Runner's High, runner's low

No lie I had missed the rush of the wind against my face! See, I have been off the trail with a groin pull 😁 Ouch!! Since October. Torture. Six months. It's been that long?? This stupid injury is no joke. Every time I even tried to jog, a running stance quickly took me back to that October pain...... Misery. So I was afraid to even imagine myself ever running again. Maybe I should float a bike idea to hubby, maybe I need to reignite my swimming hobby coz obviously ground was no friend of mine. Air and water may be safer.

My point is, it was depressing not to be able to put in miles on my Runkeeper. My shoes looked sad in the back of the closet. And I feared my running clothes would shrink.....😝😝😝. You get my drift.

Foam rolling and stretching I did, but inconsistency yields very minimal positive results. Another excuse to throw in the towel. So I just let it go. Let it go, let it go🎶🎶🎶🎤. Frozen is one of the best movies of all time. What was I saying? Oh, oh! Yeah. Results. Or lack thereof. Then last week I thought I felt...... No pain, no discomfort! Really? Can't be healed can it? I'm through with running. Kaput, done, finito. Then weird, hubby suggested getting back to being active. Do I look fat? 😳. What I shared was my fatigue despite plenty of sleep. Never mentioned that my groin injury might finally be healed.

That was a sign. So I toyed with the idea of running again. He must know something I don't. Sneaked to the gym. Walked on the mill then jogged half a mile. I must have held my breath the entire time, waiting on the now familiar dull pain that starts from where my pelvis meets and that tendon on the inner right upper thigh that runs to the inner knee to radiate thunder. Nothing. I get off the treadmill expecting my right leg to give out in pain. Nothing. My excitement is held at bay, chained in doubt and darkness. Two days later I dared run a mile. What? No limp, no ouch? No nada? I allow myself to glimpse the future, with the wind rushing against my face again.... running Gilbert's race again.

I knew my game had to be different this time around. I had to be patient with myself. I had to be hard on myself even if I didn't like it. Yes, I had to walk even when every fiber of my being wanted to let the Kenyan legs out and run till my lungs couldn't take it anymore. I had to listen, really listen to my body and protect it; even from myself.

I have experienced the runner's high. It is intoxicating. I have also experienced the runner's low. It is suffocating and almost depressing if you let it. Whatever position of the tide you find yourself, find ways to deal with the situation. I learnt to enjoy yoga during my lows, and in so doing, have carried the habit through to my highs to prevent injury through adequate stretching.

Happy running my friends!