as you can tell pretty much just by looking at me, i’ve never been one of those people who just exercise because it’s fun. i engage in specific activities which i enjoy, and if they happen to involve physical exertion — swimming, biking, yoga — well, fabulous, but that’s not really the point. (well, actually, there’s a caveat — i like weight lifting. it’s fun and doesn’t really have any other point. but, it’s certainly the exception here.)

there was a time in grade school i really liked running. i badgered my mom for proper running shoes and i ran around all over the place. (i especially liked running in the halls at school, which was great fun.) i even went out for the track team, but my middle school was of the stupidly competitive variety, rather than the squishy inclusive kind, and i didn’t make it, which sort of soured me on the entire concept for years. (hello, i was 9; it would have killed you to humor me? screw you, mr. powers. (hey, i’m a grudge-holding kind of girl. and if i’ve never bought any reeboks since, well, … nike’s got a better ad campaign anyways.))

but i have to say that one of my most effective tactics for getting rid of real anger is going for a run. i don’t do furious anger runs very often, mostly because i don’t actually get that angry very often — i get irritated easily, and i get annoyed easily, but generally speaking i have to already be in a sub-par frame of mind and then you still really have to work at it to make me angry. and running angry is a special kind of angry. it’s the kind of mental space where you’re not thinking about anything at all except shutting off.

i got really angry tonight.

now my legs are going to fall off and i’ll probably limp around like a giant wimp tomorrow, but life seems a whole lot better, all things considered.

hooray for endorphins!