Bone tired after work tonight, totally spent. Turned off my monitor and started dozing in my desk chair as my computer went into sleep mode. Caught myself nodding off and snapped my head back. Nearly broke my neck. The last thing I wanted was to go for a run. But yesterday, after a particularly ugly grind at the remote office, I had given myself permission to take a second rest day for the week after my usual Monday break. I didn’t want to take a third day off this week.
So I dragged myself through a slow-mo wardrobe change, layering up with dread. Not only was I fighting fatigue, my late lunch was not sitting well and I also had a feeling my blood sugar was wonky and that I was heading for a hypoglycemic bonk. Something I’ve always struggled with on late-in-the-day outings.
Shoes tied, light vest illuminated, headlamp glowing, hat secured, podcast playing, gloves on, I pushed myself out the door into the dark for an easy out-and-back 3-miler.
Here is where you might expect me to tell you that my run was surprisingly awesome. That within a few steps my spirits lifted and my worries vanished. That my depleted body shook off its torpor and was flooded with vim and vigor. That I was gobsmacked by the beauty of the evening hush and the crisp, clean air.
Didn’t happen. It wasn’t terrible but it sure wasn’t great. I was drag-assing the whole way. I slowed to a walk a couple times. I resisted the temptation to stop and check my email. I felt the low blood sugar sapping my energy. My neck was still sore from the head-snapping incident. My nose was dripping like a faucet from the cold. The headlamp beam dancing on the dark pavement was making me dizzy. You know the drill.
Sometimes running is just plain meh, with ugh and blah in the mix as well. Not terrible but not awesome, either. But here’s what makes even these lame, sucky outings worthwhile: How you feel when you get home and can relax and take off the gloves and untie the shoes and shower off the sweat. That small buzz of pride from having pushed through a tough one when it would have soooo easy to blow it off. That little post-run high from Having Gone for a Run. Sometimes that is the only thing that keeps this absurd habit at all worthwhile. Never mind the pain in the neck that makes it a pain in the neck. Or maybe because of it.
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