I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I think the notion that running is a fun activity is a myth.
A conspiracy, even, propagated by Nike and Gatorade.
I'm not saying I don't believe that running is good for you, that it doesn't burn calories and tone muscles. That's why I do it. But I certainly do not believe that it is fun.
I'm not sure what this runner's high people speak of is. There might be a slight tinge of accomplishment when I've finished, but during, there is no high-- just sweat and gasping for air.
(To be fair, I may be missing the gene for natural highs. I also get absolutely no rush from gambling. I just stare at the slot machine when I'm done and think "Damn, I just wasted two dollars.")
However, even worse than the exhaustion is the boredom. This is why I have a mix on my iPod entitled the "Make-Running-Not-Boring Mix". Because cardio is really, really boring. I try to overstimulate the hell out of myself while on a treadmill or elliptical trainer. I listen to upbeat music, I watch the televisions in front of me (which are, cruelly, always on the Food Network-- visions of cheesecake and pasta floating before me), I flip through magazines, I challenge myself to random games in my head... but I still can't help but watch my time tick by, second by second, wondering when this sweaty boredom will elapse.
Despite all these complaints, at three plus months, I have beat my personal record for regular gym attendance. The results are nice, I must admit. I am more inclined to check myself out when emerging from the shower, and perhaps even pose a little. Lines are beginning to trace themselves onto my stomach, indicating an emerging
two-pack six-pack. Biceps are beginning to pop onto my arms. My boyfriend is making sweet little comments.
But that doesn't mean I don't sulk and pout on weekend mornings, drawing out the syllables of "soooo boooorrrrriiing" as he remains wrapped up in delicious blankets, and I lace up my running shoes.