Running can do a lot of things
Running is often talked of as a salve for mental health. And it is. But there are limits. Running is not counselling. Running is not treatment.
And sometimes the answer is deeper than just going out for a run.
For me, running is an important part of how I keep things in perspective, and as a way of keeping me fit and healthy, I reckon it can’t be beaten.
And I know from personal experience how much it can help deal with life’s curveballs.
When my dad died unexpectedly from heart problems 14 years ago and I was struggling to come to terms with it, it was good to get out and run, just to be somewhere I could scream and cry and talk to myself (and him – sometimes, I swear I could hear his footsteps on the pathway behind me).
I’d come back with snot and tears streaked down my face, looking worse but feeling better.
Another time, when I went through a redundancy, I found running was the only time I could actually let go of the pretence that everything was fine.
The first time I realised this,
it came on suddenly, in the middle of a race. I was slugging up a hill, and it just never seemed to end. It was like I was being weighed down and there was no way I could get to the top.
And then I understood: I actually was weighed down, carrying all the emotional baggage and anger about what was happening.
Until then, I’d just been trying to put on a brave face, pretending like everything was ok.
It was good to get out and run, just to be somewhere I could scream and cry and talk to myself (and him).
Eugene Bingham on how he dealt with the sudden death of his dad.