That's Fit

On the rare occasion I have a "night on the town," I'm hesitant beforehand. I don't go out very often, I'm out of practice, and there's about a million other things I should be doing with my time. Plus, in spite of the momentary stress relief that comes from knocking back a few, I'm fairly certain I'll regret it the next morning.

For me, this is a lot like jogging. Last night, I was dreading this column. Not because I have any problem with writing it, but to do so with any self-respect meant I'd have to actually leave the house and go running. I was feeling tired, uninspired, and very comfortable on my sofa -- physical fitness was the last thing on my mind.

But, knowing I'd probably enjoy it, I dragged myself out onto the street. Within minutes, I was starting to feel better -- the stress of working, child rearing, and sooner-than-expected visits by out-of-town relatives just slightly less insistent as I pushed on. And the better I felt, the harder I pushed -- to the point where it almost seemed reckless. I was heading out of control, but before I caved in, there was a moment -- just like that moment when, even though it seems like a bad idea, you decide to have just one more beer -- and I could see my future self struggling for breath after sprinting harder than my lungs could handle.

Nevertheless, my judgment already impaired, I threw caution to the wind, and continued on my brief, ill-advised foray into fitness hedonism.

And man, did it feel good. The worry and concern I'd been shouldering all day faded completely, suddenly unimportant, into the background. Instead I was focused only on experiencing this moment, right now, without a care to tie me down!

Then, of course, I had to stop. I'd over-indulged, got in over my head, and now my body was giving me a firm reprimand for such out-of-control behavior. I had runner's hangover -- painfully short of breath, legs burning in a way I knew would still be there the following morning, and swearing to myself that I would never be that careless again.

Fortunately, however, as with the real thing, my runner's hangover will fade. In fact, I'm sure that in no time at all I'll be back on the street, drowning my sorrows in a midnight jaunt around the neighborhood.