In addition to my recent revelations about pregnancy, I had another Supreme Epiphany this week: when I run consistently? I feel better! if I am in a bad mood and I go for a run? I feel better! It's the funniest thing...
In my defense, I was not always a runner. I didn't start running until, gosh, about seven years ago? And before that, I told everyone who would listen that I only ran if I was being chased. Then one day I decided enough was enough and I needed to start taking care of myself. It took a reeeally long time for it to feel good. In the beginning I was more addicted to the progress. I am not REMOTELY athletic, so running a whole mile without stopping was an accomplishment I worked up to- I can't remember how long it took, but I used to say in my head "Run to that bush. Run to that sidewalk." etc etc, just to keep myself from walking. Then one mile became three. Five was a huge milestone for me- for whatever reason, I felt like running five miles meant I was a runner. And eventually, I started feeling better, and that led to feeling BETTER when I ran than when I didn't.
I'm not sure when I first realized that a good run could ruin a bad day- whether I felt physically rotten, mentally exhausted, or just totally fed up with the world, but it finally dawned on me that it was just as good for my soul as it was for my body. But? I still keep forgetting! And I'll get in these ruts, where I'm not running enough, and I can't figure out why I'm in such a funk.
This past week, I had a reeeally obnoxious day at work. I left totally fed up and pissed off. I saw tons of people out running on my way home and thought, yes. I need to do THAT. And three miles later, I felt like a new person. I was still annoyed about work, but it didn't bother me as much, and all the physical signs of agitation were completely gone. Today, I was totally exhausted, frustrated that Gracie took a rotten nap, and just could not get over myself. And I thought about cancelling my plans for a run with one of my favorite mamas, but I didn't want to bail. And I am SO glad I went, because again, by the time we were halfway into it, I didn't even remember I'd felt bad when I started.
You know how obnoxious ex-smokers can be, once they realize how it feels to breathe fresh air, walk up the stairs without coughing, and have money in their purse instead of a pack of cigarettes? And they preach to every smoker they know about how quitting smoking will change their lives? And it's totally annoying to people who don't want to hear it? I get that. I get it because I wish I had listened sooner. I wish I had started ten years earlier. I would be faster and have better endurance and I probably would've run more than one marathon, and I wouldn't have wasted all that time sitting around like a lump and feeling crappy.
You don't have to believe me. But if you believe someone else five years from now, I promise I won't say I told you so.