Have I mentioned lately that running is no fun?
Here’s the thing, it gives me 48 hours of feeling great. So for 30-60 minutes of ugh I get 2 days of love, not bad.
There’s this dialog that goes on in my brain before a run that goes something like…
Really, we’re going to do this?
Yup we really are, get moving.
But it’s not fun.
Right, neither were so many choices but you did them (think school, pregnancy, work, blah, blah, blah)
It makes you skinny and feel good.
OK let’s go…
I’m a high energy person with some family members struggling with depression/anxiety. Exercise balances out my life. It doesn’t matter what it is, just needs to involve a good workout. There is a definite correlation between my effectiveness and activity level.
So now I run.
Not far. Just far enough to spend those calories, get that heart rate up and sweat as much as I can.
Unless I’m training for something, 20-30 minutes is good.
So the (internal) conversation continues…
So. I. Run.