Friday, March 31, 2006
Runner's high my ass
Yesterday I got home from work and decided I needed to go for a walk. I hadn’t gone all week. So in a fit of “I really really should,” I leashed up the doggies and went out into the neighborhood. Normally I just do the fast walking thing for about a mile. On ambitious days I’ll go two miles. I can usually keep up the power walking pretty good.
Today the doggies decided they wanted to run. So I thought to myself, “They wanna run? Sure I’ll give it a shot.” So I start running. About half a block of this and I start to breath kinda hard. Yeah… *pantpant* This isn’t so bad… *pantpant* I’m feeling good… *pantpant* I can do this… *pantpant*.
By the time I reach the end of the long block my run as slowed into a jog and my breathing is increasingly labored. My legs are starting to feel a little weak. The cold air is starting to constrict my lungs, causing me to wheeze a bit. As I make the turn around the block I’m thinking, “NOW I remember why I don’t run.” How could I *pantwheeze* have forgotten? *pantwheeze* How does one *pantwheeze* forget this sort of *pantwheeze* torture?
I walk the rest of the way back home, panting and wheezing like the out-of-shape geek I am. Walking is good. Walking I can do. Just do it more than once a week so I don’t get these weird bouts of guilt which cause me to forget I hate running. Runner’s high my ass.
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Categories: • I'm such a dolt