The Runners' High

It's no longer sport,
No longer just a game.
It has become a way of life.

Every breath is a stride,
Every heartbeat a string of silence.
It is a compulsion from deep within.
It is a passion for glory.
To go through the torment.
To last through the waiting.
To gain that one moment,
Alone with myself.

And only the few,
Who chance to strive,
Can know the experience.
To hear nothing but breath.
To feel nothing but heartbeat.
To feel so much like hell,
Running so close to heaven.

This is the Runners' High.

This is the feeling I live for.
This is the goal I strive toward.
If my chance disappears,
Part of my life would end.

I wish I knew who wrote this because it describes a feeling I know all too well, the feeling of losing yourself in your run. You don't know when it's going to happen. Sometimes running feels like a chore and you have to force yourself to put on your running shoes and get out the door. Sometimes you look forward to that moment, when you can finally breathe in the freedom of running. You never know when a simple run will change everything.

***

Yesterday I had my second physical therapy session. Painful "Active Release Technique," followed by a series of exercises to strengthen my glutes (no complaints there; if having a nice butt will make me a better runner, so be it).

I am trying to decide which running program to follow for the Philadelphia Marathon. Top choices are:

Hal Higdon's Intermediate Program--used his program before for the Silicon Valley Marathon, PR'd and finished injury-free.

Run Less, Run Faster--recommended by a running buddy who qualified for Boston with it. It only has you running three days a week, plus two days of cross training. The only problem with that is that I can't swim and think the eliptical is a waste of time (I barely break a sweat). So that pretty much narrows it down to spinning classes. Which are fine, but hard to fit in my schedule, and they really get old after a while.

Runner's World Training Program--has you doing track workouts and hill repeats every week. Also--scary!--includes two 20-mile runs and one 22-mile run. Hm, seriously?

While struggling with these choices, I am *sort of* training for the San Francisco Half Marathon this month. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not really training for it. I am totally winging this one.

But starting in August, it's time for some serious marathon prep. Adios early evenings on the couch with cheese puffs and trashy TV. Adios sleeping in on the weekends. Adios not being sore all.the.time. Adios healthy hair that is not dried up from being washed every day. Adios impromptu happy hours. Adios cute, blister-free pedicured feet.

All whining aside, the feeling described in the poem above is what keeps me going. Not knowing when that special moment will come, but longing for it, almost tasting it. That is what gets me out the door when it's freezing outside, when I'm tired, when I'm still half-asleep, and especially when I'm angry or upset.

Three more weeks of freedom and then... let the training begin!