I am not sure I’ve felt the so-called “runner’s high” yet but yesterday AM after I finished my 3/4 mile run I did have a a wee moment of enlightenment… or I came up with an aphorism or something. Here is my great insight:
Running isn’t rewarding because you finished a race, running is rewarding because you started the race.
Of course, my friend Andy pointed out that this doesn’t exactly work since basically I’m saying you could punk out half way through and head to the bar like in that Stella commercial (which cracks me up every time, by the way). What it means to me, though, is that crossing the finish line isn’t itself all that rewarding but the work it takes to get across a finish line commands my respect. They put up with all the aches and pains and early mornings for something as simple as getting from point A to point B in a (comparatively) ineffecient manner.
I suspect that, come Sept. 5, crossing the finish line will be rewarding not becasue I’ll be doing it with good friends or for a good cause but because I’ll remember these days feeling like my heart might pop out of my chest or my thighs might give out from under me.
So, no runner’s high yet… but I must be getting close if I can wax philisophical on running at 7:45 AM.