A strange thing happened to me today.
Started out as a fairly regular Monday. You know. Pretty shit. Had to get up early. Had to get on a stinky, crowded train. Decided that rather than walk to work (Waterloo to London Bridge) I would take more of a stinky train to get in early.
Got in early. No bananas. Work work work worky work. Gym at lunch – ran 5km. Fairly standard.
Work work work worky work. (There may have been a meeting or two in that worky work there somewhere).
Commute home, stinky train. Pick up groceries. Eat some dinner, eff about online. Talk to my moms (which is always a highlight) but then RAGE RAGE RAGE (my poor, patient moms) about a particularly INFURIATING work thing that is going on.
I was very ragey again today. There is a thing (the same “thing” as always) at work and a thing in my personal life that is filling me full of rageohol.
Now, if you know me, you know how I deal with rageohol: Usually I dilute it with alcohol. Seems like the right thing to do.
But today… today I got changed into my running shit after my call with my moms. I fired up my Runkeeper and Zombies, Run! apps. And I went for a motherfucking run.
Now… here’s the strange thing that happened (I mean – over and above the fact that I went for a run instead of a pint): I liked it.
There was a point where I was actually enjoying the exercise. Double-you Tee Eff, man? ENJOYING THE RUNNING.
I’m sat here now in minor amounts of pain. My feet are a wee bit torn apart (I did run nearly 15km today in total – and this after running 10km yesterday… WHO EVEN AM I?) and I’m pretty sure my thighs are going to be non-functioning tomorrow (there is already a pretty deep ache)… but I feel good.
And not just self-righteous good (a by-product of any exercise if you are me), but good-good. My rage has subsided. I am feeling fairly at piece with the universe.
I hope this is a feeling I can remember (not the feet/thighs part – the other part) because I would like to feel this way more often.
This was my run, by the way. Check out those changes in elevation. That first hill is where the zoms nearly got me. I thought I was going to vomit (zom vom) when I got to the top… I’m not nearly in shape enough to fucking sprint up a hill that far into a run.
Who knew that trying to escape a murderous pack of zombies would motivate me enough to run and run and run. Bless you, zombies.