I'm sure every washed up track/cross country athlete felt the same exact way when they first came to college. When a runner stops running, there are stages of emotions that we feel.

1. At first, we feel a new found sense of freedom and (I'm ashamed to say this) but joy.

It's kind of nice to stop running for a while. It's nice to not have shin splints and to not have to take ice baths after every run. It's nice to have all that extra time not spent running to do something that you always wish you could've done. It's nice to not have to worry about all of the extra laundry that is generated from running 42 miles a week. We also don't miss the intervals and the fartleks and the hill runs. But this joy only lasts for about two weeks.

2. After the two-week mark, we start to get antsy.

We notice that something is most definitely wrong. Our blood starts to flow slower (the amount of capillaries that we built in our legs on all those 10-mile runs literally start to disappear but that's beside the point). Our days seem to feel longer because we have too much extra time. We start to get jealous of the people that are running on the road when we're driving. And we kind of cry a little bit whenever we scroll past a nice scenic picture of people when they're done with a nice long run on a trail.

3. And then we get scared.

We assume that our capacity has gone down much more than it probably has and now comes the questions of self-doubt. What if my easy pace feels like race pace? What if someone I knew were to see my panting and puffing on a downhill? What if I get out of breath before the first mile mark?

4. Finally, we suck it up and finally strap on our running sneakers.

We put our favorite track shirt on (to get into the mood) and slip on our nike pros. We dig through our drawers to find our really nice running socks (no one wants blisters) and we tie up our favorite pair of Asics. Just like old times. We make sure we have a bomb playlist because does anyone ever go on runs without music? We log into our NikeRun app and we head out the door. However, things don't exactly turn out the way you pictured them to in your head.

How the run actually goes:

Things start out unexpectedly well. You're basically cruising down the road. You think that you look so good and so fast, and you totally just impressed that group of male runners that passed by you. You finish your first mile basically a minute faster than your normal easy pace!

But then stings start looking rough. You're beginning to get out of breath. Your shoes are suddenly a lot heavier than you remembered and oh, GOD is that really the sound of you breathing right now? *Turns the music up so you can't hear yourself dying* Why is the pause between these two songs literally 30 seconds long? And oh no, you're reaching a busy intersection and approaching a line of cars waiting for the light to turn green. Everyone's eyes are on you, but you just can't physically keep running so you turn into a quiet side street and run just long enough so that the drivers think that you're running to your house. You cut the run short and you're disappointed to hear Sanya Richards-Ross' voice telling you did a "great job" just after 2.3 miles.

But hey, you went for a run right?