Baby We Were Born to Run

Last night was a quick, 32 minute run outside and by 7 p.m. it had cooled down to an amazing 86 degrees, although there was a brisk south wind to blow you around.

I strapped on the heart monitor torture device (not that it hurts, but it is always like a blinking yellow light to me: my legs always want to go faster, but my monitor always says, like a good Mary Poppins, no no no, slow down my dear) because this was scheduled as an easy run. I can't figure out what easy is, so my heart monitor does it for me. If I stay within a certain zone, I can be assured I'm running easy. That also means SLOW. Sometimes I think I can knit a full aghan in the time I run in my aerobic zones, but I am determined to make this program work out right. If the schedule says easy, by golly, I'm going to make like eggs and go over easy, even if walking great-grandmothers pass me.

The first half mile of any run for me is complete exhaustion. Doesn't matter if it's a 3 mile jog or a 14 mile long run. I start out worried, slow, and totally convinced I am never going to get more than 300 yards down the road before my systems all collapse and I go down on the asphalt. I mind trick myself through this horror by promising myself I can walk at a mile if I am still feeling totally winded. Around 3/4 of a mile I finally fall into a bit of a rhythm, and by a mile, I'm usually not wanting to take that walk break (although if it's really hot or I'm very tired it may happen). It's just all about tricking yourself mentally, because physically, I know I can run up to 6 miles without stopping if I go slow enough. Do what it takes to get you through the rough spots. Mine is always just starting out.

My spouse joined me for part of the run, which made it more fun to have someone to run next to. We don't talk much--both of us have our iPods crammed onto our heads--but we nod and gesture and check each other's heart rates and slow down or speed up accordingly. I'm mostly a solitary trainer--I like the peace and quiet of working out alone after a long day at work--but I do enjoy having company at times, especially on the long bike rides. Jim was a fast runner in his salad days and I can see it coming back for him, so running together with him is probably going to be temporary, so I'm enjoying it while I can.

Anyway. Around mile 2 the endorphins kicked in. Let me explain. This doesn't always happen, and when it does, it's just so much fun. You can call it runner's high, or getting into the zone, or whatever, but often on runs (sometimes on the bike, and I've had it happen once or twice on a swim) your breathing slows, your feet start moving easy, the sun and sky and road and trees all seem part of the plan, and your tiredness just drops away. You think to yourself, THIS IS WHY I RUN.

This usually happens toward the end of a run, when you are tiring, for some reason and unfortunately, at least for me, it never lasts long. Suddenly I'm tired, sweaty, hot and my lungs hurt. And it doesn't happen all the time. Still, when it does, you will know it and mark it as a good run day.

I only ran an 11:47 minute mile speed for a total of 2.72 miles, but I kept my heart rate low, and enjoyed the short run because it had been a stressful day at work. I didn't need to stop and walk, and the wind, although it was a PIA to run into, was fun to have at my back when I made the turn. I flung my arms out wide and let it carry me along like a six year old kid.

Baby, we were all born to run.