Soaring on the Ground

As I was running the other day, outside in the 25-degree-with-moderate-humidity morning I thought about how much more I enjoy having my feet hit the pavement rather than the treadmill. Even though my left toe was frozen. While part of the enjoyment must have something to do with the actually going somewhere, rather than running in one place staring at the same walls, it is mostly the fact then when I'm running outside, I'm what is moving, not the ground. And I'm pretty sure I won't go flying off of the sidewalk. I've never actually fallen off of a treadmill, but I'm all too aware that it could happen. It stresses me out. I have lost my footing on the elliptical trainer causing me to swear out loud at the gym. Not good. I prefer to swear out loud to myself in the privacy of my car at someone who is not me.

I do enjoy listening to music in the gym. Even music that isn't to my taste. Though it is too much Simpson girls, not enough Avril or Sheryl for me. In spite of this, it helps my mind pass time while my body sweats. And distracts me from my concerns about missteps on the machines. Outside I enjoy the sounds of being outside. It's pretty quiet. I don't really notice the cars; there isn't a lot of traffic when I'm running. I stir up a few dogs in the neighborhood, though. Mainly when I run I hear my shoes on the pavement; I hear my breath.

I recently got myself an mp3 player and arm band to have when I run. I can run about a half an hour before calling it quits. Like changing routes has helped get me out the door, I am hopeful that having some music might distract me from my watch and keep me going longer and farther. If I'm going to run 6 miles in May I need to get going more than 3 miles now. I envision myself fumbling with the thing, though. Hopefully I won't get tangled in any wires. That might be worse than flying off the back of the treadmill.

After I had been running for a few months I told the R that I thought the runner's high was a hoax. I don't feel euphoric while running. That. Is. For. Sure. I have to convince myself to take every single step. I use objects and places in the distance to propel myself forward. A mile into a run, I worry that I could easily talk myself out of running any more, at any moment.

But then I did recently notice a trend in my mood. On my running days, after I've done my yoga, my shower, my hair and makeup, and espresso'ed my latte I feel pretty doggone good. Now I don't know if it is because I have a quiet morning so I have time to run, if it's the yoga I do after I run, or if it is indeed the actual running that leads to this. It's not just satisfaction. It's not just feeling pride that I did something good for myself and I can feel it in my bones. I do feel it in my bones and my muscles resonate with that slight feel-good pain. But it's more than that. It's actually a lifting of my spirits. After years of feeling somewhat dull I actually feel ... dare I say it? Happy.

That's enough to get me back out there tomorrow.