I walked 10 miles yesterday! It had been a life goal for about a week before I decided to do it.

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The High Line

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A lot of wind on the West Side Highway

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A lazy duck and a busy TV/film crew

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We shot an episode of “I Want To Work For Diddy” here, except in much worse weather

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A tugboat pulling a freighter, and Lady Libs, under a great sky

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I love this little cove, in Battery Park City

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Borrowing someone else’s shot in the Financial District

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A storm was chasing me across Brooklyn Bridge, and nearly caught me

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Cobble Hill charm. A topiary locked to its stoop.

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Reward from Sweet Melissa Patisserie

I started to think it would be both possible and not that hard for me when I worked in a post-production facility for a reality TV show deep in the West Village. Tourists to New York never seem to know how attractive and interesting the West Village is, and that’s probably why the neighborhood remains both attractive and interesting. Anyway, rather than use buses — clean and pleasant though they definitely are — or rely on two subway transfers to get me to work, I walked a mile cross-town going to and from work every day from September to April. On top of that, as a PA, I did 6-8 runs every week. Eager to explore the narrow, shaded streets of the West Village and weary of the local 1 train (with stops ever 5 blocks, creating a tendency for delays), if the run wasn’t pressing and my workload was light, I walked. And when I came home, I entered my routes into a pedometer. On a rainy day with a lot of work and one run, I walked 3 miles. On a gorgeous day with several runs to do at my convenience, I walked 6 or 7 miles. Then recently, after a long day of running simple errands, my pedometer indicated I’d walked just under 9 miles. Why not 10, on purpose? I thought. Why not indeed.

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