Runner's High

OK, I admit I was jealous of K this morning. She decided last night to start running on our treadmill to stay in some semblance of shape should she decide to resume playing soccer. So at 5:30 this morning, she rolled out and trotted off. At 6:00 I dragged myself out of bed and hailed her grouchy good morning as we passed in the hallway. She was pumped, happy, hyper and ready to go. I still had bed hair and one eye closed. Harrumph.

After 30 quality minutes with "Real Simple" and the offending treadmill, I have but one question. Where's my runner's high? I didn't feel refreshed, I felt itchy from the sweat. Actually I felt an immense sense of relief that I won't have time to walk tomorrow (I have a good reason). So are "they" saying "runner's high"? Or just that runners are high? 'Cause there is a difference.

Let's face it. I still fight my weight because I'm a slug. The treadmill is incompatible with my sluglike state. I secretly wish for one of those fitness makeovers... but then again I more frequently fantasize about an evening alone on the couch with the remote and a stack of Blockbuster videos.

However -- in the fantasy, I am drinking Diet Coke and eating Smart Pop Kettle Corn. That should count for something. And I had a vegetarian black bean burger for lunch yesterday. So no one can say I'm not making an effort here ...