So I don’t even know if anyone looks to see if I wrote anymore or if anyone would care, but decided to send out a tale, not from the 10^th floor, but from my apartment in Pittsburgh where I am attending grad school at Duquesne, for those who may not have known. So in regards to the title of this post I did get high today. After transplant it was made quite clear that drugs and any more than a little bit of alcohol were not to be used. So why am I admitting it you ask? Because I got a little thing called runners high….clever I know. So let’s begin by building the back story to why I was finally hit with the runners high. First I must admit that since transplant I have been more blessed than most patients. I haven’t had a rejection (knock on wood) and was able to leave for school before most patients would be cleared to do so. Also because of my age I was able to get into working out pretty easily…that is except for running. So considering I’m 25 in a month it’s been pretty much 13 years since I tried running and 15 years since I was able to run long distance without needing to stop to keel over. When trying to get back into a workout routine my legs reminded me often that it had been 15 years especially when it came to the task of running. I was able to walk forever and use the elliptical no problem but running for me was like bambi trying to walk. Considering the lack of athletics growing up I was determined to be able to run though and it’s only fitting the one thing that in the past came hardest to me would still be the thing standing in my way. When I began my calves and I would do battle on a daily basis. It was as if they were not part of my body and were eating away at my leg. If they were part of my body then I reasoned little gremlins were trailing me as I ran and stabbing me in the leg. Regardless of how I tried to reason all I wanted was to figure out a way to win the battle and feel what it was like to run again without wanting to drink an oxygen tank. For whatever reason it seemed moving to Pittsburgh did the trick. I had been trying to increase the amount of time I could run every day. At first all I could run was 1 minute before needing to stop. Eventually I would get to 3 and 5, but then I thought I was stuck there until finally was able to run for 6 minutes then 7 and then just yesterday 8 minutes. It’s funny because anyone athletic would be like psh 8 minutes..no big deal… but to me it was. You might have noticed in a couple posts I was never too short on confidence but going to a gym full of young college folks who don’t have trouble exercising can get to you, because it’s not like I wear a shirt that says don’t judge me I just had a heart transplant. It may be a bit rude but when the chubby kid on the treadmill is running a million miles at a million mph you tend to wish better for yourself. So getting back to it the last time I ran the mile without needing to stop I was roughly 10 years old, until today that is when I ran straight through for 13 minutes and completed the mile! There it was, a high unlike any I had felt before, the feeling of knowing what once was supposed to be impossible for me to partake in again had been accomplished and I couldn’t have been happier. If the chubby kid next to me was up for it I think a dance party would have been in order. Although I don’t think I need to mention it because it should be clear, but this is all possible due to the fact that someone gave the gift of life through organ donation if that hadn’t registered yet. So go sign up you chumps at becomeadonor.org.