The First Half Mile

I don't know that I've ever gotten a runner's high. Maybe I've never gone far enough for the endorphins to really kick in, even though I've been running 3-plus miles for my regular outings and am debating ramping my weekend training to include a long run. Going that distance doesn't seem to be much of an issue now, and I love the point that feels like you can just run forever (maybe that is the endorphins, after all). It's the starting out is still the biggest obstacle I seem to face.

Once I get passed the first half mile, I feel like I could keep going long after I had planned to stop. But before I get to that point, I feel as though every step along that 2,640 feet could be my last for that particular run and continuing on seems like an almost dizzying prospect. After that would-be final footfall, I wouldn't even bother walking home. Instead, I'd collapse in a hyperventilating pile of exhaustion or curl up in a little ball and wait for rescue, especially in the hot and humid weather that has been plaguing my runs lately.

OK, I admit that is bit of an exaggeration, however, the thought of cutting things short does enter my mind more than a few times in that period. My legs are still tight, as I often have a bad habit of not warming up properly and just want to get out and run; my lungs are a little achy, and I sometimes still get that a small hint of that stitch in my side trying to convince me that I am still too out of shape to go much longer.

In that first half mile of almost every run, I have to fight to keep going, telling myself that it will get better if I keep going. I have yet to regret pushing passed that mental block. Even though I end up hot, sweaty, and a little smelly, I never wish I hadn't gone out for a run or kept going when I could've gone home early.

Still, I can't help but wonder if this is a hurdle I'll always have as a runner. Although I am still pretty much a novice, I am not a complete newbie. I ran fairly regularly back in college and off and on throughout my adult life. More importantly, I have been keeping up with it better than ever now that I am in my mid-thirties. When I was younger, it was always the end of a route that I was dreading; it was that last half mile that seemed the longest, as though it would take me hours to finally get to cool down and go home. Now, it is the complete opposite. I find myself longing for the days when starting out was easy and finishing was the hard part. That just seems to make more sense, anyway.

On the other hand, I really like that the last half mile no longer seems like any distance at all. In fact, once I get to even the last mile, it feels like I'm almost home and if I wanted to I could even go another half mile or more.

(I'd be lying, though, if I said that I was ever unhappy I stopped instead of actually going that extra mile. I figure it's best to stop when I still feel good about the run, than going until I really do collapse in a pile of exhaustion. But maybe that's just me.)