to round up 2009 the best way I know how: by travel. So taking a page from the playbooks of TheVole and Kottke, here (chronologically) is My Year In Cities, 2009.
