Take me out to the ball game

Man I am tired today. We didn't get home until 1:00am last night and I was up at 6:30am for work. But it's the good kind of tired, from a weekend of running and road tripping and baseball game watching and hot tubbing and ice cream eating. Good times, good times.

Saturday morning, Eric and I started running at 6:30am and got in about 15 miles. Then, Mike and I went to NYC with his cousin and cousin's girlfriend to see the Yankees game. Mike is a big Yankees fan. I am not a big fan of any team, or sports in general, but give me a plastic baseball hat filled with soft serve ice cream and I'm happy. Plus, I think you should always say yes to road trips, especially if you're not the one driving.

There's something quintessentially summer, and American, about baseball. I wonder if there's anyone in America who has never been to a baseball game. It seems like one of those universal experiences. I am fascinated by how some people are so fanatical about sports. They talk about it like they're actually on the team. It's interesting how people develop such loyalties to a particular team. I've never had that inclination myself, but it's nice to see people enjoying their passions.

Usually when I go on vacation, I daydream about how awesome it would be if I could live there. But whenever I go to New York City, it makes me glad I live in Rochester. It's such an exciting, non-stop, overwhelming city. Great to visit but I wouldn't want to live there. I always forget how crowded and gritty New York is, how the first thing I want to do when I leave is wash my hands. I'm definitely not a big city person. And, as much as I love adventure, I also love coming home again. So I guess I must be doing something right here.

Lyric of the moment: "And you said, this is the first day of my life. I'm glad I didn't die before I met you. But now I don't care, I could go anywhere with you and I'd probably be happy..."