Ever have one of those days?
You know the kind I mean. Nothing seems to go right. Your ability to cope like a rational person decreases disproportionately to each thing that goes wrong, so that by the end of the day, you are a cranky, sour, angry bucket of acid, only marginally more fun than an alligator with a toothache.
I had one of those days.
I came home and pouted. I scowled. I seethed and I churned.
Then I put on my shoes and headed for the treadmill.
I put in a DVD. I warmed up.
Then I cranked up the speed as fast I could handle for 800 metres. I mean I really red-lined it – for me, anyway.
I dropped the speed back to a jog. I mopped my brow. I caught my breath. Then, I did it again. Then once more after that.
Of course, a funny thing happens when I go all out. I have to adjust my stride and control my breathing. I have to convince myself to hang on because I know I can complete the 800m. I really have to concentrate.
In that time, my pout receded. My scowl turned into an expression of concentration. My seething was redirected to powering my muscles, and my churning stopped so all my energy could go in the same direction.
And just like that, I felt better.