As a dad, a jogger, and someone who’s lived through the highs and lows of running, I’ve discovered a profound truth: running is much more than a physical challenge. It’s a mental marathon, a path that’s taught me resilience, joy, and the importance of just taking that first step—whether it’s at the start line of the NYC marathon with tears in my eyes or stepping out the door on a regular Tuesday. You too can use running for mental health!
The Uphill Battle: Navigating the Path Back to Running
My running journey hasn’t been without its hurdles. Back in college, a coach’s sprinter-centric workouts led to a knee injury so severe that walking up the campus hills became a feat. It was the first time I stopped running, a decision that felt like giving up. That experience taught me an invaluable lesson about listening to my body and the power of resilience.
Since that pivotal injury in college, my relationship with running has been hot and cold. Years would pass without me running, followed by periods of intense dedication during the spring and summer, only to fall off again in the colder months. This cycle of passion and distance has been a constant battle, one where I’ve found myself resenting the very thing that caused this rift in my running journey.
Walking out the door for a run, I’m often haunted by “what ifs.” What if I had chosen a different school? What if I had continued to run after transferring? What if I had sought out a different coach or joined a running club? These questions linger, not as regrets, but as echoes of resentment for what could have been. That injury didn’t just take me off the track for a season; it altered the course of my running life, casting a long shadow over my passion for the sport.
Despite this, each step I take today is a testament to overcoming that bitterness. Every run is an act of defiance against the doubts and what-ifs. It’s a reminder that, while we can’t change the past, we have the power to shape our present and future. My running journey has been marked by highs and lows, but it’s also been a lesson in resilience, in finding the strength to embrace the road ahead, regardless of the turns it takes.
So, as I lace up and step out the door, I remind myself that this run is not just about distance or speed. It’s about reclaiming the joy of running, about moving beyond the shadows of past injuries and what-ifs. It’s a challenge to myself to stay present, to appreciate the journey for what it is now, not for what it could have been. And with each run, I find pieces of that joy and passion, piecing them back together, run by run, step by step. When I find myself in that sweet zone, I find it hard to run back home as that feeling of euphoria takes over.
A Family Legacy: Running the NYC Marathon
My connection to the NYC Marathon runs deep, tracing back to my childhood when I watched my father tackle those famous streets over multiple years. My mom, my twin brothers, and I would chase him around the course, braving the unpredictable autumn weather to catch a glimpse of him running in the most iconic city in the world. To me, it seemed like the city transformed on marathon day, opening its arms to thousands of runners, my dad among them. I grew up marveling at how New York City, with its bustling streets and towering skyscrapers, could pause and unite in celebration of human endurance and spirit, the NYC Marathon.
Stepping up to the same start line years later was surreal. Memories of cheering for my dad mingled with my own anticipation and excitement. It was a full circle moment, a testament to the legacy of running passed down through my family. The energy of the city and its people on marathon day is unparalleled, a beacon of inspiration calling me back. I eagerly await the next chance to be a part of this incredible event, to run those storied streets and add another chapter to my family’s marathon legacy.
Running, for me, has always been more than just a physical endeavor. It’s a journey intertwined with memories, challenges, and triumphs. From the lessons learned on the uphill climb back from injury to the emotional resonance of following in my father’s marathon footsteps, running shapes my life in profound ways. It’s a constant reminder of resilience, of the power of family and legacy, and of the joy found in the simple act of moving forward, one step at a time.
Family: My Cheer Squad and Pillar of Support
For me, running transcends personal achievement—it’s a family affair. The support and presence of my family not only bolster my spirits but also drive me to surpass my own expectations. Every goal I set and every finish line I cross is filled with a deeper purpose, fueled by the desire to make them proud and to exemplify dedication and perseverance.
My family’s role in my running endeavors is multifaceted. They are my celebration committee, my motivators during tough times, and the embodiment of why I strive for excellence. I run for myself, yes, but I also run for them—to show them what dedication looks like and how it can shape our lives. My oldest, who prefers other sports over running, (hopefully) sees my training as the hard work required to excel in any athletic pursuit. I hope to instill in him the understanding that dedication to training, even when it’s the last thing we want to do, can propel us to the top of our game, whether on ice, field, or court.
Then there’s my middle son, whose enthusiasm for running matches my own. His recent mile-long run alongside me on the trails, without stopping and with an impressive pace for a five-year-old, filled me with pride and hope for the future of his athletic journey. It’s moments like these that underscore the joy and bond running can foster within a family.
