Where did my runger go?

I love the word "runger," coined to describe the increased appetite that comes along with running.

After my running sabbatical ended, I sat at work one day with a growling stomach and thought with delight: "The runger is back!"

It's not something I necessarily love on its own virtues, like the runner's high and the improved sleep quality, but I was glad to see it because it meant I was back running again.

I'm still running, but I'm not as rungry lately. I didn't notice this until yesterday, when (oddly) I took a rest day. My breakfast was the same — oatmeal — and came at the same time, yet before I'd even left for work, I could hear rumbling.

This wasn't a deviation from run days. What was a deviation was how it didn't subside after an hour or so at work. I broke into my lunch much earlier than normal, anywhere from one to two hours early.

Normally, I blame an increased appetite on either lack of sleep or substantial exercise; neither were true yesterday. What went on?

It dawned on me much later that night, after my usual hunger cycle had been upended a few more times (to the other extreme), that I'd read something on the New York Times Well blog about running actually suppressing appetite.

At the time, I most likely viewed it with skepticism. Not entirely unwarranted, because only at the end does it make this statement:

And longevity counts. You need to stick with the program for several months, (researcher Catia) Martins says, to truly fine-tune appetite control.

But it's true that in the early days of my running career, I was ready to plow through a snack as soon as I returned, while in the past year or so, the peanut butter graham cracker sandwiches began to sit rather heavily in my stomach.

So it's probably also the case that my midmorning cup of coffee — in between a run and lunch — satiates me and holds me over until that second meal, while a run-free morning has me eyeing my lunch bag greedily.

I did something right, according to the New York Times

Rationally, I know that any health-related article I read is likely to be disproved, then proved again, etc., in an endless and never-resolved cycle, and that I should adjust my reaction to them accordingly.

I fail at this. (See "I have to cancel my grumpy post.") And I'm unlikely to correct this failing until the glow of doing something right, according to the New York Times Well blog, wears off.

Now, I didn't exercise for 90 minutes, 15 minutes after getting my flu shot, as the research in this post suggests. But to sum up all the studies cited, it concludes:

"So for now, (a doctor) says, the best course of action is to get a flu shot, since any degree of protection is better than none, and, if you can, also schedule a visit to the gym that same day. If nothing else, spending 90 minutes on a stationary bike will make any small twinges in your arm from the shot itself seem pretty insignificant."

Or, in my case, spending 30 minutes with only minimal feeling in your toes thanks to a brisk Iowa winter wind made the tenderness a moot point. 

I have to cancel my grumpy post

Among the entries that were percolating in December but never came to fruition was one centered on the idea that I might be doing everything running-related wrong.

This was born of a New York Times Well blog post titled "For Athletes, Risks From Ibuprofen Use" and then nurtured by another post a week later titled "Why Afternoon May Be The Best Time To Exercise."

If you haven't guessed or don't follow, I do use ibuprofen, and I've significantly cut back on afternoon runs (in favor of morning or evening ones) since leaving my second-shift job.

So reading these posts while worn down from a year-plus of running without significant interruption caused some out-of-proportion irritation.

(Never mind that at the end of the afternoon running post, the experts concede they're not sure how the mouse research translates to human behavior, and that the most important thing is to exercise, period. And never mind that the ibuprofen article focused mainly on the gross risks of popping the pills right before working out, which I've never done.)

Obviously, I never got around to writing that post until now — when, refreshed by a week of just resting, I don't care. Absence is definitely making this heart, so eager to take a break, fonder of running.

And the payoff of this admiration from afar is that all the snazzy workout recommendations in the blogs I read and the latest Runner's World magazine, plus those two aforementioned lectures, are no longer fostering inferiority complexes, insecurities, defeatist attitudes or straight-up fear for my health.

Instead, it's psyching me up for 2013. (Goals to come later; I'm ambitious not only for this year but for the planning of this year.)

I knew that the rest I needed was both mental and physical, but I think now — with the clarity that extra sleep brings! — that I'd underestimated how much of it was mental.

Web wrap-up: Aug. 13 to 26

I slacked last week (and am a little ahead of myself for this week), but don't worry, this post won't become bloated as a result.

