A Running Commentary

The sweat runs completely unchecked down my face, my heart rate has just attained an unhealthy level, and my whole body feels as if a giant is slamming it against the pavement. What could cause this sort of duress you ask? Well, running of course, it’s cyclocross season and therefore it’s time for my cycling-only body to hurl itself around my neighborhood at embarrassingly slow speeds.My normal reasons for running are based around disaster scenarios, like I’m being chased by bandits, or my house is on fire, so running on my own accord always feels just a little foreign. The funny thing is that prior to my first run of cyclocross season I’m always convinced that I look pretty pro out there. This myth continues for about the first half of the first song blasting out of my iPod. Those one or two minutes are pretty sweet and I always feel like I could just whip out a marathon right then and there. But then the true misery of running sets in. My legs begin to feel as if my girlfriend has been injecting them with liquefied lead while I sleep and my brain never seems to function quite right through the endless pounding of the road. Style by minute six of my run has completely gone out the window and I’ve turned into someone trapped in the desert crawling from sand dune to sand dune. And, I’m going so slow that every passing vehicle has plenty of time to observe my suffering, I can always picture them saying, “look at this jerk”. At least on the bike my misery can only be observed for a second or two. As I near the end of my runs I always wait for the “runners high” to set in, for me to just start feeling like I’m running on air…but for some reason this never happens. I get more of a runner’s low I think, my calves cramp up and my lungs can only take in a quarter of their usual air allotment. Is all this pain and suffering really worth it you ask? Well just discuss it with my backside while I gallop past you on the first run-up of the season…see you then. (-Zach Johnson)