Why I Run (And Why It Keeps Me, And Many Others, Sane)
Running has never just been about fitness for me. From my first half marathon race aged 16 years old to raise money in memory of a favourite teacher who sadly died of cancer, to my most recent ultramarathon completed during a particularly difficult time in my life, it has always been more than a physical act. Often, it’s the only time I actually feel truly present in both my body and my mind. As a psychologist, who turns to this sport regularly, I do really believe it is more than a hobby or a habit – it is a kind of therapy. It is a form of self-regulation, a way to process emotions (think about the repeated left-right motion that is echoed in EMDR trauma therapy!), and a brilliant way to bring humanity together.
Psychologically, running can have profound effects on the brain. It reduces cortisol (our stress hormone), releases endorphins for that familiar post-runner’s high and can improve sleep and cognitive functioning. But beyond the biology, running creates a rhythm, a meditation, that can quiet the chaos of an overstimulated mind. It allows people to be present, be outside and acknowledge thoughts as they come and go – a concept that is routinely taught within Acceptance and Commitment therapy (ACT) – noticing the thoughts, emotions and sensations, without getting hooked by them. Not only does running allow us to let go of the inner noise, but it also gives us a chance to let go of the screen time, putting the phone away and moving through something rather than sitting in it.
Running also brings a sense of achievement and a sense of agency – especially valuable for those experiencing low mood or anxiety. For some, this may be hitting a new PB or a distance you never knew you could do, but it may also appear in just showing up and getting a run done. A post-work jog when all you wanted to do was curl up in your pyjamas, or using a run to catch up with a friend when life has felt busy. Setting goals that you can achieve can fuel motivation and strengthen self-belief and is certainly something we would teach and support within therapy.
But we also must be mindful that the benefits of running, aren’t just measured in stats, fitness tracking or social media kudos. The grittiness of pushing through that last mile, the repetition of your feet hitting the floor, the moment your breath finally finds it’s rhythm or the quiet decision to carry on instead of listening to the doubt of “I can’t do this today”. These are the moments that capture what running is really about.
Ultimately, in addition to what we know, the benefits of running are something we also feel. We feel it in our bodies and in our bones. The quiet power of being able to move your body in the primal, familial rhythm. It doesn’t have to be euphoric either, in fact, often the monotony of one foot in front of the other is a clearing that can help the body to process things that perhaps your mind can’t put into words.
I will always be so deeply aware of the privilege of having a body that can run, and that can move because I choose to rather than escaping danger or hardship. This action, so available to me, is not something that everyone has, and that awareness brings a large scoop of gratitude with every step.
Of course, running isn’t a magic fix. For some it can feel like another pressure, another thing to do, or to fail at. Movement doesn’t have to be measured or fast, and it doesn’t even have to be a run. If you are reading this and feeling a bit stuck, heavy or like you’ve tried the ”finding the solution route”, maybe try something simple; movement. Even just a stretch or the rhythm of your own two feet.
A reminder that around your pain or discomfort, there is also a body. A body that you can move and control. A body that reminds you that you are still here, still trying and still worthy of feeling better.
And if that movement happens to be a run… then enjoy it … every step of the way!
Dr Hannah Meechan
