Why I hate running

Ok, I'll be honest. I hate almost all cardio, I shouldn't just pick on running. My trainer once tried to draw a correlation to which forms of cardio training I found most onerous and the strength of my hot white hatred.

Here is the list:

Stairmaster - not sure, haven't really done it
Arm bike - I wish I could set it on fire and would be happy to bring my own gasoline
Stationary bike - after 10 minutes I kind of want to stick something in my eye
Regular bike - they kinda scare me. Balancing, going fast, braking, who thinks this is a good idea?!
Elliptical - I'm really pretty sure this is a special form of torture for girls like me with thighs that need their own zip code. Proof of evil here on earth.
Rowing - being good at it is not enough to keep me from wanting to burn my eyebrows off. I'm that bored when I row
Running - at this point it's hard to say how I feel except that my body and my brain might disagree.

Here's the thing. My body despises running. Like, hatred akin to a thousand burning nuns. And it lets me know. I get all of the feelings other people do (except for the oft reported "rush you get after!" Ummm, no. Unless that so-called rush is synonymous with the simultaneous feeling of wanting to hurl and wanting to die, I have not experienced the rush my friends who run tell me about) such as: burning lungs, heavy legs, shin splints, etc. But in addition I feel other things like hobbling foot cramps, deep abdominal cramps, and nausea. You'd think the first things on my list would be my bad knees (both having now been reconstructed) and my asthma, and to be sure, those things kept me from running for a long time. (Hence the reason I never learned to run until now. ) But no, my feet! Agggghhhh!

My body hates running so much, but it must be a love/hate relationship because my body also responds to running. I can't even yet run a full mile without doing it in intervals. But when I'm really fighting to make sure I get my runs in, I lose weight. I so wish it were otherwise but thems the facts.

I am pretty analytical. I'm constantly walking around with data in my head, thoughts about correlation and causation, and looking always, always at patterns and benefits vs. drawbacks. I would be an excellent medical researcher. I was an excellent lab rat when I was running my abusive adviser's lab in her stead. It's just who I am. I can't deny that running gets the job done. I have evidence. I can't deny it. What I can do is to write a blog post by way of procrastinating tonight's run.

If feeling craptastic during and after my run was the whole story, I think I would be able to analyze and logically balance out and say that the weight loss was worth the discomfort. My problems with running run deeper though. For one, there is one shining star in my line up of despised cardio: Swimming. I love swimming. I would be willing to put a sticker on my car stating that I heart swimming. Love it. It makes me feel good, alive, accomplished, graceful, and athletic. And it's fun! If it wasn't bad for my hair and if it didn't require the time for an extra shower, I would swim for an hour a day. So, I'm always comparing and running becomes the badly behaved red-headed step child next to swimming.

The other problem is that . . . I don't see the POINT of running. The only good argument I've gotten for being able to run is in case of out-running a hoard of zombies if one should happen to survive the apocalypse. My very smart and hilarious friend once said, "You don't have to be fast, just have to not be last." (I so want a tee-shirt stating that with a zombie on it)

Now, my knowledge of zombies is deep enough to be spooky for some. What I've learned about zombies, variations in their manifestation and their pathology, and survival tips definitely warrants its own post. For now I'll say, that in addition to the CDC's recommendations for emergency preparedness during a zombie attack I do think cardio could help keep me alive during the end of the world. When I'm feeling lazy, though, I do find myself saying, "I have asthma and hypoglycemia. I really doubt I would survive the first wave."

Ok, all, with that, enough procrastination. Must. Go. Run. In. Case. Of. Zombies.