Runner's High

ODE TO RUNNING

The “Runner’s High” What a Rush!

Have you ever experienced it? If not, what an amazing feeling!
It’s Hot! The August sun beats down on you like an old war drum. What strength you have left is sapped away by the oppressive humidity like only a New England summer heat wave can create.
I decide to run. I decide not to stretch as if I need to warm up anymore. I take a long drink from my garden hose and am ready. I challenge Mother Nature to a battle of strength and start my run.
My run starts with an uphill climb and I question if I suffer from delirium. I am perspiring, no, sweating like crazy; like a Marathoner at the finish line and I have just begun.
The sun beats down on me as I make it up and hit a flat stretch of asphalt with no shade cover. I won round one. The next two miles I work out the usual aches and pains that come with running.
That pain in your side that feels like maybe you’re about to blow your appendix to smithereens.
I hit four corners and am forced to make a decision. Do I turn left towards the Ymca and take the shortcut? Do I go straight and take a risk of dying of Heatstroke? The answer is an easy one and I run straight through the intersection and shake a fist at the heavens as curious onlookers laugh at me and cheer me on. Up the hill I run and I start to really feel the heat. My eyes sting with the constant drip of sweat into my eyes. I can’t take it anymore and, without missing a beat, I remove my sweat dripped shirt and toss it aside. Right away I feel cooler and I pick up my pace. At the five mile mark of my run I start to recognize a change. The hills no longer bother me. The sun, which moments ago was about to melt me into the pavement, is no longer a factor. I check my watch and think this can’t be right! I am averaging six minute miles in this sweltering heat! I laugh and keep running.
Can I call this running? I feel like I’m not even touching the ground. At every decision I take the long way. I am flying through the city like a bike messenger weaves through traffic. I want to stop but can’t bring myself to tell my legs to stop. It is then I realize it’s not me making these decisions but some other power when it finally hits me.
This is it.
This is my reward for beating Mother Nature.
I lose all track of time and run for pure JOY. I challenged the Gods and won.
My speed increases as mile after mile are left behind. I don’t want to tempt the hands of fate and begin my journey home. I can feel myself coming down off of this natural high and thank them for this gift. When I finally make it home I am totally exhausted. I fall on my lawn as the spray of water from the sprinkler cools my body down. I lay there and look up at the sky unable to move.
I write this twenty five years later because someone I care very much about has asked me to write and I am obliging her. It’s remarkable how these memories rose to the surface of my conscience and I write like I just completed the run. I remember the rock I kicked and almost hit a car. I remember almost tripping on the pothole. But most of all, it’s the feeling I had, that “Runner’s High!!” as some people call it.

Me, I call it my reward