It’s been nearly two months since my last post.

Cycling 22 miles to Coney Island was pretty much a mic drop as far as this blog and my fitness life are concerned so I’m okay with the dramatic hiatus.

I am certain that questions of my whereabouts crowded web forums in similar style to chatter about Tupac’s disappearance. That is unless you follow me on Instagram. From my millennial-esque oversharing, you know exactly where I was. (#ButWhereisTupacREALLY?)

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Ever since mankind ceased being nomadic, political and religious factions have fought over land. It’s a tale as old as time, even since before West Side Story.

But there is an untold tale of tribal land grab happening in a zip code close to home. Even though NY1 isn’t covering it, Central Park is home to a conflict. The groups involved are so fundamentally different in their desires, I don’t see how we can ever live in harmony.

Every Saturday morning, three factions set out to the Central Park loop armed with cameras, bicycles or just a sweat-heavy singlet. This land war is between tourists, bikers and runners. View Post