Running To or From?

I started running in college.

Not because I wanted to, but because I was told that if I wanted to graduate, I had to enroll in a PE class. My counselor eagerly offered bowling (no), golf (absolutely not), and running (meh). In all seriousness, I asked if I could pay her $50, run around the building for proof, and check the box. So that suggestion was a no-go and poof! I became a runner. Not a very good one, but a runner all the same.

By now, you've seen the ongoing research and connections between mental health and physical activity. My self-care plan has always included running, even though I hadn't formally documented it in a plan. It's just something I have always done to work out the mental and physical kinks.

At least it was my go-to until five years ago when the wheels fell off my bus. Our mom began a five-year battle with mental illness. I started physically falling apart and had a new bionic foot reconstruction at the end of 2021. That meant eight weeks of no-weight bearing anything. (I devised an incredible system to slide down the stairs on a cardboard box, much to the frustration of my physical therapy husband.)

Compound that physical frustration with the frequent out-of-state trips to help with my mom's care and her ultimate passing. No exercise. Add a new cardiac issue to the mix—no planning for exercise. No self-care. No thinking of what I need to do. No stopping.

I didn't see the signs in me until a new opportunity was presented that made me face burnout. Having been given the gift of a reboot, I had the moment to assess what I was doing - avoiding my own advice.

One of my hobbies is serving as a middle-school cross-country coach at my kid's former school. In coaching these kids, I communicate why I love and hate running. But more importantly, it's a part of what defines my self-care.

Your self-care plan needs a physical aspect. Pick something that brings you balance and that you enjoy or want to try. You may find a tremendous mental self-care approach, too.

1. Oprah said it - "Running is like life. You get out of it what you put into it." That's why I like it. I see results and stamina after mileage and training - whether one mile, 5 miles, or 20 miles. Just like life. Just like work. Just like relationships.
2. I don't have to prove myself to anyone but me. No matter the race or the finish time. I still ran those miles. The first 1/2 marathon I ever did, I finished last. Someone was teasing me about it, and another friend came to my rescue and said, "Her last-place finish beats your never-started time." Where can you use that mantra to filter out those situations causing burnout and stress? Are you trying to prove yourself to people or situations that don't define your worth?
3. I can outrun anything. Any bad situation? I mentally envision it chasing me. That angry person? Yep. Right behind me. The person who made me challenge my worth? Stays right behind me. Those whom I love? Running right next to me. Those for whom I celebrate their success? They are running right in front of me. It's a beautiful mental trick that also works with walking for those who hate running.
4. Every run is a chance to start over. It's my chance to grant me mercy and to remind me of the runner's adage, "You never run the same mile or same race twice." Meaning? Repetition creates stamina and resilience, but no one run is the same, so I'm conditioning myself to manage change. Just like building resilience in life.
5. Are you running to something or away from something? One of my favorite directors in my career asked me this. This question has stayed with me during challenging and celebratory times. Why am I feeling, doing, wondering something? Am I running toward something better or away from something I fear?

This picture was from last week's race. My aim was never to be the best but to finish every race. Sure. I've PR'd. I've won the age group awards. I have the medals. But this race was for me to prove I could still do it. Thanks to my Mom-Squad and amazing neighbor friend McKenna, I enjoyed 13.1 delicious miles. Half-marathon #28. Slow, painful, and just one minute over what I had hoped for a finish time.

But I did it. Despite feeling burned out and forgetting to take my advice, I proved I was still in the race. It was the perfect reboot.

What resilience practices will you explore this week? Share your thoughts and join the conversation. Don't forget. You're still in the race.