I'm in Istanbul. Neat city, from what I've seen. I'm headed to NYC tomorrow, weather permitting.
I'll write up a report once I can. Of the race and - if you want - all the other stuff I saw. (Not to be melodramatic. My experience was that of an expat/tourist who was completely, safely, totally removed from the protests.) I'm basically just really exhausted right now, although the whole thing is already fading from emotional into an amusing anecdote. "Hey, remember that time I was emergency evacuated out of Egypt due to the overthrow of Mubarak? That was awesome, right? I'm so badass!"
But Egypt! Egypt! Egypt is safe! Egypt is stable! Egypt is wonderful! Egypt feels more like home to me than New York does! No one I talked to expected the protests to be all that large at first, let alone this successful. Power to the people. The amazing, wonderful, gracious, generous Egyptian people who deserve a leader who respects them. These are exciting times in the Middle East.
On I went, out of the wood, passing the man leading without knowing I was going to do so. Flip-flap, flip-flap, jog-trot, jog-trot, curnchslap-crunchslap, across the middle of a broad field again, rhythmically running in my greyhound effortless fashion, knowing I had won the race though it wasn't half over, won it if I wanted it, could go on for ten or fifteen or twenty miles if I had to and drop dead at the finish of it, which would be the same, in the end, as living an honest life like the governor wanted me to. -Alan Sillitoe, "Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner"