TWO YEARS IN NEW YORK (Michael Mohr's Fictional NYC Covid Memoir)

Chapter 19 (PAID)

Photo by Eryka-Ragna on Unsplash

Chapter 19

Then it was February, 2021.

It had become a brutally cold, snowy winter, many locals telling me it was the coldest and snowiest in a decade. Certainly compared to the previous winter—2019/20—it was intense. The year before, when I’d been living in Harlem, there’d hardly been any snow at all, just a few days with paper-thin sheets. Some rain. Temperatures in the thirties; maybe a few days dropped into the high twenties. This winter had brought a few major snow storms, including a blizzard which dropped over a foot of snow. The temp dropped down into the twenties, even the teens. Hardcore rain. (Of course all of this was from the perspective of a spoiled Southern Californian.)

Despite all of this weather I continued to run multiple days weekly. I pulled on my REI gray long-johns, my shorts…