Whirlwind Running

Yesterday was completely frantic. Work was crazed from the moment I got in the door, our office Christmas party was scheduled for last night at 7, and I also wanted to get in a run since I missed my 5-miler on Tuesday. I decided that if I left the office slightly before 5, I could get in a quick run and still make it to the party around 7.  I might be a little ripe, but hey - at least I would be there, right? Besides, the party was at a bowling alley, so it wasn't terribly formal. It was a fancy shmancy bowling alley, true, but still - a bowling alley.

So I finished up the last of what I needed to do around 4:45 and sprinted out the office door, fought the elevator lines, parking garage lines, and traffic to make it to Memorial Park before it got too dark to run. While Memorial Park is a great place to run during the day, it's not known to be the smartest place for someone my gender (and terrifying size - hah!) to run by yourself after dark. After the frantic day, the effort to get out of the office and over to MP while it was still light out just added to the stress and edginess I was already feeling. I was a bundle of nerves when I finally got there.

By the time I changed, geared up, and finally hit the trail, the sun had set and I figured I'd be able to just eek out one three mile loop around the park before it got too dark. I carried the adrenaline and stress and rush of the day with me as I started the run, and the first mile ended up being wayyyy too fast (well, it's all relative - I'm not sure you can really call any of my running truly fast!). I could feel the tenseness in my muscles, and the fast pace / stressed out combo is a great way to pick up an injury. So I tried to slow down for the second mile, although that was kind of tough because the entire second mile is next to the three lanes of traffic on Memorial - and last night it was Memorial at rush hour. Not exactly a peaceful or quiet run; you just want to get that part over with as quickly as you can, 'cause those cars are less than 10 feet from you. But by the third mile, which is much quieter and more serene, I finally settled into a rhythm and was feeling some of stress and tightness start to bleed off.

I finished the third mile of the loop and wasn't ready to stop, although it was definitely dark. My body still had energy and wanted to run, and my mind needed the endorphins. I had noticed that the last mile of the loop was well lit and still fairly populated, so I decided to do an out and back to get to a five mile total.

That was easily the best decision I made all day.

The last two miles reminded me of why I run. My mind finally quit racing and found some quiet and stability, my muscles relaxed into a more soothing rhythm, and I felt the last of the day's craziness disappear behind me on the dim trail. Blissfully cathartic is the best description I can think of for that run.

Until a couple of years ago, my main athletic activities were tennis and softball. Someone commented one time that I must have a lot of aggression to get rid of, because my sports all involve hitting the hell out of something. I have to agree - there is something very satisfying about hitting the crap out of a ball, especially after a bad day. So when I started running, I didn't see how it could ever be as great a therapy as either my softball or my tennis. But then I had a couple of runs similar to the one I had last night, and I realized that the release I need doesn't have to come from hitting the crap out of a ball (although I still really enjoy that!). Something about the rhythm of a great run, the relaxing muscles and mental peace that come with it, the physical exhaustion and satisfaction from the distance covered, the post-run quiet energy - well, it's definitely different from a great tennis match, but it's just as effective at keeping me sane. And really? That's all that matters.