Running Towards My Problems
By Andrew Dendy
There have been many moments in my life where I believe I have chosen to run from things. A substance abuse problem in my first year and a half of college led me to neglect my studies, friendships, and family – in the back of my mind I knew it was happening the whole time, but I lied to myself to maintain an image of strength in front of those same people even though I was obviously sick. After turning all those things around, I’ve decided to run in a different direction so that I never reach that point again.
A little bit before the pandemic, I started running after every weight-lifting workout to mix in some cardio. It began as just a mile or less which completely kicked my ass at the time, and I didn’t progress past this for quite a while. Running is ironically the slowest training endeavor I have ever bought into, but in March of 2020, I was enabled by a world-changing event that would give me more time to pursue the sport than I knew what to do with. I’m sure none of you know what I’m talking about but there was this span where we all had to stay away from each other for an extended period of time – I imagine we all encountered a fierce battle with our mental health, in one way or the other.
As someone who struggles with depression, anxiety, and stress even on a regular basis I found quarantine to be particularly difficult. When gyms closed, I panicked because that was my sacred ground, my call to arms against the knights of these plaguing human attributes. So, I ran.
I run 4-6 times a week now over varying distances and speeds and ran my first (unofficial) half marathon last month. My intentions now aren’t to get into the weeds about the physicality of the activity just yet because it’s only 50% of the reason I am immersed in it. Running has become a holistic way of taking care of myself. It is my medicine, my therapy, and my meditation. I did not discover this immediately, I first had to become comfortable with the effect it had on my body and nature’s influence via its conditions – as I found my breath, the Earth breathed with me.
This feeling, this synchronous and harmonious nirvana I created between myself and my elements through such a primal thing activated my mind in a way that I had never experienced before. I have been chasing the feeling ever since the first time I felt it: it’s a tingling sensation through my entire body and a razor focus on my motor skills, what is around me, and where I am going (I mean this in all aspects of the phrase). This buzz does not hinder, my stride becomes a path for my thoughts; time to grow.
I’ve started my run. I am in my warmup phase which is the first period of reflection.
My job is high-stress and fast-paced, as I’m sure a lot of new college grad’s jobs are. I work virtually with a team based in India and wake up early to take advantage of our limited time to collaborate. From 6:30 AM until 10:30 AM I am constantly on calls trying to get my team offline as quickly as possible so they can rest. Crashing through an assault of information for four hours inspires distress, which is reflected in my greying chin hairs that I have developed rapidly over the past 6 months. As soon as my last call ends, I am out the front door, running.
I used to feel like I was running away from my work, but as I’ve grappled with the politics of being a part of a global corporation and the existentialism that comes along with that, running has aided me in rationalizing why I am doing what I’m doing and who/what I am doing it for.
That morning run reverts me back to my life’s normal breathing pattern. I am focused again. No matter what has happened at work I am realizing that I am doing what I am doing every day, and I am succeeding. I take the time to reflect on how I am there to help my brilliant comrades and friends over in India. I appreciate the exposure I have had to their cordiality, kindness, and passion for their work. My problems at work are not my own, I am a part of a group of people who are waking up every day and facing adversity together, we are chasing the human experience alongside one another – I am breathing.
I’m about one-third of the way through this run and I’m feeling all my patterns: breathing, stride, thoughts, the world around me.
My legs are warm now and I’m ready to accrue some distance – everything at work is good. Something I have developed over the past few years that I never used to struggle with in my teens and earlier twenties is an expansive social anxiety that makes me fret over my relationships with people, the way I interact with these people, and the role I may be playing in our social construct. I tackle this problem on a daily basis, it ebbs and flows through its levels of severity. I am able to express almost every emotion that is tied to these things through running – but I’ve noticed they all result in the same physical result. Sadness, anger, and happiness all make me push my boundaries and make myself feel better than I did the day before.
My progress as a runner is synonymous with my progress as an emotionally intelligent being. I constantly want to be better at handling my emotions and sharing those emotions with the people I love in a healthy way. Running is a mental consultant that vindicates my existence in the world, my presence to myself and to those around me.
It challenges every self-conscious thought, every feeling of inadequacy, and every insecurity that I allow to trespass into my mind on that day. Hitting my stride is how I process the things I am experiencing on an emotional level and discover my truest self, the self that will be a contributing part of whatever community I have chosen to be in at the given time. I have chosen to perpetually be on the road to growth – I am running.
I’m about seventy percent through my run, adrenaline is kicking in and I’m ready to see what this body is going to achieve today.
First, I need to have a conversation with it – some days he is thrilled with me, some days he is so angry at me that I have to drop to my knees in agony; but, regardless, he is always shedding tears – tears of joy, tears of sadness, tears of anger, tears of hope.
The salt of my sweat streams into my facial orifices causing burning, tasting, and tightening of skin. My fingers prune as they swipe against my hips intermittently; they’ve become hypersensitive to the occasional breeze mother nature has gifted me during this trying time. These are the constants in my relationship with my body, I can count on them on any given day I choose to go on a run.
All these displays are constructive even if it feels like your body screaming at you may be negative, that is the most glaring sign of growth. This is the part in my run where I am deciding whether to nurse fresh wounds or push the limits of older ones. We are so fortunate to be piloting a body that will tell us exactly what is wrong with it if we choose to listen. I’m communicating with my body over a new injury pretty much every week (I am typing this sentence with an ice pack on my knee).
When I first started exceeding distances of three, four, or five miles I was very alarmed by the painful effect it could have on my body and turned into a bit of a hypochondriac. As I moved forward in my relationship with running and with my body I came to understand that I was pushing him in a way that I never really had before, which meant a new level of care and attention to detail was going to be necessary. I no longer approach my pain with fear, but with open ears.
I try to find stretches or strengthening exercises to make sure my body never has to speak to me through a flare-up in my lower back again or make sure I’m hydrating properly before and after so I avoid a shin splint halfway through my next 5k. Being in tune with my physical shape in this way has taught me another type of growth that I am able to achieve through patience and meditative practice between mind and body. Between both, I grow, first separately, then as one – I am healing.
Running has kept me in touch with all these things and more. I am constantly able to grapple with new feelings through this hobby and for that reason, I can’t imagine life without it. Growing pains of all kinds have been mended through its meditation, it will be there for me always when other things are temporary. I am now grateful for my experiences, my mind, and my body which I can do so much with when I try.
Understanding that this is a deeply personal experience, I’m aware that other people have found wonderful ways of unifying the elements of their lives into some form of expression. That’s what is so beautiful to me really. Whenever I hear about someone’s passions and they explain the way it makes them feel it excites me, because passionate people can relate to one another on a more important level than the specificity of a hobby.
That feeling of being in touch with yourself, with others, and with the world is how we keep from slipping into the doldrums. Whatever you may do, try to do it as mindfully as you can, as passionately as you can, and continue to grow with it.
As for me: I have got to run like an antelope, out of control.
Andrew Dendy is a young professional balancing a work-from-home lifestyle with an active lifestyle. He enjoys running, weight training, playing the drums, the outdoors, and the company of friends.
