At the end of my five mile solo run this morning I cried. Literally.
Before I began my run, I mapped out a lap of just under 2.5 miles so I could swing back by the house and swig some water mid-workout. The first lap was predominantly uphill, so I reversed my direction for the second lap. At the end of the second lap I realized I was still a little short of the full five, so I ran back up, uphill, the block that Ts into ours. This last stretch of .18 miles was a sweaty, teeth-gritting arc of final effort until my running app hit the magical 5.00. I slowed to a walk and doubled back down the street, hitting the button that calculates pace. Overwhelmed with adrenaline and a bit of a runner’s high, my eyes filled with tears as I saw that my average mile pace was less than 12 minutes, that I had finished the run in less than an hour. I absolutely could have sobbed due to a strange joy and mental exhaustion cocktail; however, it was a beautiful Sunday morning and many of my neighbors were outside. I mustered the will power to reign it in.
I have never cried during or after a workout. Who knows what could be going on with my hormones, but I think this was simply a case of exhilaration over a job well done. My run was very smooth. There wasn’t ever a point where I thought I wanted to give up or I wouldn’t make it. I fueled properly beforehand with one small cup of coffee, a boiled egg, and half a mini wheat bagel with peanut butter. Yesterday was event filled but I was very conscientious about my water intake and felt hydrated this morning despite several hours of fun-ride (Tour de Grizz) carousing last night. My run was well planned and I made adjustments as necessary. I listened to a hilarious podcast (Doug Loves Movies from 3/30/12) and maintained a pretty consistent pace. I didn’t mind the numbers and completely ignored the running app until the very end. After the podcast, I finished up with some M83 and a couple pop hits to boost my last mile into a sprint. I was outfitted correctly and felt like a runner for probably the first time in a couple years. Maybe ever.
I wish I had some keen observation to mellow out the stark admission that I shed tears over a workout. But I think I’m just going to leave it at that.