Most people who know me know that they need to back off when I get hungry. I'm not pleasant when I'm hungry. And when I'm stressed, I have a tendency to get busy, miss a meal and then end up in a heinous mood because I'm ravenous and overwhelmed.
I haven't slipped back into a consistent running schedule post-half. For the past three weeks, I've gone running when I've had time. I haven't made time for running. Turns out, this is as bad for my mood as being hungry is.
I started a part-time adjunct professor position this week. It was an opportunity that came up unexpectedly, and I wasn't entirely prepared. Though I'm thrilled to be doing something that is closely related to my career goals, I've had to figure out how to balance this new adventure with continuing to work evenings in the restaurant biz. Add that with a poor sleep schedule, and let's just say my mood was less than savory.
Until last night. I didn't want to run. But I had to run. I had just signed up for the White Rock marathon, which I plan to use as a training run for the Houston marathon in January. I couldn't put my training schedule off any longer. I found my running clothes, laced up my shoes, stared at my feet for a little bit and then hit the road with a sigh.
The effect was instantaneous. My tension and frustration and foul move slipped away with each stride. I felt good. I glided through 3.5 miles and felt I could go on forever.
So, friends, family, countrymen, next time you see me in a foul mood, feed me and then ask if I've gone for my run yet.
