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The Endorphin High

I’ve written two posts this week but have published neither. Why? Mostly because they were a bit sad really. A bit sad, a bit disconnected and frankly a bit odd. Kind of how I’ve felt this week. I can’t put my finger on it precisely.

But rather than dwell on that, I’m going to talk about the best known cure for people of my disposition; people who are likely at times to feel a bit down, to feel a bit sensitive to the world around them and to take things that weren’t intended as such a bit personally. It’s very simple really. It’s called endorphin, the best legal high I know.

run quote

I like to take my hit of endorphin from a run through the countryside, getting muddy is an added bonus given by the wonderful British weather.

I like to feel the rain, particularly when I’m running fast and up hill and getting very hot. It’s refreshing and invigorating.

I like to feel the ache in my muscles as I walk through the door afterwards and get asked by my two girls how far I ran (7 miles Mummy? I can run 20 easily).

Wow I look great!

Wow I look great!

But sometimes I’ll take my hit of endorphin from the amazing exercise class I do locally. An hour of high intensity and core strength. Nothing like feeling the strength in your own body to beat away the blues.

And today, after getting my hit of endorphin I realised that it was time to accept some of the things that had been bothering me and causing me anxiety. I reminded myself that anxiety serves no one but the demons that cause it. It is only ever detrimental to health, it robs you of joy and it’s terrible for bringing on frown lines (and let’s face it now I’m 40 I do not need any help in that department, mother nature is doing quite enough of that for me thank you very much.)

I decided I don’t want to nurture that anymore. And to do that I need to learn to accept the things I can’t change. Particularly those things that make you want to throw china just for the release of tension as you see it smash (I haven’t done this I hasten to add but anyone who has had to deal with the ineptitude of Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs will be familiar with this feeling). I need to see the funny side when Tilly goes to school with holes in her tights, rather than see it as a failing on my part as her Mother. And I need to let a million other things, big and small, wash over me rather than bury themselves under my skin.

I’m suffering from what every other woman I know suffers from. A severe lack of time. Time to do the stuff that keeps the wheels moving in the right direction, time to sit back and enjoy the fruits of my labours, time to plan, or organise my life. Time to cook nutritious food for my kids, rather than relying on fish fingers. Time to do the work I want to do not just the stuff I have to do. You know the usual type of thing.

I’m not an exercise freak, I can be a bore when it comes to running, but I only am because it’s genuinely the one natural thing I can do to chase away the black dog. It’s mother nature’s gift to us all (perhaps in exchange for the frown lines and crows feet?). Make time to do something with your body, even if you feel tired, miserable and pointless at times, everything seems so much better after an endorphin hit.

Of course you could always just hug your children a bit more often. That seems to be remarkably effective too. As does dark chocolate. Who knew.



  1. Am with you on both, dark chocolate and moving the legs. Never did thank you enough for helping me a few years ago when it all got a bit too much. Sending love x

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