Running As Coping
We all have a reason to run. Some run for weight loss, heart health, racing, challenging ourselves, coping with something difficult, or many other reasons. Sometimes we have multiple reasons combined into one run. This week, most of my miles were for coping, and as a therapist, I figured I’d share how I use running to cope.
The Science (Kind of)
You may not have realized it, but when you run, you are running with family. It’s the family of chemicals released in your brain that are called endorphins. Endorphins are neurotransmitters that carry messages from our brain through our nervous system. When you run you have the family in your head that we all wanted to grow up with. The family that says “you kick butt. Look at you go. That’s right, you ran good. You ran far. You ran like a champ.”
When we run, these endorphins send messages that help us to feel good about ourselves. We end up having a feeling of euphoria that can last for hours or days.
Turning Science Into Purpose
This release of endorphins sets up the perfect stage for working through difficult situations and emotions. In order to take advantage of this, I recommend using your easy runs, the runs where you aren’t playing with speed and tempo. If the purpose of your run is to push your heart rate high, it becomes difficult to think and process with a clear head. That hill you are running up becomes the center of your thoughts and the only voice you can hear is the thump thump thump of your heart. Let those runs be what they are supposed to be.
On the easy runs where your heart rate is lower, your mind can more easily wrap around complex thoughts and emotions. But just because the stage is perfect doesn’t mean we will act with intention. The need is to allow space and time to cope. It is possible to run without intention. It’s actually very easy to run without intention. Simply put those headphones in, turn on that audiobook, and check out as you go. There is nothing wrong with those kinds of runs, however, we are talking about using this run to cope.
Here are some ideas for how to turn an easy run into a coping run:
1.) Plan Ahead – If you know you have things to work through on your run, plan your run out. Maybe decide on certain miles or sections of your course where you will be focusing on coping and others where you are focused on stride pattern, breath, or pace work.
2.) Take A Pause – When you are ready to work through whatever is going on for you, pause whatever you are listening to and whatever is distracting you.
3.) Clue Into Your Mind – What thoughts are sitting there behind the surface? Are they beliefs about yourself or about the situation? Are they negative or positive thoughts? Just notice them.
4.) Clue Into Your Emotions – What are you feeling? Emotions are not thoughts. A thought is “I feel like giving up”. Emotions are one word. “I feel Sad”. Let yourself feel it. Let it come out. It’s okay to cry on a run. If anyone sees you, just tell them you set a new PR and are excited about it.
5.) Clue Into Your Body – Where are you feeling those emotions in your body? Our emotions get stored somewhere. Find that place. Look past the areas you are feeling your run. Go deeper into where those emotions are sitting. Notice it. Be aware of it.
6.) Consider a Walk Break – Sometimes it’s too much or too hard to do this while running. You might not be able to let go of your pace or milage. Walking won’t ruin your run. Let go of the lie that “if I walk my run doesn’t count.” Be in this moment. Be aware.
7.) Challenge Negative Thinking – If you recognized negative thoughts, you may want to challenge these thoughts. You also may not be ready for that. If not, it’s okay. Just recognizing them creates change. But if you are ready, ask yourself “what would I rather think/believe?” For example:
- Negative Belief: “I’m not good enough…”
- Positive Change: “I’m loved even if I …”
How I Coped Through Running This Week
Riley’s first moments with us, getting her tummy rubbed.
Last summer, our family adopted our little three month old puppy Riley. After moving to a new state just before a global pandemic hit, our family was hurting, feeling alone and isolated, and each of us was struggling with anxiety in different ways.
We had intended for Riley to help us all feel a little less alone and boy did she! Riley adopted us as much as we adopted her. She loved each of us and did not have any favorites.
Over the last couple of weeks, we began to see a decline in Riley’s health. She slowed her eating down and started losing weight while laying around most of the day. Suddenly this week she took a sharp turn and would not eat at all. She was in trouble.
Keller & Riley being mischievous
My Monday run had speed play involved. So I focused in on the purpose of the run and tried to let go of what I was feeling. I completed a 5 mile run along with 10 x’s 60 sec pickups while dealing with icy sidewalks. Tuesday was a cross training hike on my treadmill. Wednesday, I ran 800 ft elevation gain and three miles up and down Green Mountain Trail.
On Thursday we took Riley in to see her vet and received the worst news we could imagine. She was dying. Her kidneys stopped functioning due to a genetic deformity. We were told she had maybe two weeks to live and would suffer more and more the longer time went. She could not recover from this. We were heart broken. The hardest part was telling my 9 year old son that his little Riley girl was not going to make it. I’d never seen him cry harder and we all held each other through it. Riley was not just a dog to us. She was a part of our family and helped us through one of the hardest times our family has faced. I did not run today.
Friday’s run was 4 miles that I completed on my treadmill. It was supposed to be an easy pace run but I was hurting and not ready to face it. So I pushed my pace and heart rate up throughout the run. I ran angry.
Saturday ended up being the hardest run of my life. Not because of the run itself but because Riley was scheduled to be put down when I got back from the run. My little running partner and friend was going to die when I finished my run.
I had 8 miles to complete and my plan was in place. I would run my first 4 miles out focused on finding joy in my running. I listened to a book while taking in the beauty of my surroundings. Not hard to do when you live in Colorado.
Riley peeking in from her box outside
However, my 4 miles back would need to be different. Every step back towards home would be one step closer to saying goodbye. I turned off my book and turned on music. For miles 5 & 6 I would focus on my favorite memories with her. I recalled when I first held her as a pup, her first bath, playing ‘hide & seek’, and her standing on a box outside so she could see her family while she played in the sun.
The last two miles of the run is where I shifted into full coping. I took a long walk break at mile 7 so I could be more mindful of what I was experiencing. My thoughts were not of concern. But my heart felt heavy with sadness, hurt, and anger. I was angry because she was so young. I felt that in my back and shoulders. Deeper than that was the sadness I was carrying in my stomach and heart. I realized my vision of going on training runs with her this year were not going to happen. She would not be there for our family anymore and we could not love on her. Then I took a deep breath and started running again.
When I turned down my street and could see my house, a flood of emotions hit. I could not stop crying. The thought that kept entering my mind was “Don’t go home. Don’t walk in that door. Maybe she will stay alive if you just keep running.” It hurt so bad, and every step felt like an act of betrayal. I told myself “it’s okay. You are not betraying her, you are taking care of her by keeping her from suffering.”
Saying Goodbye to sweet Riley
I took an extra lap around my street before finally gathering myself enough to walk in the house. As soon as I stepped in I broke down. My legs gave out and I fell with my back against the wall to the floor crying loudly. My wife came and sat beside me as we cried together. Then Riley gathered the last of her strength, got out of her bed where she had been all morning, and came to comfort me. It was as if she was telling me it was okay. We held her and cried as a family. Minutes later I carried her out to the car because she was too weak to walk, and drove her to the vet. I held her as she breathed her last breaths, thankful for the time I had on my run to prepare myself for saying goodbye.