I never get runner’s high. I’ve been running off and on since high school--okay, mostly off, but still--and I never get runner’s high. All I ever feel is tired. I think next time I should augment the experience with real drugs so I can run with a high like everyone else does. It’s still a natural high from one point of view. I mean, what’s more natural than heroin sliding into the arm? It’s as organic as wheat and barley. “Holistic,” one might say.
“Holistic” is a great word when you’re trying to argue that a particular result is natural and inevitable. When I begin supervising a large staff of people, that’s totally how I plan to fire people. “From a holistic point of view, you’re never getting a paycheck from us again.”
Can you believe they have a magazine called Runner’s World? What is there to say about it? I bet it’s just for show. If you open it up, each page has the same message in 20 point type font: “YOU’RE IN HELL.” That’s the only Runner’s World I know about.
Uh oh, danger ahead. I’m running a pedestrian path alongside Lake Merritt, and walking towards me are three very large people. If they were vehicles, they would be wearing “CAUTION: WIDE LOAD” signs. And they are walking in tandem. How will I get by? You’re only supposed to use up half of the path. We are getting close to one other...oh, one has tried to squeeze over, but this doesn’t provide a lot of space to get between...I think we’re going to crash...I think we’re--oh god, I think--I THINK.....whoa, I really thought we were going to crash.
Okay, halfway done.
Oh, look at this girl coming towards me. Bounding lightly like a gazelle, demure drops of sweat beading her forehead. Matching spandex outfit. Here I am sweating like buffalo with little rolls of flesh undulating like a white tsunami every time I take a step, and she’s all, “Hmm, maybe I should have put some Michael Bolton into my iPod.” I hate these runner girls. You know, screw it. This time I’m going to tell her off. I’ll let her know that running doesn’t come so easily to everyone, and it’s not even real running if you just lope gracefully along with your color-coordinated clothes and soft rock mp3s with--
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Damn runner’s courtesy. You always acknowledge other runners as they pass, as though the bonds of pavement pounding make up for the fact that she is evil. Oh well, next time.
What is up with that tradition, anyway? No matter who you are, you acknowledge the other person simply because he or she is a runner. I can just see Ariel Sharon and Yasser Arafat passing each other on a jog:
“Shalom.” “Salaam.” “We’re still annexing the Gaza Strip, though.” “We will destroy you all.”
Now there’s a group of war activists coming towards me. An old hippy is sitting comfortably in one of those sit-down bicycles, pedaling along, waving a sign that says “HONK IF YOU WANT TO IMPEACH.” Oh My God...is he flashing a peace sign at me? Listen, Wavy Gravy, right now I’m in favor of the war. My head is full of pain and death. If you come across a guy on mile 3 of 4 and the last one is all uphill, and you shove something in his face that isn’t a bottle of Gatorade, you better have made enough money selling hemp clothes to have hired a lawyer for your last will and testament.
Whew. Done. Okay. But I can’t just stop. The running is only the first part of the ritual. For health’s sake, I have to do my “warming down” exercises.
Which means plopping on the couch and watching Ebert and Roeper.
just dropping by to give the obligatory “blogger acknowledgement” comment.
oh drat. i am a courtesy conformist as well!
oh well. carry on.
I never got the runner’s high either, and I’ve been running for a long time. I do get the non-runner’s low though. If I don’t go for a run, I feel rundown all day. It’s the worst of both worlds!
The only time I ever get runner’s high is after a race. The rest of the time all I feel is relief that it’s over.
I feel very sorry for all the people who depend on others’ links to get to you (being that it’s ‘gag the goose’ day and all) because they’re totally missing out today, and this is damn funny.
I’ve had runner’s high. If you mean the one that’s just like the high that people feel when they go towards the light.
runner’s high is simply those thirty seconds of downhill where you think.. hmmm I think this might be getting easier.
Ebert is looking really bad
soon it might just be roeper..
that’s sad.
and how come they like everything?
I grew up afraid of exercise and pretty sure that running was a way to make me both look stupid and feel uncomfortable at the same time. And now I am in a strange little groove where my nice 3 miles through the park feels really good, like I sometimes wish it was a longer route. And recently I started enjoying brussles sprouts too. Oh god I’m a pod person.
hey. i had a total non-courtesy-conformity moment this afternoon when i was running. i passed a runner, a guy, and gave the customary (and by the way completely understated and appropriate) nod of acknowledgement, and he literally stared at me as he panted his way past, not even keeping to the right. it’s a mad, mad, mad, mad world, i tell you.
(of course the seriously intense panting, and fact that both his eyes were sort of askew as their *normal* position, should perhaps have tipped me off. whatever. i’m a slow learner.)
Thank you for that running commentary.
I will be in a 5K this coming weekend, and I am so not ready for it. I’d be pleased if I can finish w/o slowing to a walk.
I never get the polite “hey”. But this is LA and I’m usually on a treadmill.
Next time I’m in an altercation, regardless of context, my closer will begin with “Hey, Wavy Gravy”. Thanks for adding to the arsenal.
i’ve had the “runner’s high.” but what no one ever tells you is about the “runners low,” where, after you stop, you have to sleep for like 4 extra hours just to be able to think or move again. it’s like having to completely reboot yourself. you become a lump of uselessness.
these days, i don’t run unless someone’s chasing me.
i think what they mean by runner high is “dear lord, that hurt like hell. but now its finally done, and somehow, im still breathing. thank you God for not killing me, even if it felt like it.”
or maybe that was just my interpretation of runner high so that i could actually experience it.
Greg, you never cease in being totally hilarious.
And you people who never get runner’s highs. You must have malfunctioning bodies, that at least half of why I run. It’s funny that running makes the libido of women higher (or me anyway), but kills it in men. That’s why I don’t date runners. Just a note.
I was in a race once and was passed by an amputee on crutches. No joke.
And I’m sooo going to call someone Wavy Gravy today.
Heheheh, I like your observations on running. I’ve been a cross country runner since grade school, though there was very little to it until I hit highschool. Anyway, sorry that you’ve never hit the runner’s high. I have, but not recently. Cuz, that takes like, regular work and training and stuff.
Heheh, and that runner’s courtesy? It is odd, but I love it. Besides, we all masochistically pursue pain and exhaustion, and I say that makes a community.