She said: On the one

Florida was just hot enough. Cotton ball clouds and azur skies. A swimming pool looking out on the water. My brother and his fiance goofing on the dock. My mom temporarily in love with a mangy cat named Matilda. My sister and her fiance (tell me about it) in quiet repose, reading side by side. My dad riding off on a little red scooter.

The running was a relief. My legs felt tireless as we put in, back to back, 7 miles and 8 miles. The last day, I shuffled around the housing development for a solitary 3 mile run, taking in the setting sun, nestled among purple and orange layers.

On the other hand, there was something infinitely comforting about returning home. The bustle and grind of JFK and Penn Station. And the following day, the packed, jostling subway. On the one train, heading down to Chelsea, ordering steamed dumplings from Spice. Waking up to gray skies and lacing up my running shoes. Heading down the West Side Highway one more time. Knowing every curve, every bump, the slight rise and fall of the road.