Runner's Roller Coaster

Does anyone remember the movie "What Women Want" with Mel Gibson? There was a section of the movie where he created, with the help of hearing someone's thoughts, a commercial for Nike with a woman running. Every single piece of that ad speaks the truth for me. I run because it is the only place I am free.

I keep thinking there is a term for how I feel. New terms develop every day to classify behaviors, experiences, and more. Neurodivergent, Empath, avoidant of various sorts, and on to name a few. Logic and reality scream you are not alone in the varied nature of emotions. If you have been following along, see my "I see in color" post for reference. Despite a reasonable awareness of truth, the struggle is real to keep the lies at bay.

Here I am, workout clothes on, hair pulled back, and shoes tied, ready to hop on the treadmill for the exercise I don't want to do and know is everything I seek. The cycle goes something like this:

1. Turn on the treadmill, music, and muted TV for a slow and easy warm-up.

2. Pause to stretch.

3. Get distracted by the cats who must be a part of what I am doing.

4. Determine whether it's now or never and get back on the treadmill, increasing my speed.

5. Start my Apple watch workout, cover the timer on the treadmill, and do it.

6. The first 4 minutes are nonstop thoughts about not being up to the energy necessary to complete the full workout.

7. Somewhere between 7 to 9ish minutes, I hit my runner's high and little debate takes place on continuing; instead, I enjoy the moments when I feel strong and secure.

8. The high wears off by about 12 to 15 minutes, and it feels like there is way too much time left. I start mentally counting how many songs have played or the amount of time for whichever episode on the TV that have passed. Do I need an exit strategy to allow me to quit soon?

9. Successfully beating the question portion of the roller coaster, I usually have hit 30 minutes or close. Now it all feels attainable. My exercise rings have definitely closed if not all of them later in the day. I recognize that I could technically stop now but choose not to.

10. By this time, I am nearing 40 minutes, and 45 has been the magic number when I tell myself it is okay to quit. Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel means I may begin consumed by the mileage or time.

11. 45 minutes in, I no longer want to quit, and the opposite happens; I do not want to quit. I am now fully pursuing running as long as I can to make it to the next milestone or longer timestamp. I mean, I made it this far, so it's much easier to set out for a breaking goal than when I have only run a few minutes.

12. It usually doesn't take long for me to return to checking the time/mileage and determining when, in fact, I should truly quit. Thus far, 4 miles has been the farthest. Time is relative to how fast I set the treadmill, what incline I choose, and morning/afternoon.

13. Deep relieved and happy sigh as I press cool down and revel in the joy of a job well done. That is until the next time I start the whole process again.

You would think the predictability would get old, or at least require something to keep things fresh, but not so much. The only thing that I still consider is what to put on the TV, so my mind, regardless of the massive jumble logged above, has another option to keep it busy. I regularly take breaths questioning if I am physically tired or just mentally. Almost always, it's boredom rather than physical exhaustion.

Today, I need the mental distraction of the roller coaster, the adrenaline rush of the runner's high, and the freedom only found when I'm doing this. I am surrounded by more people who think all of this is crazy rather than sane. If you are reading this out there and get even a portion of what I am saying, give me a holler. I sure know someday I will find my people!