Run, Meggie, Run!

Endorphins are funny.

First, a little background: I seem to hit these peaks and valleys with my running, where one week I'm setting new best times and absolutely loving being out there, pounding the pavement into submission and feeling my body move.

Then suddenly, I can barely drag myself out the door and a twelve-minute mile is something to celebrate.

Weather sometimes seems to play a role. Hormones are definitely part of it. Confidence is probably about 85% of it.

Anyway, lately, I've been feeling like my running mojo had been misplaced, and I've been searching like mad trying to find it. I'm "supposed" to run about two-and-a-half miles, six days a week. About thirty minutes worth of running. Sometimes I do it, sometimes I'm happy just to push out a quick sub-10 mile and be done with it. On the days I do an M.-assigned workout at the gym, I'm happy if I can walk to my car from the ladies' locker room.

I set a goal on Daily Mile this week to run 12 miles this week, and to accumulate an additional 18 miles of walking, rowing, swimming, Stair Master, etc. And as of tonight, Thursday (with Sunday being the last day of a Daily Mile week), I was woefully behind. I didn't even run yesterday, after working with M.

I've been mostly running in the mornings the last couple of years, but today, I had to get blood drawn--long story, everything's fine, and yes, that was me yelling, "VIVA CHOICE!!" out my open car windows at the protesters outside my Planned Parenthood...because screw them for protesting a place that is helping me stay healthy while I'm unemployed and uninsured...but anyway...

Back to my point. I didn't run this morning because I had to fast, and my immediate priority after having blood drawn was sitting in my car inhaling the protein smoothie I'd brought along. I figured I'd run tonight, when things cooled down and the sun wasn't quite so high (it's only May and my runner's tan is already impressive).

And that's what I did. I set off sometime around 6:45, after letting dinner digest. I did my normal walking warm up (about eight tenths of a mile) and then started running, figuring if I made it that first mile-and-a-half without stopping, I'd be happy. And then...I just made it through the whole two-and-a-half-mile route without walking. My time was a respectable 27:50 (about an 11 minute mile on average, though I know I was faster at the start and way slower at the end).

As I walked my normal mile-and-a-half uphill cool down walk home, I thought to myself, "I want to do another mile."

But dusk was approaching fast and I knew if I didn't get home soon-ish, my parents would worry, so I walked home. Then I sat down in the living room, looked at Dad and said, "I want to do another mile." He just raised his eyebrows and said, "You should, then."

So I did.

Yes, my friends. I am that person now. Five miles of walking and running wasn't enough tonight. No, I had to go out and do another quick mile, just to see how fast I could go after a full run a few minutes before. And what do you know...I did a ten-minute mile, then turned around and danced home to Keane's "On the Road." An hour later, I'm still buzzing with endorphins and thinking I should become a triathlete, or maybe take over the world or something.

Or maybe I should hike my stinky self to the shower and go to bed.