I’ve been a runner for a long time, but it’s taken me years to claim that identity.
It’s taken me even longer to do it in a healthy way.
For one thing, I started running when I was a teenager, but running wasn’t something I did for school. I didn’t run track or do cross country. In fact, I specifically started running because it was something that didn’t require me to be part of a team. Running was something I could do for physical fitness entirely by myself.
As a result, I never really saw it as a serious thing. I didn’t think I was particularly fast, and since it was the ’90s, I didn’t have an easy way to track my pace or miles. However, running was a physical activity that allowed me to control how hard I pushed myself, and since I was only running for me, I didn’t have to worry about what other people thought.
So of course, I pushed myself really hard. Part of this was just my built-in, type-A personality. But part of it was that I approached running as a way to try and control my weight.
When Running Became About Being Smaller
By the time I started running in high school, I had a raging eating disorder. I desperately wanted to be thinner and smaller, so I used the two things I had some control over to try and achieve those goals—starving myself and exercising as hard as I could.
I know now that exercise isn’t the most effective way to lose weight, but given that I was also significantly limiting my calorie intake, it would have been hard for me to prove otherwise.
In spite of my antagonistic approach to running, I kept at it after high school when I moved to New York City for college. I’d run loops around the reservoir, carrying my Discman and playing mix CDs while I ran in the hot midday sun.
Running stuck with me when I moved back to DC to train to become a yoga teacher. Eventually, I was able to start tracking my pace and mileage, which allowed me to push harder and race against myself.
I started running 5K Turkey Trots, then 10Ks, and eventually the Cherry Blossom 10-Miler. I didn’t know much about fueling for those longer races because fueling my runs was never my goal. Faster, harder, smaller was my goal.
Honestly, it’s amazing that I never fainted during or after a race, given how I treated running and my body at the time. I was very lucky.
I also ran through the first trimester of all three of my pregnancies and restarted running within two months postpartum after each.
Realizing My Relationship With Running Needed to Change
It wasn’t until my third postpartum running experience that things started to change for me. And it wasn’t immediate. It was a slow journey of realizing that how I was running was hurting my body, not helping it.
Actually, a few things shifted when I was postpartum with my third and last child. First, I realized how little I wanted to “bounce back.” I was tired of playing diet culture games with my body. I wanted to be strong, not small. I wanted to treat my body with care and respect, not fear or contempt.
And even still, it took years to really disentangle myself from the many tentacles of unhealthy beliefs and habits that had been lodged within me.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, my relationship with running was one of the hardest to resolve.
I think part of the reason is that my relationship with running was never actually a healthy or positive one. Running started as a way to push myself, but in a punishing sort of way, and it stayed that way, even as I made progress in other areas of my mental health.
Even as I was eating more and lifting weights and trying to rewire old patterns and the beliefs that created them, I still hung onto some old, unhelpful running behaviors.
Of course, it impacted how running felt in my body. I’d often feel fully depleted on run days, sometimes getting nasty migraines that sidelined me for the rest of the day. I sustained injuries that were clearly running-related, even as I was getting physically stronger thanks to my increased strength training.
And yet, I wasn’t entirely willing to give up running because, it turns out, I actually enjoy running.
So instead, I decided I needed to change how I approached it.
How I Built a Healthier Relationship With Running
There are a few things I’ve done over the past few years that have allowed me to rebuild a healthier relationship with running.
To be clear, these are things that have worked for me personally. It’s not a prescription so much as a way to reconsider what is important to each person who chooses to run.
Some might seem obvious or intuitive, but they were not for me. I had to teach myself how to turn down the volume of my type-A tendencies and the harmful beliefs diet culture taught me in order to have a relationship with running that felt good and sustainable.
I Stopped Tracking Every Run
The first and most impactful thing I did to change my relationship with running was to stop tracking my runs, except when I am training for a race.
That means for most of the year, I run without an app tracking my pace or mileage. It felt weird at first, not knowing when I’d hit a mile or how fast I was going or even how far I’d gone, but it was essential to quieting the type-A noise that typically motivates me.
