RUN

My first love in high school left me with a few broken bones. Inability to walk. Bruises and blisters. Torn cartilage. Two surgeries. Still I couldn't help but keep coming back for more. When we were apart, I feel to pieces. They were my escape. My sweet release. The one who got me breathless. Another reason to avoid the chaos of the house I was growing up in. They made me feel alive with the wind in my hair like riding in a car with your head out the window. The turbulent and tumultuous relationship yielded some of my highest highs and some of my lowest lows. The relationship wasn't with a person but with a sport. An activity. A movement. A basic human instinct. Running.

Not only was it my first love, but it was the first coping mechanism I picked up. You would think exercise would be a healthy one to add to the old toolbox but not the way I did it originally. It took a multitude of injuries before I realized pushing past my limits just left me feeling broken, physically and mentally. Not to mention in quite a bit of pain. But at the time in high school, when I asked if I could rest a day and workout in the pool instead before a big race, the coach responded I might as well not race on Saturday. To be learned later, I had a stress fracture in my third metatarsal and had been walking, running, and racing on a broken foot for over a week. Not only was it broken, the bone had died, and the surgeon would drill holes into the bone to stimulate new bone growth. Thank goodness for anesthesia, am I right? Mind you another runner who had blisters on her feet was allowed to workout in the pool. But you learn certain rules only apply to certain people, and as my mom reminded me repeatedly, life isn't fair. Later that year while in a boot with a confirmed stress fracture, I asked for a break from sports to allow my body to heal. The doctor had even said a few weeks off my foot would be good. But that break was adamantly and effusively denied. Shit, this was when I found out why you need more than one coping tool in your toolbox.

I still have fond memories of running through the woods and mud fights with friends. I felt free running. It centered me. When my amygdala was hijacked and stress was through the roof, I could run it off until I felt better. It's no wonder I was able to run for three weeks on a broken foot. The endorphins were exploding in my mind like fireworks.

Endorphins are just one of the many benefits to working out. It wards off anxiety and depression. It aids in cognition helping you to think more clearly. It adds a spice of energy to your day. I know I typically sleep better if I have moved during the day. As with any coping mechanism, it's all about balance. Pushing yourself enough to grow and strengthen yourself but not so much that it is detrimental to your health (a lesson I've had to learn the hard way). Meet yourself where you are. For example, post surgery I couldn't just go back to lifting heavy and working out like I was prior to surgery. I had to tailor my movement to my current situation. Even going for walk, stretching, or marching in place is movement. It is better to start small than not start at all. Our bodies and our brains love movement. And for me, it's any movement except for golf. Just not for me.

Overall, it is about loving ourselves enough to push ourselves and loving ourselves enough to listen when we need to rest.