Running: a cure from the storm

I recently read a book called 'Jog On' by Bella Mackie. A book I would recommend everyone to read at this time where we have to embrace the outdoors more. In the book, she explains how her only experience of her twenties were that of tears and barely finding the strength to get off the sofa. This mood being akin to us in these days. Until she found the strength to put on some trainers and go for a run. The book tracks her progress from a novice runner, with setting herself goals to run 5k in under 30 minutes and to attempting 10 push-ups. As a result, her mood slowly began to lift. 

This book basically proves what we have been told by doctors for many years when we struggle with our mental health - to do exercise. Of course this is easier said than done, especially when you are in the pitfire of a mental illness and unable to move from bed. However, there was something inspiring about that idea when I read it through the eyes of someone else. Bella used running to battle her crippling anxiety and depression and shares a wealth of inspirational stories, research and tips that show how exercise often can be the best medicine. Once you take those first steps, no matter how small they may be, the book encourages you to say 'jog on' to your problems and get your life back on track. 

I can relate to Bella's experience better than I have ever related to any book. Whilst our backstories are different, the way in which we utilise and view exercise now are exactly the same. Throughout my childhood, I was fairly slim. I was one of those kids where you would not say they were obese nor skinny but just in the middle. As I got to secondary, it was obvious to myself that I was bigger than my fellow classmates. This is not surprising considering I would eat my school dinner, a dinner at my grans when she picked me up from school and a dinner at home. So technically 3 full portion dinners all in one day. I exercised a lot in primary from swimming to ice-skating which is probably a reason for my weight in my childhood years. I stopped all of this in secondary when the pressures of National 5's, Highers and Advanced Highers hit. I can admit I never really cared about my weight. I cared more about what my grades were and how to get the best marks. 

Then university came. Throughout first year of university, I began to notice a lack of confidence in making friends and approaching people with being a 'bigger' gal. It never hindered me significantly and I have made some of my best friends being at uni. Yet, it was always in the back of my mind. I also want to add that I became a member of the gym when I turned 16. It was purely for the fact that my friends would go and I would get FOMO and offended that I was not invited so I got a membership. Not that I did anything productive apart from go on a crosstrainer for 30 minutes and looked at the clock every minute of those 30 minutes. Then go home and reward myself with lots of chocolate. 

Even at first year of university, I didn't even have a view towards exercise. It is crazy that I never really thought about it. I was more focused on studying and getting my grades. Sometimes I would even forget to eat because I was so focused on studying for hours. I always said to myself I would lose weight and I would last a week and then give up. This all changed when I experienced my first proper breakup when I was 18. It was a huge knock to my self-esteem and I remember I sat binge-watching TV like the typical stereotype out of a movie. I came across this programme called "Khloe Kardashian's revenge body." God knows why shows like that are even allowed to air. This was the catalyst for when I decided to lose weight. 

I started off relatively healthy. I never restricted at all and just became more mindful of what I ate. I would have a Chinese every Saturday night and I would go to the gym 3 times a week after I finished studying in the library at 8 before catching the train home. That time of my life is what I will always refer to as my definition of 'healthy'. In the gym, I would go on the crosstrainer for about 45 minutes and I would not eat lots of chocolate afterwards. The gym was seen less of a chore and I actually enjoyed going after sitting in a library and in lecture halls all day. 

I remember the point when it all changed. The month of April when university exams hit. Trying to balance losing weight and going to the gym with wanting to stay in the library all the time to get A's was a mental battle. I was a high achiever and I still am. I slowly restricted and restricted to compensate for being stuck at a desk all day studying. I used to get so many compliments on how great I looked and how much weight I lost, yet, I did not feel it. I barely did any exercise and I used to see it as a form of self-punishment almost. I thought that once exams were over then all would return to normal. But of course, it didn't.

I hit the gym hard in May once exams ended. I used it to punish myself for not going at all for months. I turned vegan and I had no clue what to even eat so hardly ate anything. I would go to the gym at 7 in the morning where I would do a 5km run then I would go back in the afternoon and do weights and an hour on the bike. I thought I would get fat if I did not run 5km a day.  I was miserable, tired and had no energy. My knees would ache from running and I felt like a hamster on a wheel, not being able to stop.

I eventually did when I moved to Spain and made a pact to myself to do no exercise from September to Christmas. It was exactly what my body needed. I ate what I wanted and I used the experience to find myself. I think because myenvironment around me was changing, I thought to myself 'fuck it' in terms of food, exercising and caring what people thought. In January, I slowly reintroduced the gym again. I covered up the calorie count and just ran on the treadmill until I felt better. I remember the first night I stepped into the gym at Salamanca after a day of classes at uni and I felt a greater rush of anxiety flooding over me. ( I say 'greater' bcos I felt anxious in Spain all the time - normal when you are learning to speak the language.) For me, I had always associated the gym with bad times and burning calories. I gave myself a pep talk and went on the treadmill, covering the calorie count and km count with a sticky note, and just ran. I took it off and never looked. I did this every time I went to the gym in Spain and I will probably continue to do it when the gyms open back up in Scotland. 

It is a reminder that exercise is not about burning calories but moving your body and celebrating how wonderful it is. It is listening to your body. When I was 18, I never listened to my body at all. It was constantly craving food and I just ignored it. With running, I am more intune with my body than I have ever been before. I know that I need to fuel it properly to perform better the next day. In Spain, running gave me a break from the constant tears of missing home and anxiety at even going to the shop because for that time in the gym I was only focusing on my breathing and putting one foot in front of the other. It felt amazing to get that feeling again from the gym that I had at the beginning. 

In this lockdown, I feel more and more people are seeing these benefits of exercise, a time where we were limited to doing 1 hour of outdoor exercise a day. It has encouraged people to see the mental benefits, not just the physical. For so long, I seen running as the storm but now I see it as a cure from it. There are some days when I have no energy and I hate every bit of the run. But there are some days where I have had such an enjoyable run. And that is the beauty of it. 

Running has helped me get out of periods of intense anxiety of moving flats where I was so close to going home. Even in this lockdown, I have woke up some days with a tight feeling across my chest and I go for a run and it lifts. I have no idea why it does, but it does. I think a run mirrors my experience of having a panic attack - shortness of breath and racing heart. It is as if I have already had my panic for the day so it is away and I can continue with my life. I have went out runs with my dad and spent more time with him than I had ever done before this lockdown. I have learned to utilise exercise - something I used as a form of punishment for eating bad - to something that is almost medicine to my mental wellbeing. The journey to this point has been very long but I am glad I am at this point now. Of course I am not completely cured but running has given me and gives me that boost in the days I have felt at my lowest. And the more I do it, the less low days I have. I am now vegetarian and I have the most energy I have ever had in all my life. 

I view running now as part of my lifestyle. A form of self-care like a bubble bath. I always thought it was something I done for a limited amount of time.  Just till I lost enough weight and felt happy in myself. But I've realised that you are never going to be truly content with the way you look. You will always want to change something about your body. I think that I will stop running when I don't reap the benefits from it. The time when it becomes a form of self-punishment again. But for now it makes life that bit more bearable and I am incredibly grateful for that.