My youngest son’s eagerness to explore everything, from fun runs to dreams of racing like Sonic or playing sports like his older brothers, reflects the boundless energy and potential of youth. His adventures on the track and field are just beginning, and I can’t wait to see where they lead.
Perhaps the most significant development on our family’s running horizon is the upcoming race my wife and I will run together—not just sharing the event, but running side by side. While we’ve both participated in numerous races, the idea of directly sharing the experience, stride for stride, marks a new chapter in our journey. It’s a testament to our individual and collective growth, and a chance to connect on a level we’ve rarely experienced in the context of running.
Their unwavering support during training and races, coupled with my desire to be the best version of myself for them, keeps me grounded and focused. It helps me to step out of my own head and into the collective heartbeat of my family. Running, in this light, becomes more than just a solitary pursuit; it’s a shared adventure, a way to teach, learn, and love, all while chasing the horizon together.
BTW, the true hero is always never in the pictures. Kelly, Momjogger, is hidden behind these pictures making sure that both her and these 3 little guys can be where I need them, when I need them. The ultimate support in a support crew! Love you!
Navigating the Dark: Deeper into the Pain Cave
The journey of running, much like life itself, carries its share of shadows and struggles. My path has been marked by moments of doubt, pain, and introspection, where the mental challenges loomed as large as the physical. Beyond the physical discomfort of a knee flaring up or the ego check of being overtaken by another runner, it’s the mental battles that often dictate the true challenge of running.
The darkness isn’t just about the bad days or the injuries—it’s also about the mental spirals that can ensue from them. There are days when the slightest hint of pain in my knee triggers a cascade of negative thoughts, a vivid reminder of past setbacks and what-ifs that cloud my mind. It’s in these moments that running transforms from a physical endeavor to a mental battleground, where the true opponent is my own thoughts.
This mental struggle manifested most intensely during my ultra-marathon, a grueling 50+ mile journey that tested the limits of my endurance. The “pain cave” was not just a physical state but a profound mental ordeal. Every step felt like like a challenge in and of itself, and the darkness of doubt and despair threatened to overwhelm me. It was a battle not against the trail or the distance, but against the shadows within.
Yet, it was in this darkest hour that the light of support shone brightest. Seeing my family at the aid station, witnessing their unwavering belief in me, acted as a beacon through the fog of my struggles. Their cheers and smiles broke through the mental barriers, reminding me of the strength and support that lay beyond my own limitations. It was a poignant reminder that, even in the deepest darkness, we are not alone.
The experience taught me invaluable lessons about navigating the dark. It underscored the importance of setting realistic goals and the power of a support system. Knowing when to push and when to heed the signals of my body and mind has become a delicate dance—a balance between ambition and self-care.
Moreover, it revealed the strength that can be found in vulnerability. Admitting to myself that I was struggling, recognizing the need for support, and accepting it, has transformed how I approach both running and life. It’s taught me that the pain cave isn’t a place to fear, but a space where growth happens, where resilience is forged, and where the light at the end of the tunnel becomes just a bit brighter. [Editor Will here: I found myself getting emotional re-reading and editing this section and I’m not sure I can explain why exactly. The darkness never seemed to have left, but the light after that dark also never left. And just thinking about it as I read my own words brings me back to that spot on the course but even more to the emergence to seeing my family and the light it gave me. Do not underestimate your mental capacity. DO NOT under estimate the need for support.]
As I continue to lace up and hit the trails, I carry these lessons with me. They serve as a guide through the highs and lows, a reminder of the power of perseverance, and the importance of embracing the journey, darkness and all. For it’s through navigating the dark that we truly discover our strength and the depth of the bonds that sustain us.
The Finish Line: A Journey of Mental Wellness
Running has taught me more about myself than I could have imagined. It’s shown me that mental wellness, much like a marathon, is not a sprint. It’s about the steps we take, the support we gather, and the resilience we build along the way. To my fellow dads, remember that the hardest part is often just stepping up to the line. Whether it’s the literal start line of a race or the metaphorical line we cross when facing our daily challenges and to-do lists, the journey towards mental wellness begins with the courage to start, the courage to move forward, the courage to ask for help.
So, lace up, take that first step, and let the journey unfold. Here’s to running towards better mental health, with all the ups, downs, and cherished moments in between.
Please share your own stories in the comments below. If not the comments, I urge you to speak with your support team, whether they be your family, friends, or professional support. Let’s inspire and remind ourselves of the strength we find in running and in our community. Whether you’re a seasoned marathoner or someone contemplating your first run, know that every step forward is a step toward better physical, mental, and emotional health.
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