There are a lot of reasons I love being an athlete, and (for better or worse) many of them center around being an endorphin junkie. Yes, it’s great knowing that training is good for my health (occasional injuries not withstanding). And I can’t complain about the positive effect training has on my physical appearance and abilities. But at the end of the day, the blissed-out, endorphin-laced feeling that accompanies a kick-ass workout is really hard to beat.
Unfortunately endorphins are, ultimately, unreliable bastards. They lure you in with the promise of sweet euphoria if you just push yourself a little bit harder. Sometimes they come through, and sometimes they hold back and keep you hoping for more.
But they also sneak up and reward you at the most unexpected times. An easy few miles just to try your legs out, and there they are waiting at the end to embrace and reward you for your patience and self-discipline.
Like too-many classic bad-boys, they can be frustrating, but are ultimately irresistible.