Oh man, was I ever in need of a serious endorphin hit.
For two straight days, I was in a mood, and as Mario will attest to, I’m not exactly the funnest chick to be around when I get in a mood. I was grouchy, glum, testy, the littlest of things were setting me off into a downward spiral. And I couldn’t figure it out. I mean, I had just come off a great weekend, watched my husband in his cycling glory, celebrated an amazing milestone, so why the gloom? I thought maybe it was a lack of sleep, I had been having a lot of early mornings and late nights, that could do it, I thought. But then I got a good night sleep and I still didn’t snap out of it. So I thought it was the weather, it had been grey and rainy for a couple of days, but then the sun came out and still nothing.
Yesterday morning, it suddenly dawned on me: It had been four days since my last run.
Running, I kid you not, is like freaking heroin or any other addictive drug for that matter (or so I imagine from what I’ve seen in the movies). Scientists have proven that runner’s can actually experience a runner’s high, by way of endorphins flooding the brain. Endorphins are like the brain’s naturally occurring opiates. And the more endorphins a runner’s body pumps out, the more euphoric the effect – which is great and all, but there’s also a downside: withdrawals. Serious withdrawals.
But hey, fixing that was easy enough, I thought. Just go out for a run. So yesterday morning I packed my bag full of shorts and a shirt and shoes and socks and my Garmin and everything else. And I was excited, I couldn’t wait for my work day to be over to hit the road, I couldn’t wait to feel the endorphins surging through my veins and the adrenaline pounding through my heart. I watched the clock, tick-tock, tick-tock. It seemed to take forever. I was jonesing so bad, I almost snuck out midday for a hit. But finally the time arrived. I grabbed my bag and practically ran out the door.
As soon as my feet hit the ground, I thought it was going to be the most glorious free feeling in the world, I had dreamed of this feeling all day, I could almost taste it. But then, something happened. I didn’t glide down the street as though I was on Cloud 9. Quite the opposite. My legs felt like lead, my feet were stomping, my pace was off, my stride was off, my arms were swinging, and my Garmin just wasn’t working. What the heck, did I get gypped on a bad run or what?
- 5:30 p.m. BG before: 11.1
- (forgot to set a temp. basal)
- Distance: 5.74 km
- Average pace: 6:42 min per km
- Average heart rate: 163 bpm
- Time: approx. 39 minutes (Garmin was acting up)
- 6:30 p.m. BG after: 3.2 (boo :()
Looking back on my last few Tuesdays, my runs have been total crap. I thought it had something to do with the fact that I was running on a snoreville treadmill, which I hate, but that doesn’t explain yesterday does it. So what then? My Tuesday runs have also had a history of plummeting blood sugars, so maybe that’s it, or maybe my body just hates Tuesdays. Regardless, Tuesday runs, I curse you!
On the upside, just as the run was coming to a close, I came across this, uhm, innovative? cat memorial:
And even with the skunk run, I still got my endorphin hit – my mood last night and today was 1,000 times improved. Mario thanks you run 😀