Running Is Funny: The Ultimate Marathon ... Literally. The Pisa Marathon takes place Dec. 16, a few days before the most recent end-of-the-world prediction. Organizers decided to incorporate this into their marketing strategy, making a creepy video urging you to pay to run 26.2 miles during what could be the final week of all of our lives. Watch it, but not too close to bedtime.

CBS: Dog treadmill sales brisk as pets shape up. OK, before anyone gets on a high horse about pampered pets, the article points out that animal shelters can make great use out of these, instead of forcing the poor doggies to go stir-crazy. Also, dogs (and cats) are cute. The end.

Well: How to Make the Dog Days Your Training Partner. Scientists have decided there is indeed some benefit to gritting your teeth and exercising in hot weather: When fall comes around, you'll be mentally tougher for having done so. Physically tougher? Well, at least you'll get used to the heat while you're in it ...

Remy's World: Why Are Runners So ... Inspired by the blogger who checked to see how each state was viewed, Mark Remy used the Google autocomplete search function to see what the Internet thought of runners/joggers/running/jogging.

The results, surprisingly, include many positive questions ("why are runners so ripped?") and, not surprisingly at all, refer to bodily functions that are generally not considered polite. Read and laugh.

Another Mother Runner: Winner of There She Goes Charm Necklace. Bloggers Dimity and SBS asked for what their readers would put on the front of a running pendant, and the winner's idea resonated with me:

"An exclamation point. I did not grow up athletic. I am still amazed and surprised at my ability to run long distances."

Yep, me too. I'd wear it with pride!

When la dolce vita catches up to you, it's not so sweet

It dawned on me recently, after reading yet another runner's status update/Daily Mile post/tweet, that I hadn't gone on a long run in a while. Nearly a month, in fact.

So yesterday — Sunday's rain enabled me to procrastinate — I set out on an eight-miler, bright and early. I finished in about 1:17, averaging a 9:36 pace. The key word here is average, in two senses.

One, in how those miles ranged from 8:50 to 10:27, depending on the terrain and whether the wind was canceling out the humidity or canceling out my strength.

And two, in how unremarkable the run felt. With the exception of a few highs and lows, I mostly just moved OK. 

That was 24 hours ago, and my body is definitely still demanding what the heck I did to it. There's no pain, which I appreciate, and it seems that I was able to cure the insatiable hunger and lower-back stiffness last night ... but the sleepiness and slow-moving, sore legs have stuck around.

The last long run I took, a 7.5-miler in July, didn't seem to affect me quite this much. I doubt the extra half-mile is to blame. Though the routes and weather conditions were different, it's not their fault, either.

What to blame? More like whom to blame. Me.

While it's true I've been running fairly consistently over the past month, I've also been rather self-indulgent recently. Dinner out, with appetizers and/or dessert? Yes, please. A glass of wine and/or cup of ice cream after work? You got it.

Don't worry: My alcohol tolerance hasn't shot up, nor have the buttons on my pants popped; I'm indulging in moderation, but on what's becoming a routine basis.

Fellow young athletes have shared wisdom about treats and training with me in the past.

One, my roller-derby-playing friend Jeniece, cited a blog post comparing bodies to machines — the quality of the fuel, for each, affects performance, i.e., when you're pouring junk in, don't expect stellar results.

The other, Scheels bike group leader Jordan, mentioned that he abstains from alcohol, not because he doesn't like it, but because it cancels out the gains from working out. (He has some ambitious biking goals, which I've forgotten.)

I'm not going to turn into an ascetic — even despite that New York Times blog post that destroyed my "I run for pizza" philosophy — but now that the ice cream and wine are gone from my freezer and fridge, respectively, I don't think I'll restock.

Web wrap-up: Aug. 6 to 12

Fit Bottomed Girls: 18 Things Nobody Told Me About Running. Maybe I've just read too many light-hearted pieces about discoveries made during the transition from noob to junkie, or maybe I've (gasp!) been running for long enough that I can't remember when these phenomena became surprising.

