So after some heavy negotiating between mind and body, I finally convinced my whole self to try another run today. After all, I haven't run since two days ago and that's a long time - long enough to make me wonder why I run at all. I had an entire day yesterday to rest, I reason with my Self. That's plenty, that's like being spoiled. Body, you can try another run. And if anything, says Brain, you can just show Brain that you (the reluctant Body) is right - get running and prove that it's a waste of time. Just try it. (Meanwhile, Brain is hoping this tactic works, and that once Body gets going it will see the light and remember what the Brain knows - that running isn't all that bad!).
So I promised my whole Self that after a day of rest yesterday I would get up early for a morning run today. It was the great compromise. One day off, then one day on. I set my alarm. I pictured myself running. I tried to remember the runner's high. I fought off my many justifications to not get up early. I woke up several times at night to check my watch. I WILL GET UP, I kept telling myself. And I started to get a little excited.
I got up. Ten minutes before my alarm went off, I got up. 5:20 am. I was looking forward to the run, or at least to getting it over with.
Mile one. Ugh. Mile two. Still ugh. Mile three. I did a 5K already! Mile four. This isn't so bad. Mile five. Feeling good! Mile six. I did a 10k! Mile seven. I can do a little more. Mile eight. I did it! I'm done. Eight Miles. A little over an hour. The runner's high didn't really set in until late in the run, but it hasn't worn off either.
I remember this feeling. Satisfied. Proud. Happy. Fulfilled. Energetic. How could I have forgotten so easily? I know what if feels like to run - it feels good.