Through tired eyes I gazed out my apartment window into the frigid Idaho climate. A cold rain fell lightly being driven by the arctic-cold breeze. On this particular Saturday morning, my clock read 8:03 a.m.; still plenty of time to sleep … or take a jog.
I’m not timid to tell that I love running. Rain, shine or snow, I’ll take any chance I have to lace up my shoes and jog any distance.
No, I’m not training for a marathon … yet. Yes, I do have a good time pushing my limits and I’m quite keen to be reaping a few associated benefits. According to the American Heart Association, Inc., aerobic exercise such as running can help a person stay fit perform better on tests, have a higher ability to reason and be less likely to acquire symptoms of anxiety and depression.
Anxiety and depression were feelings I had when all this began. As a junior at Rigby High School in Idaho, I took an aerobics class due to a lack of options.
Amidst the “1-and-2-and-3-and…” to songs including Be True to Your School and I’m Alright, courtesy of legends The Beach Boys and hit-country singer Jo Dee Messina, I found joy in an activity required every Wednesday: running.
Those jogs around the gym engaged me enough to join my high school cross country team, and those short jogs progressed into six minute full-out sprints, five-minute miles and eight to 12 mile distance runs around the local lake.
Although my very first practice with the team left my body stiff, tired and reluctantly regurgitating portions of sloppy joes, baked beans and salad (not good pre-running food, which I found out the hard way, even if it was for a ward party), I discovered running gave me a sensation, aside from throwing up, that I hadn’t yet found in any other activity.
Now, I know what you’re thinking; listen close, because I used to be in your shoes (no pun intended). I’ve heard it all: “You run distance? Are you crazy?” “Why would anyone want to torture themselves …” and “I don’t even like running to the corner, let alone 5 miles …” I was once such a heckler and would like to give one word in rebuttal: endorphins.
Yes endorphins, those little guys that kick in after the first few miles and allow you to run virtually scott-free of pain for miles on end. Though this discovery depleted the strength of my shoe’s soles, my love for distance running intensified immensely. I found myself eager to arise on a calm summer morning and hit the streets, iPod Shuffle around my neck.
From jogging in aerobics to running on the varsity squad, such a feeling as running can’t be explained. Sprinting the last fifty yards of a 5K and passing an opponent makes all the pain, sweat and mental anguish well worth its toll. I am a runner. I run. It hurts. And I like it.
HELPFUL LINKS
