Operation 26.2

Runners tend to tell those who don’t run about the good moments: the times at which your body and mind are working together so well that you feel as if your entire frame is just humming.

Runner’s high is so remarkable that you wish everyone could experience it. As such, you wind up talking about it a lot. You compare notes with others who’ve experienced it. You use it to motivate runners who are struggling and you use it to encourage people who are just starting to think about going for a jog.

You don’t hear so much about the tough times, aches and pains. For example, there’s the fact that I’m sitting here right now, icing the knee that’s been sore since mile 8 of the half marathon on Sunday. I have a run-provided cold and I’ve been spending most of my time at home working to work out the muscles that are tight and aching. I’m downing my regular doses of ibuprofen and I’m mixing Emergen-C with my orange juice. My roommate’s been busy listening to me grimace and groan my way through the last few days.

Runners don’t tend to tell you about the devices they buy to keep themselves in decent shape. Beyond the gym memberships, running sneakers, clothes (shorts, tanks, tees, tights, jackets, hats) and running playlists, you buy things referred to as the Stick and the Roller. I have a small ball that I have to squeeze between my knees.

(I know, right? It’s like the Thighmaster, only not.)

I have ankle weights and a stretching band. Braces galore. I own a hydration belt, which really is as dorky as it sounds. And when something’s acting up, there are the physical therapy and doctor’s appointments I’ve been juggling these last few weeks.

There are bruises, muscle pulls, tendonitis, blisters, chafing, dizzy spells and cramping.

And know what? I’m sitting here waiting for the chance to get back out there and do some running. Because all that is better than the idea of not doing it.

Seriously? Runner’s high. It’s that good.

Tomorrow, let’s talk about a half marathon.