Runner’s High

It’s a cool and foggy morning, just after 6 a.m., the perfect running weather. Yes, it’s an ungodly early hour, especially for a Saturday, but I am pounding the pavement and actually loving it.

As much as I’m a believer in P90X, I do miss running. There’s just something about lacing up a pair of running shoes, turning on my iPod shuffle, and jogging out the door that feels so right. It also feels very good to leave my house All. By. Myself. I’m usually a big people person, but when it comes to running, I do better with my own thoughts as my only distraction. Well, the spider webs I ran through were a little distracting, but they were short distractions.

It also helps that I’m now in somewhat decent shape, so I’m not huffing and puffing the entire time. If I was out of shape, I’m convinced this would be a very different blog post about how much I hate running, and everything about it.

Van and I are a little more than half-way through P90X, and while I’m sure I’ll still pop in some of the DVDs, I look forward to running more often. If the amount of sweat is any indication, I really think I get a better workout running three miles than doing an hour of Kenpo kickboxing with Tony and his cronies. Running also means I don’t have to listen to Tony Horton’s annoying comments which I now have memorized. Instead, I get full control over my music choice. No Selena Gomez. No Taylor Swift. Just my favorites, like Prince, Kid Rock, and Pink.

Who knows, maybe I’ll even be inspired to run another half-marathon. Nah. I’m probably still on my runner’s high.

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