Jersey - Part II

I’d like to share a story about New Jersey.

I realize my first Jersey Jog Blog entry was rather defensive. As warranted as that may be (and you would understand if you were from Jersey), I think it’s appropriate to share in this entry something great about my home state.

Though there are many great things Jersey has to offer (yes. many.), there is one story that sticks out in my mind:

During my junior year of college, I studied in Florence, Italy for the entire spring semester. It was an incredible experience for many reasons, but one in particular, was because I had the ability to travel all over Italy and Europe. After the program ended, my brother and a friend came to visit and then my parents did as well and I got to play tour guide as I took them up and down the length of Italy. However, there was a short time between visitors where I had the chance to explore Italy on my own. I chose to visit one of the most fascinating places on the planet: Cinque Terre. The name is indicative of the place, as it’s five towns strung together by only a train and hiking path that runs along the coast. Though it’s beautiful, it’s also one of those unique places on earth that seems to be trapped in time somewhere far away from the present and it seems there are more tourists than locals at any given time.

So, as I was approaching my destination, I realized the train car I was in was not as empty as I had previously believed. There was one other young man who I had failed to notice and was surprised to see, given where I was going. More unusual, was that he wasn’t a tourist.

He immediately knew I wasn’t a native and asked me where I was from. I told him the United States, but he wasn’t satisfied with that answer because he could obviously tell that just looking at me. But when I said, “New Jersey,” you can’t imagine how shocked I was by his incredible reaction.

“New Jersey!? New JERSEY!” he started yelling. I couldn’t tell if he was upset, crazy or just excited. He began rattling off locations, “Jersey! The shore! Asbury Park! Yes!” he was smiling, nodding and prodding me. He just kept repeating, “Jersey, New Jersey, Jersey,” and at this point I was completely lost.

Then he quieted down, looking out the window, shaking his head in disbelief until he turned to me, sincerely looked me in the eyes and asked, “Do you know who comes from New Jersey? Do you know?” I answered him only with a wide-eyed stare, still not sure what he would shout next, but when he did – it all made sense.

“THE BOSS! THE BOSS IS FROM NEW JERSEY!” The hysteria continued, but at least now I could join in and understand his excitement. It was unbelievable, that here – in such a remote location, on a lonely train, out of nowhere, I was confronted by, apparently, the biggest Bruce Springsteen fan of all time. He told me about all of the shows he’d been to, his favorite albums and tracks and suddenly, the world seemed a little smaller, and a little better, all because of a guy from New Jersey.

So, my friends – the moral is – Jersey kicks ass because we’ve got the Boss. Yea, we’ve got Snooki, too, but the Boss trumps all. My friend from Italy says so.

Now, go ahead and look at the pictures from this run and listen to some Bruce while you do it.

My hometown.

The sun rises up, I climb the ladder...

The new day breaks and I'm working on a dream.

Sleeping in that old abandoned beach house, getting wasted in the heat...

And hiding on the backstreets.

Running on the backstreets...

Terry, you swore we'd live forever

Taking it on them backstreets together.

...you're like an angel on my chest.

Lying out there like a killer in the sun...

Hey, I know it's late, we can make it if we run...

Oh Thunder Road, sit tight take hold. Thunder Road.

Don't worry darlin' 

No baby, don't you fret. 

We're livin' in the future and...

none of this has happened yet.

The earth it gave way...

The sea rose toward the sun.

I was trying to find my way home

but all I heard was a drone

Bouncing off a satellite

Crashing the last, lone American night.

This is radio nowhere.

Is there anybody alive out there?

Got a wife and kids in Baltimore, Jack...

I went out for a ride and I never came back.

Like a river that don't know where it's flowing...

I took a wrong turn and I just kept going.

I was eight-years-old and running with a dime in my hand...

...my hometown.

These pictures were taken in Jersey - SHOCKING, I know

1. I'm from New Jersey. Not the Jersey shore.

2. Where I'm from, we don't have a zip code, we didn't have a ShopRite until I was at least 10 years old and we have about two local bars to drink at on the weekends. (But bars are overrated anyway when you live on a lake. We party on islands.) 

3. I know Newark sucks, Camden is the armpit of the world and I agree - the turnpike IS hell, however, "Dirty Jersey" is not all dirty.

I've never been fooled into thinking I could actually convince people of this and once Jersey Shore graced my life with it's presence I knew I never would. The nickname I adopted in Syracuse, Jwoww, still sticks a little too well. 

Yes, I went to prom weekend at Sleazeside and I get it, we're a little rough on the road. (Not bad drivers, just aggressive.) But, this post is all in defense of Jersey because I was fortunate enough to live in one of the best communities and most beautiful places anywhere. Forest Lakes. 

From when I was 6 to 18 I had a circle tan on my back, and was swimming, life-guarding, coaching and rarely wearing more than a bathing suit. Again. Not Jersey shore. No poofs, situations or hair gel. This is Forest Lakes.

So, after running around my lake more times than I can count, I finally decided to take a camera. Naturally, this has become one of my favorite runs. Though the hills can hurt, I still find it beautiful in every season, especially fall...

See that - GREEN acres

The park down the road from my house growing up.

Not too bad.

Our lake is too small for big boats. 

Armpit? I think not.

Boardwalk beach: Where I spent endless hours...bored.

Quiet.

Serious color.

Peeking through.

I swear we're still in Jersey.

Love this island.

<3

Burlington baby

Before I say a word about this run, I'd like to thank my Professor from JMU, Eric Fife, for an interesting contribution. Apparently I'm not so far off with my beer and running workout combo. Finally! I can defend myself!

But back to Burlington...

I was lucky to have a better run on the second day of my stay. Though the waterfront is strikingly beautiful in all weather, I was happy to trade in raindrops for sunshine. It made for a more comfortable run...and some awesome pictures.

With my head in the clouds...

Fantastic.

The sky seems bigger in Burlington.

The dark side of the same sky.

Jekyll and Hyde.

Boats are big in Burlington.

This is why.

These sailors were making me nervous. They almost tipped a few times. But they've got nothing on these paddlers. That's right! Another reason to love Burlington - they paddle pumpkins every year for the Great Pumpkin Regatta. Look and love this awesome video on 7 Days writer, Lauren Ober's blog.

Down the coast.

The water is wide.

I took the one less traveled by...

...and that has made all the difference.

Run to the water.

These next few aren't actually from a run - they're from a drive - but I couldn't leave them out. There were so many picturesque places to photograph, I had to take some shots while I drove. Safe. I know. But there were a few worth pulling over for.

This is taken on a dirt road just off the highway with only two houses and all this land. Magnificent.

I had to get proof of the camel. 

Couldn't help it.

And again. 

The drive away was bittersweet. I was hoping to find a way to stay, but unfortunately Burlington didn't have enough to keep me close. However, I'm hoping my return trip won't be about sun and rain...it'll be all about the snow.