I found myself nodding in agreement with "You’ll wince at a pair of high heels with a $100 price tag, but declare it a bargain if that same tag is on your favorite running shoes" and " 'Runger' is real, and it is marvelous. Only pregnant women and runners can truly understand strange cravings at strange times." (How can I live an almost pop-free life, yet yearn for a Sprite during a long run?)

It turned out not to be the author but a commenter who prompted an "OMG you're right!" moment:

"Running isn’t really enjoyable until after you’ve gone 3 miles … maybe even 5. That is why you hated running the mile back in school — you only did the hard part!"

Leaving aside the incredible lack of fitness I had back in school — YES. I long ago noticed that the middle and end of a run typically felt better than the beginning, but until now I didn't connect this with the misery of the middle school mile.

Running Is Funny: Rupp Rolled. I learned about two new memes from Mike's post. (They're possibly not all that new, and I'm possibly way behind most of the Internet.)

One is Typical Runner, and the other one — which is far funnier and yet not related to running — is McKayla Is Not Impressed.

Some of my favorites, which went from near the top on Saturday morning to farther down than you'll click in less than 24 hours: not impressed by volunteering for the Hunger Games, by King Kong (they're making similar faces!), by taking out Osama bin Laden and by Facebook's IPO.

New York Times Well blog: Dieting vs. Exercise for Weight Loss. Studies prove Michael Pollan is right about the Western diet — in general, you can't eat like the typical American and expect to exercise off the extra calories.

I guess this is good news for folks who prefer to maintain their shape by focusing on what they eat  but not exercising, but it bummed out yours truly, who likes to declare that she runs for pizza and to tell people surprised at her sweet tooth that it's why she runs.

Web wrap-up: June 25 to July 1

Running Is Funny: An Army Jogs on Its Stomach. Mike shares the vision of a Pennsylvania man who launched a series of races, called Jog 'n Hog, based on the Krispy Creme Challenge. Each race's eating portion is tailored to the city's particular specialty.

I liked this post because of the regional delicacies it described: pepperoni balls, ice cream and clusters of caramel/nuts/chocolate. And I thought it was worth sharing because of the call for what your city's food item would be.

Des Moines is apparently known for steak de burgo and Graziano's sausage. My former residence, Rockton, would have to feature Dairy Haus ice cream, and my true hometown, Roscoe, would definitely serve up pizza from Pietro's; extending to my home metro area, we could pig out on Edwards Apple Orchard donuts, anything from BeefaRoo or Swedish pancakes.

Now I'm hungry for home.

Another Mother Runner: Time to Talk Dirty. Sarah lists punny slang terms that describe mud race phenomena. I did the Warrior Dash last year, so this sounds pretty familiar as well as accurate. My favorite? "Souv-in-ear – the keepsake dirt you find in your ear three days after the race." For me it wars more like souv-in-toenail, but that's much less catchy.

Well: What Runners Can Learn From Cheetahs/Running Is Funny: Other Things Runners Can Learn From Cheetahs. The New York Times article (first link) is highly scientific and discusses the mechanics of how cheetahs and greyhounds move so fast. What humans can learn from them, it says, is that strong thighs and lighter shoes probably help, but that "there’s no indication" that the critters' lolling tongues boost speed. Michael Jordan probably would beg to differ, and judging from some of my hot-and-hilly runs, I'd say it's at least worth a little psychological boost. That's probably just a child of the three-peat era talking.

Mike's post, the second link, is easier to digest. Lots of pictures of cute cheetahs of all ages and sizes. Also, there are far-more-practical tips from cheetahs: I don't think I'll struggle putting "Cuteness trumps speed" (I've gotten some hollas recently, sunscreen, sweat, grimace and all) and "Recovery days are very important" into practice.

RW Daily: Congrats to Our 1 Millionth 'Avid Runner'!. Mark Remy points out, correctly, that articles never describe "runners" without using the adjective "avid." He explains the distinction:

"Avid runners are people who run and then talk about it, even to people who don't run and don't care. Also, avid runners wear race T-shirts instead of giving them to Goodwill."

Hurray! I'm an avid runner, because I talk about it to people who neither run nor care! Thanks, Mark.