Have you ever been out on a run and felt a burst of clarity so acute, it’s as if all the mysteries of the universe began unfolding in slow motion right before your eyes?
In this elevated state, I have constructed entire stories from start to finish and come up with dozens of brilliant ideas that I’m sure I’ll remember in an hour or so when I stop running.
Of course, by the time the run is over, I’ve not only lost the plot of the piece I had arranged, all those wonderful thoughts have simply left my mind just as easily as they arrived. That inability to recapture those moments of insight in perfect detail used to haunt me. How could I be so perceptive one minute and so obtuse an hour later?
That’s when I came up with an imperfect, yet practical, solution. Instead of trying to remember everything from my run, I’d focus on retaining some key kernel of truth. Perhaps it was a headline or a lead. Maybe it was just a couple of keywords. Whatever it was, I’d simply repeat the idea back to myself every time my watch beeped at the end of a mile.
When the run was over, before I rehydrated or replenished my calories, I’d grab the notebook I have stashed in my car and write down whatever it is I’m trying to remember. As for the rest of those lovely deep thoughts, I had to learn to let them go. If they’re good enough, they’ll come back around another day.
For a long time before arriving at that makeshift solution, I puzzled over these moments. Was I somehow blessed with an uncanny ability to synthesize complex thoughts in the span of a few hundred steps? Well, no. I’m not that special. The experience is not only common, it’s also not as mystical as it seems.
Even light exercise does more to boost cognitive function than relaxing for the same amount of time. The reason appears to be that movement lifts mood and leaves people feeling more energized than doing nothing. According to psychologists from the University of Reims Champagne-Ardenne in France, “A brief bout of moderate intensity exercise can improve the efficiency of certain cognitive processes through increases in feelings of energy.”
The study made a differentiation between light exercisers and people who did nothing but relax, showing that the exercisers scored higher on cognitive tests. For purposes of the study, that “brief bout of moderate intensity exercise” was 15 minutes, or about the time when all those free-floating fragments of information in my brain coalesce into crystal-clear thoughts and ideas.
That’s on a really good day. Some runs are just not that profound. When they’re over, the most intellectual brainpower I can muster is to remind myself where I put the keys and think, “Food good, eat now.”
That doesn’t mean they lack value. Even a mediocre run gives me a feeling of satisfaction and puts me in a solid frame of mind for the rest of the day. That’s why I run first thing in the morning. It establishes a structure for everything that follows. Like that memory hack, running is a means to an end, not the other way around.
I rely on my morning run for a variety of reasons, but the most important is the positive effect it has on my state of mind. I believe that running not only provides a window into my creative process, it also helps keep my anxiety in check. Seems pretty clear to me, those two things must be related.
This newsletter is as much about mental health as it is physical gain. That won’t always be obvious, or even the main point of every piece, but it’s always there in the background like the depressive moods that linger in my subconscious.
I have written openly about my issues with depression before. Given the state of everything in the world, it would be strange if I wasn’t feeling a heightened sense of anxiety and stress. Most of the time, fortunately, my anxiety is more like a low-level hum than a searing throb.
Running does as much to balance out those negative emotions as anything else I do, but it’s not the only thing. I’m generally able to maintain my mental health with a patchwork collection of defenses, starting with exercise, and including many of the things we’ve been talking about in Running, Probably: meditation, better sleep and nutritional habits, etc.
There’s one clear element missing from that lineup and that’s therapy. I want to be very clear when I say that none of these items in my toolkit are a replacement for therapy. I have been to therapy and running is obviously not therapy. It’s way more sedentary for one thing. It doesn’t talk back for another. There’s no copay.
In the excellent book, “Running is my Therapy,” the author Scott Douglas lays out the case that exercise, specifically running, is an effective first line of defense for mental health issues. Running, Douglas writes, is particularly effective in conjunction with other treatment options like cognitive behavioral therapy and medication.
That’s an important distinction and it’s worth reiterating because running is not a magical cure all for my anxiety and depression. As far as I know, no such treatment exists. To be sure, I have put my mental health in jeopardy on occasion when I have relied too much on running to keep me out of dark places. It’s a tool, albeit an extremely effective one.
Douglas’ book is an essential read for anyone curious about the numerous effects running has on our mental state. It does for the brain what Alex Huthcinson’s “Endure” did for the body. It helped me understand and further conceptualize many of the ideas I had about running and mental health. It also helped me realize that I’m not alone.
My biggest takeaway is that while running is not necessarily a replacement for other forms of mental health support, it’s an entirely valid starting point. It doesn’t hurt that unlike therapy, there’s no appointment to make and times are flexible. Still, I often need to remind myself that as much as I rely on running, it’s not the only path available.
I’m trying to keep all this in mind because I’m a few days into a week without running. I’m doing this to rest my body and reset my mind. There’s a persistent pain in my hip that isn’t going away on its own and it’s causing some other issues along the kinetic chain. If I know my body, and I think I do, the hip pain is an early-warning sign that I’m pushing too hard and need to back off.
Mentally, I’ve been surprised at how much I’m enjoying not thinking about running. I haven’t thought about laying out clothes or planning routes. The post-run backpack that’s always ready to go is blissfully unpacked. All that tells me that taking a break is the right decision.
This is my hibernation week, but I’m not letting things go entirely. Instead, I’m doubling down on all those other elements in my toolkit. I’m eating cleaner, sleeping longer, and devoting more time to strength training.
As for those moments of clarity, I’m counting on some brisk morning walks to fill the void. After all, it only takes a few minutes to get that positive energy flowing.
Hi Paul. Just want to write to say thank you for putting together this blog. I have been reading but this is my first time commenting. I really appreciate the honesty with which you construct these posts. I too found running in a search for tools to help with mental health and depression. I got out of the rhythm in the past few years but this fall I started up again and am currently progressing well running through my first Canadian winter. The goal is a half-marathon in the summer. These posts are really motivational for me and help me take time out of my day for self-reflection on what it is that I am aiming to get out of running. - Caleb
I think that one of the things that keeps me coming back to your newsletter is just how self-aware you are. You’re honest with yourself, listen to signs from your body, recognize difficulty and where you struggle...and openly talk about it. It may be the case that running is part of your toolkit, but so is this blog. Stay you, Paul. You’re doing great.