When I lived in Singapore, there was no noticable change in seasons. There were two seasonal states really - sweat through your eyelids, or sweat through your eyelids and your hair. But in NYC, the beautiful thing is that you can feel the seasons slowly turning and groaning their way along.

Today, running in Central Park, I could feel spring seeping into my pores and waking my skin up. The air just feels different. The trees still look naked, but you can smell them changing, the soil stretching, and things just coming to life. I even saw a lone daffodil blooming amongst its shy bretheren. It almost takes a person's mind off a craptastic run.

Almost....

I'm not going to be too hard on myself. I almost didn't go for a run at all, since I have a friend coming over to play x-box 360 with me (I'm going to get him addicted teehee). But then I looked out and saw the day and convinced the godlike part of my brain to yell at the lazy satanlike part of my brain to "Get out there and run before that sitting-on-your-arse activity of playing x-box Star Wars Lego with a good mate and a beer at your side!"

So I did. Now I can look foward to an afternoon of killing stormtroppers and watching their little lego heads fall off. Good times.