I'm pulling a Lance Armstrong. Fair enough, its not nearly as dramatic an encore to my sport - and nobody's really watching -but I'm back for more cross country action.It's been nearly 3 years since I ran a trail run, and even longer since my last cross country event. Today, I answered the call of my running club for one female runner - we needed enough finishers to win the league championships. All I had to do was cover 5.7 km.
It is amazing racing without a smidgen of pressure, with no expectations and ignoring the clock. I slipped into my old orange spikes, slapped the legs down and burst into a few strides hoping my legs would follow my pumping arms. Not quite there yet.
I received a finish time, but opted not to do the math. I put in a good effort, but it became very apparant midway through the race that I'm nowhere near the fitness level I'd like to be to start chasing the pack. Instead, I sat comfortably behind a girl with taught calves and broad shoulders who had a steady pace going and was strong on hills.
I finished a book recently called Ultimate Fitness, written by a journalist for the New Yorker who delved into the science and social customs of the sport. The chapter on endorphins I found particularly interesting - there is very little evidence for the 'runner's high' as it is known. It is near impossible to accurately measure endorphin update during physical activity and circulating markers are only a proxy to what affects the brain. The author describes the effect the runners high can have on motivating individuals to keep active, and compares those lucky enough to experience it to others who exercise day in day out without this extra boost.
I sat and thought, after my race, what it takes for me to experience this and how important a factor it is. At the moment, I stay active to keep fit and for social rewards. In absence of any extreme stimulus, I am still highly motivated. At the same time, there are more subtle, mood-enhancing effects of exercise that are sufficient to keep my emotions buoyed - an effect more valuable, I think, then an extreme high that comes at the cost of physical comfort.
Today I found a somewhat happy medium. There was something at least moderately entralling about being back on the turf - kitted out, part of a team, mud on my legs, sweating it out, and even sporting a war wound from the effort (the blood was nothing harrowing - i think i clipped a branch somewhere!). And though it wasn't quite the same as the effect of a championship effort, I must admit it was worth the absence of pressure. Although there was an inkling of desire for something bigger in the spring...
