Some kind of happiness is measured out in miles.

Well, I have successfully done TWO sessions of lifting/core work this week, one Sunday night during Mad Men, and one this morning to the podcast of Car Talk. And I must have done a good job the other night, as I hurt all over on Monday morning (but in that good, I-just-used-all-my-muscles way). My quads were tight and my neck stiff, so I held off running that day and instead did a reasonably quick five miler last night. Quads complained, but held up and I made it through feeling quite strong. I want more of my runs to feel like this. All of my runs (short of three ever since 2005) make me feel better after, even if I don’t run as far or as fast as I set out. Maybe a little more than half make me feel awesome and powerful while actually running (the others, while almost never painful, just don’t feel like I’m in control; I feel off balance, overextended, or just like stopping). I want to develop or cultivate a relationship with running in which I love the act itself (more), not just enjoy its rewards. And I want to reap those rewards, too: a leaner musculature, faster PRs, more mileage (the longer the run, the greater the feeling of purification and release). I want to set goals and MEET them, whether that’s as huge as running a whole marathon or having flat abs, or as small as fitting back into my skinniest jeans (and I can still zip them, it’s just not okay) or setting the treadmill faster and/or its incline just a little higher next time, and finishing strong.

Tomorrow, bright and early, I will attack the towpath again! It’s been weeks since I’ve been out to run there, and therefore weeks since I’ve run longer than five miles at a stretch. Since this week has felt so good, I’m shooting for ten miles (also, the longest single run since the half-marathon in May). Wish me luck!

Lots of mediocre music lately, but my playlist has somehow swelled to 189 songs! Toward the end of my run Tuesday, “Hey Bulldog,” by the Beatles came on (BPM 156), hence the title.