The English language needs a word for that moment when the brilliance of the reflected light of the setting sun starts to fade out of the evening clouds.
I have noticed about myself that I get ridiculously excited when I figure out an exercise thing that works for me. Possibly this is because I spent my entire childhood being the awkward tall girl tripping over her own feet on the soccer field. Details.
This alternating running and walking thing is working brilliantly for me. I feel like I am working much harder than I ever did while jogging. It's a feeling that I never knew I could enjoy until I did martial arts: the feeling of pushing your body in bursts until you can hardly see, and then giving it a chance to catch up with itself. I didn't know that the burning in your lungs could be satisfying.
Now I find it kind of addicting. Endorphins and all. Much more satisfying than jogging, because I can do anything for a block. I can sprint full out uphill for a block. And I like it. I like pumping my arms and aiming for a goal. I like it so much that I deliberately did not go to a Spanish class tonight because I wanted to do my running. Like a person who has lost her mind. I have lost my mind.
Jogging, on the other hand, just requires gritting your teeth and plodding on. I get bored with it. I put it off. I don't do it.
The other thing is that I suspect that my running form is better when I run faster. I am actually running instead of shuffling. I don't have time to think about how I am running, so I don't overthink what my body is doing. I may take this all back in a couple of weeks when I have royally screwed up my knees with the sprinting on concrete, but so far my knees seem okay. Fingers crossed, knock on wood, superstitions etc.