Running Mindfully

This morning I went over to my friend’s house, hopped on her treadmill, and jogged for 30

minutes. When I finished, I felt a little tired but strong. It was the longest I had run in months.

I began running when I was 14, in high school track and field. I had a decent 800m time (2:45)

but a less-than-satisfying mile time (6:30). The more I finished last at track meets, the more

motivated I became to improve. I worked so hard between 9th and 10th grade that I developed

shin splints during the next season. I felt stronger, but couldn’t improve my times.

I gave up on track & field, but grew to love running as general exercise. I felt that running made

me healthy – physically and emotionally. So that’s what I did during the following years. Always

cardio. Sometimes the spinning bike at my college’s gym when I needed to study at the same

time. Or 56 laps around the school’s indoor track on a snowy day. For a season I biked to and

from work. And for another season I trained for and ran the Chicago marathon. Cardio was

invigorating and cathartic. I convinced myself I was healthy because I had the endurance and

willpower to run faster and further.

Enter 2020. The year of chaos around the globe. I was living in Albania in the springtime and our

country was in a full lockdown for 10 weeks. I couldn’t leave my house for more than an hour a

day to buy groceries. I couldn’t go to the gym or park. I was stuck.

I started doing pilates every day and it was so incredibly hard at first. I began to realize that all

those years of running hadn’t made me as strong as I thought. In summer 2020, I was able to go

back to the states and began to experience the first symptoms of Celiac Disease (though I didn’t

know that was what it was at the time). Even though Covid restrictions weren’t keeping me

inside anymore, my own energy level and stomach pain was. During the months before my

diagnosis, I did yoga every evening. It didn’t help my stomach pain go away, but it didn’t make

it worse. I also began doing pilates more regularly.

After I got my diagnosis in November, I began to research nutrition and exercise. I had always

thought I was “a healthy person” because I did cardio regularly and didn’t eat “fast food.” The

truth was, I was eating all kinds of inflammatory foods without realizing it. I was low on

vitamins. And running was actually not what my body needed. My doctor told me that I needed

to gain weight, so she told me to continue to avoid regular cardio workouts. She encouraged

me to do exercises to gain weight and strength. She even suggested I start fast-walking or

hiking, as other ways to grow stronger.

So that’s where I am today. Not running nearly as often. But I’m okay with that. I used to

believe that my body would be okay with cardio without strength or flexibility training. I was

wrong. I also thought my body needed cardio as an emotional release. But I see now that my emotion should have been addressed in other ways.

I realized that for me, running had been an outlet to process my frustrations and

disappointments physically (like hitting a punching bag or piñata). In the process, for years, I

didn’t really pay much attention to how my body felt. In fact, sometimes if I felt guilty for

something or angry at myself, I would take it out on myself, running too hard. My mindset was

sometimes “I am strong,” “it’s beautiful today,” or “I want to train well for this race.” But

sometimes it also was “This is why you’re alone,” “you’ll never get this right,” or “you’re just

not fit enough or pretty enough.”

As I bring running back into my life as ONE of the MANY fitness workouts I enjoy, I’m changing

my mindset:

1. I am paying attention to my body when it’s telling me that it’s too hard or too far.

2. I am acknowledging that being healthy means being well-rounded and strength can even mean gaining weight!

3. I am being aware of my mindset while running. When I am jogging at the park, am I holding onto the truths that I am dearly loved by God, my friends, and family? Am I keeping in mind that I can confess my failures and continue on in grace? If I'm having a particularly difficult day, am I willing to do yoga or enjoy a peaceful walk, instead of taking to the pavement?

I can choose to be intentional to handle my emotions in healthier ways. Maybe hitting the “reset” button on my fitness regimen was a surprising blessing that came out of 2020.

With Joy,

Annie

"I promise not to see my body as something separate from me, as a commodity, as something that must earn approval to be loved. Just as I am Beloved, so is my body."

-Aundi Kolber in Try Softer