A letter to NYC and the northeast

Dear fellow- hurricaners:
I feel for you. I really do. When I say I empathize, I'm not just throwing the word around. I know how frustrating it is to have no transportation, no way to control the climate, no fresh foods, no way of knowing when basic services will be back. I know how unfair it seems that some people or neighborhoods are fine, and some are totally destroyed. I know how helpless you feel that people just a few miles away have food and water, but they can't get it to you. I know the way your heart sinks when you pick your way through closed streets, downed power lines, residual flooding, and blocked highways to a grocery store - only to find it boarded up. I've wryly put on my last clean pair of socks, too. I've stood in line for over an hour to buy whatever food I could scrounge. I've comforted friends and cried for no reason. Oh yeah, I feel for you. It's frustrating because we can't control the weather, but we wish we could control the outcomes.
With every storm we learn a little.
For now I hope your friends, neighbors, and complete strangers come together to help and comfort. Politicians promise, agencies rally, but the real assistance is from each other. So offer help and accept it. Give what you have and take what you need. And no matter where you go from now on, you'll meet someone from your home town, and the conversation will veer toward Sandy and shared experiences.

And New York Marathon? Right call, wrong timing. I feel terrible for runners who trained and flew in and made plans,  but I know the city needs streets open right now and could use its resources better than by hosting a race. So all you New York runners out there, go schedule another race, run your hearts out, and get a PR! I'm thinking of all of you!