on the run

Running is my therapy. A sweet release, where I can visualize the entanglements of work and life being broken as my legs pound out mile after mile. I can feel my daily baggage flying off me and falling back in the distance. Sometimes, I turn my head to look back. I don't run with an ipod...I prefer silence. Not total silence. I like to listen to my breathing, it makes me feel alive. I'm in tune with my vitality when I push myself physically, especially after sitting on my ass for 8 hours at work. My breathing, my heartbeat and my legs are all in rhythm and everything feels right.
If I miss a few days, I get cranky - ask my wife. Is it strange that my psyche has become so dependent on this activity?