Q Running always used to make me feel so great. So pumped and energetic, full of endorphins, right? Well, they have gone. I still run regularly, it's just that I never feel "high" like I did before. What's wrong with me, and where have all those endorphins gone? I need them back.
A I was pondering your question during my run yesterday morning, and trying to recall how I used to feel after a run back in the glory days when I was 20-something and new to the sport: completely euphoric is how I remember feeling, as if I could take on the world. It was so pronounced, this “feel-good” factor, that it had me floating through the rest of the day on cloud nine.
In stark contrast, I staggered through my rain-soaked run yesterday, conscious of various nagging twinges in my ageing aching body, world weary to boot, and never coming close to entering the “zone” where I might slip into a timeless world of no effort, no clocks, no yesterday, and no tomorrow. Oh no.
I remained irritated and distracted throughout, with a head full of worry. Plus, I was physically uncomfortable from running in the pouring rain without waterproof kit or a hood, and getting soaked.
It was a gritty solitary run, during which I never lost myself for a second. And I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as feeling “high” afterwards. I reflected how far removed this experience was from those runs 20 years ago.
Partly I reasoned it must be my age, in that I experience life in a slightly more mellow fashion at 40 than I did in my early 20s.
A run, much like a party full of strangers, doesn’t excite quite the same adrenalin rush or hold the novelty value that it used to. And, in part, surely it is that my body and mind have grown accustomed to the routine, so these regular runs just form a necessary part of my day that my body and mind has learned to expect. Which also detracts from any potential wow factor.
I wonder too how accurate my memory is of those halcyon running days of yore. How many actual running “highs” did I experience, and how much of it is just looking back through rose-tinted glasses?
The fading buzz
All of these factors are probably contributing to the fading or absent buzz, in both our cases. Is there a way to recapture it, though, or at least to improve our post-run pleasure?
We’ve all heard of these happy hormones – endorphins – which traditionally have been assumed to be the reason for that elusive runners’ high, although it may well be another group of chemicals that are at least partly responsible for that fuzzy feeling called anandemides.*
Whatever hormones, drugs or receptors are at play, we just want them playing again: the more pertinent question is, how can we increase our chances of engaging them and reclaiming that elusive high?
According to research, it’s clear that to get really, really high, you need to be running for a long time – think ultra marathoners and the like (note how opiates really come into play only after two-hour running sessions) – so for those of us who run short distances regularly, a more realistic access to that nirvana-like state is to run at tempo pace.**
This morning I thought, what better way to answer your question than to test this information, so instead of my 30-minute 5k slow jog through the woods I went for a 45-minute tempo run (I gauged tempo by running so that I was more out of breath than usual, but not so out of breath that I felt compelled to stop). I managed to sustain this pace for the whole run.
How do I feel now, just back from the run? Higher, for sure, but not nearly as high as I remember after those runs of yesteryear.
I also question how much of this better buzz is to do with it being a bright and sunny day, and a purposeful run that had me so focused on something specific: a goal. And then feeling pleased with myself for having sustained the increased pace and doing what I’d set out to do.
I’m quite certain all these factors are contributing to my overall post-run pleasure centres lighting up again at last. And I also know that I will be enjoying and exploiting the aftermath of this run now and for the rest of my day.
Will I be repeating the exercise? Definitely. It pays to run outside of our comfort zones and it is a really good thing to be reminded of that, so thank you for asking this question and dragging me out of mine.
But I will also enjoy my slow shorter runs, and probably more frequently, because I know that in so doing I am reaping all those other psychological and physical benefits – improved overall mood, stronger heart and lungs, better immune system, increased bone density, joint strength and stability, stronger legs, leaner frame, better focus and concentration, improved sleep – which have always been of far greater value to me.
Top priority
And it is all these factors, and more, that make regular running my top priority because they add up to a much healthier and happier life.
A patient wife and mother I doubt I will ever make, but take away my runs and I become monster-mum. And I’d choose patience – even in the smallest doses, a sprinkling of Zen calm over my busy day, and a moment of clarity during a difficult task – enjoyed regularly, over a lifetime of runners’ highs.
The Grit Doctor says
Forget about chasing that fantasy endorphin rush. Like falling in love, the intensity fades, and what remains is where all the really good stuff is at.
* Anandamide, from the Sanskrit word for “bliss”, is very similar to THC, and it produces pleasant feelings of relaxation and pain cessation similar to those often described by runners and pot smokers. Another is opiates and endorphins.
A small 2008 study found natural opioid production correlated with long-distance running (the runners ran for two hours) and feelings of euphoria afterward.
There may also be a release of other chemicals, called neurotransmitters, including norepinephrine, dopamine and serotonin that can increase feelings of euphoria, according to Jessica Matthews, assistant professor of health and exercise science at Miramar College in San Diego, US (iti.ms/1MDIniX).
** According to research, you're more likely to experience runners' high when you run just a little slower than your 10K race pace, also called tempo pace. Slow down more than that, and you don't produce enough stress. Run faster, and you get overwhelmed by the effort. But at your tempo-run pace, you're in the zone. Ruth Field is author of Run Fat B!tch Run, Get Your Sh!t Together and Cut the Crap.
