Runner's High
Runner’s high is an oxymoron. Running is painful; it makes your legs tired and your lungs hurt. Is something chasing me? No? Then I am not running. Certainly not in search of a buzz…
I could never wrap my head around the idea of a runner’s high. Most non-runners can’t. They don’t run. Try explaining to my cat why I flush the toilet; he doesn’t get it, equally fascinated every time.
I’ve hit the pavement only half a dozen times since a very long running sabbatical. I still consider myself a non-runner, but I’m also presumptuous enough to think I understand runner’s high after a combined thirteen miles of roadwork.
The freshness of my experience may benefit me in my attempt to explain the inexplicable. Maybe those who burn through three pairs of running sneakers a year aren’t the most qualified to explain runner’s high. They have been in that zone for so long that they forget how they even get there. Those jog-junkies run marathons just to get their fix. I’m getting uncut runner’s high straight to the bloodstream after only a few blocks.
Maybe I’m the perfect person to describe runner’s high, maybe not; doing it anyways.
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You start running but do not earn your high on the first stride. You cannot spark this drug, you discover it after a slow descent into a more primitive state. Pain is the first step. Well, I’m sure there’s usually a gap between start and pain, but you will have to check with the experts on that one.
It’s a dull pain in the legs. At first the discomfort surprises you, but if you keep going you’ll realize that you aren’t injured. It hurts. I’m still going. I can do this. Pain isn’t a barrier anymore. It’s an acceptance that comfort is superfluous to need.
“Pain don’t hurt.” As Mike Tyson put it.
The non-essential human functions are quickly identified. The nose is first to go in the winter, any energy typically allocated to mucus retention is now diverted to powering the legs and core. As you wipe your nose you realize that you no longer have feeling in your fingers. You pull down and hold the cuffs of your sleeves for warmth. You are reminded that though we live in comfort and sit behind desks, we are animals. Your body recognizes the task at hand; you reap the benefits of nature and continue moving forward.
Family, relationships, friends, work, texts, emails, bills, social media, keeping up with the Kardashians. Life is crazy. If you allow it, however, running will call you to be in the moment. The landscape evolves as you plod along the sidewalk. My Pop-Pop liked to look at the trees as he ran. I imagine him becoming lost in a kaleidoscopic trance. The sunlight playing with the leaves and their shadows. His perspective perpetually changing as his legs propelled him forward.
I typically look at the ground when I run, adhering to advice my mother gave me as a child. In his day, my Pop-Pop tripped over more than a few cracks in the sidewalk. This is what keeps me in the moment. My focus is tied to the ever-changing floor beneath me. Like a guided meditation, each new block of sidewalk brings me back to the now.
It can feel like a bargain. You trade your physical comfort for mental peace and clarity.
To keep moving, all that matters is the next step. Each step is a test when your legs are getting heavier, your side begins to stitch, your lungs get more desperate. In pain, you are asked to prove yourself; you persevere. There’s no room for doubt when you’re digging deep with every stride. The void that’s left by doubt is replaced with strength. Each step is a conquest over your most difficult foe, you. The strength that comes with conquering weakness is euphoric. You feel your muscles bursting through your skin.
You know that the hill is approaching. You’ll need to find another gear to make it to the top. Grit has gotten you this far, but it might not be enough. How deep can you go? It’s time to start hitting skip on your shuffle playlist, a musical injection is what you need to get you to the top.
“Music has always been a matter of Energy to me, a question of Fuel. Sentimental people call it Inspiration, but what they really mean is Fuel. I have always needed Fuel. I am a serious consumer. On some nights I still believe that a car with the gas needle on empty can run about fifty more miles if you have the right music very loud on the radio.” – Hunter S. Thompson
The beat of the song drops as you turn the corner. Up the hill. You maintain your pace, the fuel hits your engine, combustion. You pick up your speed as you climb the hill. You are stronger than the hill. Faster and faster you climb higher and higher. When you reach the summit, you feel like you can take on the world.
That’s runner’s high.
Maybe. I’m kind of hoping. Either I’ve explained runner’s high or masochism. Maybe both. Regardless, if you’re in search of a psychedelic experience in which you test your limits and discover inner strength, give runner’s high a try.