Running without tracking my pace has significantly taken the pressure off aiming for achievement every time I’m out for a run.
When I am training for something and tracking my pace, I often have to remind myself that the goal is long-term sustainability and health, not speed.
Choosing to run without tracking my pace is easily the best choice I’ve ever made in regard to running.
I Set Boundaries Around When I Run
I also set really clear boundaries around when I am willing to run.
Since I run exclusively outdoors, most of these boundaries are temperature- and weather-related.
I will not run when it is below 28 degrees. That might seem arbitrary, but I’ve figured out that any colder than 28 and my fingers never actually unfreeze, even when I am wearing good gloves. Plus, it just doesn’t feel good in my body to run when it is significantly below freezing.
I won’t run in high heat either because my body really hates that. More often than not, running in high heat—anything over 80 degrees—makes me physically ill, even if I hydrate well. This means that late-morning or middle-of-the-day runs are out for much of the year, as it gets hot pretty quickly from late spring through late fall.
I don’t mind running in the rain or snow, but if it’s raining hard, I won’t run.
The only non-weather-related boundary I have is that I won’t run when I am bleeding heavily.
I’ve discovered that I typically cannot run on the heaviest bleeding day of my cycle. It’s not an issue of pelvic or low back pain. I tend to get headaches if I run on the first or second day of my cycle. I’m not sure why, and I don’t have the same issue with lifting weights on heavy-bleed days. In fact, lifting heavy often makes my body feel better during my cycle. Something about running when I am bleeding a lot just doesn’t feel good.
I have made an exception for races, but it hasn’t gone well. I ran my first half marathon on the second day of my period. I felt fine during the race but later felt like garbage. I had a headache that lasted two days. If I had to run another race during the bleeding part of my cycle, I probably still would, but I’d seek out better recovery strategies to try to mitigate the headaches.
I realize these boundaries are very limiting, but they are what allow me to run in a way that feels better and safer in my body.
I Let Myself Skip a Run—or Stop Midway
I’ve learned how to give myself a pass on running when I’m not feeling it.
I no longer force myself to run just because it’s a run day. I used to drag myself out for a run no matter what, but I no longer do that. Instead, I’ll opt for a different movement practice that feels more in line with what my body wants or needs.
I’ve also learned that it’s okay to stop and take a break, something younger and unhealthier me never did. This has been a particularly tough thing for me to do, and I don’t do it as often as I maybe could. But the fact that I even occasionally stop when my body needs a minute to recover before finishing my run is a big deal.
I Finally Learned to Fuel My Runs
I am learning how to fuel my body for running.
This has been a process, and I’m still working on it. I’ve learned that it’s important for me to have a little carb or sugar before I run, and I have a more carb-heavy breakfast post-run.
I also learned how to fuel during my longer runs with gels and gummies, which has made it possible for me to run longer distances in a safer, stronger way.
My body runs better when I am feeding her.
I Strength Train to Support My Running
The last thing I’ll add is that while I don’t work with a running coach to try to improve my pace, I do ask my strength coach—Alison Heilig of Miles to Go Athletics, who is also the owner and editor of FBG—to provide me with exercises that will help keep my knees and ankles happy when I am running.
When I was having some knee issues prior to the half marathon I ran earlier this year, my coach gave me some exercises that not only cleared the pain but helped me run 13.1 miles without pain.
Working with someone who is smart and knows how to train for stronger, safer running has helped me take running more seriously without sacrificing the values that have helped me rebuild my relationship with running.
Running Can Still Be Challenging Without Being Punishing
I want to add that this isn’t to say I no longer challenge myself as a runner or that I don’t participate in races. I just don’t put challenge front and center.
I focus more on the experience of running and how it feels to me. I prioritize my mental and physical health over my ego.
It’s also not to say that you can’t be both competitive and have a healthy approach to running. I absolutely think you can. I’ve seen people I deeply respect continue to push and challenge themselves as runners with their health at the forefront.
Maybe someday I’ll get there, too. But for now, I am really happy with the running practice I have rebuilt.
