I have a small confession to make. I did something yesterday that might seem a little bit crazy.
Crazy? You Dan? No way! you say rather sarcastically.
It all started with a tweet. Or perhaps it was a comment on Facebook. I forget, because well, I forget things. Initially, I tried to ignore it, but all through the day it stuck with me, constantly whispering in my ear like some bizarro homunculus. Do it, the voice whispered. Do it. I thought I was powerful enough to withstand the message. I was wrong.
Now please don’t think I’m a giant suck-bag in the world of will power. I’d like to think I’m not – that I do have some sort of mind-over-matter control of my life. And truth be told, I was doing well – fighting off certain tempting advances with a sense of calm and decorum. Now, that’s not to say that I wasn’t teetering back and forth in terms of my decision – because I was – but overall I was fighting the urge. Fighting the temptation. And I was winning (or at least holding my own).
But then something happened to shift the balance in favour of doing in place of not doing. That shift was brought about by a text message by my friend Mel. Once I got that, my choice of doing or of not doing was made. I was doing and in a big kind of way.
What was I doing?
I’ll give you a hint. It’s 10 kilometres long and it is happening this weekend in Toronto.
That’s right folks, for whatever reason I’ve found myself compelled to sign up for yet another race – the Toronto Yonge Street 10k to be precise – which means I will have 4 race weekends in a row (where last weekend was the first of said race weekends). W00t!
“People, it seems, have evolved to be addicted to exercise.”
Given the runner’s high that I often feel when I’m out for a longer run, I can’t disagree with this. I mean, if I didn’t enjoy running I sure as hell wouldn’t be doing it. I’ve never been a sports person, I’m not a fan of competition unless it’s with myself, and I’m not one to chase after a puck, or a ball, or even a golden snitch. But running – there’s something different about running. Maybe it’s the fact that I couldn’t really run as a kid because of asthma. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t run as a kid because I was portly (read obese). Maybe it’s because I like the challenge.
Or maybe – just maybe – it’s because running produces marijuana-like chemicals in my body.
That must be it.
- Eep! (consumedbywanderlust.wordpress.com)
- Amazeballs And Awesomesauce (consumedbywanderlust.wordpress.com)
- Golden Snitch (cutoutandkeep.net)
- Help us cover the Boston Marathon (boston.com)
- High temperatures pose dangerous threat to Boston marathon runners (nj.com)
- Runner’s High Hypotheses (expsychlab.com)