Early seven miles –
I lurch atop heavy legs
until nighttime falls.
It seems counterintuitive, but one of the things I’ve noticed since I’ve started running again is that my mood has improved. When I sleep in, I feel groggier than I do when I get out of bed at 4:30AM, which sounds kind of crazy as I’m typing it out. But it’s true. And grogginess leads to grumpiness. Grumpiness leads to anger. You get the deal.
But, in a strange way, it makes sense. Coming off that runner’s high after a seven-mile run (or longer), I’m exhausted but content. I still long for that cup of black coffee, sure, but I’m no longer that Shadi who cannot deal with a million questions from my oldest daughter, her struggle to pick out clothes or her inability to shovel food in her mouth because said mouth is talking a mile a minute.
Those things are still frustrating, but exercise puts me in a place where I can internalize that frustration. And that’s good for pretty much everyone in my immediate vicinity.
I can’t remember when I bought my last pair of Brooks Adrenaline GTS running shoes, or what number was tacked on to the end of what already seems like the name of precision sports car. But I can tell you when I realized that their soles had given out. Continue reading