Left the office (52 and 6th ave) at 610 pm Wednesday. Destination: Brooklyn. Specifically Carroll Gardens/Cobble Hill. It was a hike, but hey, I've been going to the gym. I'm vain enough to take off my shirt and try to lean into the right light in hopes of seeing the beginnings of a six pack, so had bad could this walk be? Attempting to not stop at any lights and keep moving (and stay warm), I dart down 6th ave, bobbing and weaving among other walkers. It's not really THAT cold. The i-pod mini is in my pocket, but between the gloves and winter hat, it'd be too much of a hassle to fire it up. And I hate hassles. Clad in sneakers (new!), jeans, long johns, three shirts, my winter jacket, winter gloves, and winter hat, I'm actually warm. I would arrive home with three wet shirts - but strangely I didn't know they were wet while walking home. By the team I had reached Houston (pronounced HOW-ston - it's a New York thing, don't ask) and 2nd ave, I was still moving. Occasionally clock-watching, I was feeling it. I had made it here in well under an hour. I got the impression I could actually make this walk on a nice spring day. In fact, for a moment, I grew angry that I had moved from 29th and 3rd to Brooklyn (blame the girlfriend). That's only a 30-minute walk from my office! The biggest problem is I sweat. Bad. In the summer, I dread rolling out in just a t-shirt because I'll start to sweat and it's sort of humiliating. Then, the struggle began. It seemingly took forever to reach the Brooklyn Bridge. I must have asked 3-4 cops how much further it was, just out of sheer desperation. Still not cold, but now cramping up in my hammys, I decide to dip into the bottle of water I had yet unopened. Also, my shoulder bag was starting to make my back sore. Neck wasn't feeling great, but hey, I only had 10 more blocks to go. I refueled on a small snack at the base of the Brooklyn Bridge - without stopping, of course - my favorite candy in the world, Haribo gummi bears. I didn't chew them up, but rather sucked on them to prolong the taste. Seeeing homeless bums on the streets, I wondered how on earth they could deal with this weather all the time, and then thought to myself, 'hey, I don't have it that bad. Quit complaining and tough it out.' So here I was at the Brooklyn Bridge one hour after starting my trek. I pulled the hood up anticipating wind on the Bridge, but the gusts never came. I was at my slowest pace heading uphill on the bridge, but really, it wasn't terrible. I occasionally turned around to check out the magnificient downtown skyline. I've always fancied the skyline ... back in the day, when I had a car, and I'd drive down the FDR and gawk at the skyline. So nice. Big buildings rock. At the end of the bridge, I enjoyed a tiny free cup of hot chocolate (pretty darn good), and even though I spilt some on my new gloves, it didn't matter. I started saying to myself, 'and down the stretch they come!' in the voice of a sports announcer and tried to pick up the pace. I finally reached home at approximately 8 p.m. Just in time to watch the utterly lame yet hypnotic 'Deal or no Deal.' I checked the distance on mapquest and it said 8 miles ... but I can't imagine that's right. I didn't walk down the FDR, so I'd chop off three miles and say my total was about five. I know I'll sleep well tonight, and as for tomorrow, well, let's just say I'll be taking a cab part of the way to work.