Dear Hurricane Irene,
Bug off. Or should I say, blow off? You totally ruined my morning run. I was up early, really trying to fit in a little huffing and puffing before you showed up all uninvited and pushy. Sure, I saw you coming in, as I rounded the top of the Reservoir and looked south, over the city. I saw the faces of other joggers as the ominous clouds got darker. I saw everyone pick up their pace, I saw panic on their faces, and then as if it were the Armageddon, I saw the sky open up and there I was, running (re: drowning) for my life. Not cool.