Where Oh Where is My Runner’s High?

That elusive runner’s high appears to be impossible to achieve if one isn’t, well, running. Believe me, I have tried. I am still trying. I have been on a mission to capture that pure and overwhelming sense of exhilaration since I injured my foot after my last run on December 28th. Yes, I am counting.

Clearly this is not my usual food-centric topic, but when I am not in my kitchen or at work, I can often be found trying to “chase” down, so to speak, that runners euphoria. Oh how I miss it!

That silly, goofy, grinning, all-consuming sense of well-being does not appear to be attainable without logging in my usual miles on the street. I tried yet again yesterday to no avail. This was my morning:

15 minute walk to the gym.

15 minutes climbing stairs.

60 minute barre class.

60 minutes on the upright bike. With interval sprints.

15 minute walk back from the gym.

Another 20 minutes or so on the treadmill during my physical therapy session.

Alas. No high. No giddiness. No bizarre yet urgent need to just stand up and clap. It’s madness I tell you! Madness! If you are a runner, you understand. If you are not, perhaps now it’s time to start. Will you enjoy the actual running part? Probably not. But the intoxicating bliss afterwards is magic. Sort of like the 9 course tasting menu at Per Se.

For those who can, lace up your shoes and go jog a mile for me. For now, I am going to curl up with kitty and play cat. That looks pretty darn blissful too.



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