When Running Forgot To Love Me Back

I remember the day I fell in love with running.

I also remember the day that running forgot to love me back.

You’ve probably heard people say that running is their therapy, their escape. Many people believe that. Contrary to popular belief, that’s not a healthy mindset. Why? Because at any given moment running can be taken from you. For so many people, when this happens, things fall apart. It’s often temporary but sometimes it’s permanent and this can leave a hole in the heart of a runner.

My story about running is different. I didn’t stop loving running. Running wasn’t really taken from me, though maybe it was temporarily out of reach. So, what happened then?

Running forgot to love me back

You see. I loved running with my whole heart and soul. It was my everything for 4 solid years. We were the best of friends. We had each other’s backs through thick and thin. We climbed mountains together, made friends together, and even stood on podiums together.

Running helped me find myself when I didn’t know I was lost and once it helped me find myself it helped me guide myself into a life that I never knew I wanted and never thought I could have.

Running gave me some of the best years of my life. We traveled together, discovered confidence together, and tested our limits together, we truly did it all. Because of running, I found myself in some of the most amazing friendships and locations. I saw breathtaking views and laughed unforgettable laughs. I discovered self-worth and inspired others to find theirs.

When running and I were at our all-time high I couldn’t imagine my life without it. It simply was not possible. I knew that no matter what, I would always have running, and running would always have me.

Until it didn’t.

You see, 2023 was a nightmare of a year. Honestly, things really started going downhill in December of 2022. My grandma, my best friend, told me that she was told she only had about 6 months to live. One of my best friends became distant due to umm, indifferences? Which led to a whole cascade of emotions and struggles.

In 2023, my grandma died. My dad seemed to be in the hospital more than he was out. And then, I experienced a pregnancy loss. The same weekend my dad had one of his worst hospitalizations. It felt like my world was falling apart.

As my world crumbled around me, I looked for running, and it wasn’t there. Where were you? And why did you take the beautiful views, friends, podiums, confidence, optimism, and unforgettable laughs with you?

I needed running. But it forgot to need me back. It forgot to love me back. And oh boy, did I need the love.

I tried to find running, only to find myself instead sitting on the side of a trail crying. I went looking for it, only to find myself lying in the fetal position unable to move due to seemingly unbearable cramping and bleeding. I went searching for running, but I couldn’t find it within the confined walls of the hospital. It wasn’t there when I picked up the phone to talk about my day and when I reached out my hand, all I could grasp was the memories of all that running had given me.

When running forgot to be there for me — when it forgot to love me back — I slowly but surely began to give up on it. I tried to rekindle the connection we once had but it refused to give me what it once did.

When I ran, I couldn’t escape. I couldn’t forget. And I couldn’t find the person it helped me to become. I didn’t think it was possible to break the bond that we had but grief, loneliness, stress, and worry… they wrapped running up in a box and told it to keep its mouth shut.

And it did. It stayed quiet. Because I stopped talking to it. I stopped asking it to save me because it failed me so many times. So, the box full of miles, confidence, and goals sat there, in the dark. Untouched.

I was angry with running. I was hurt that when I needed it the most, it couldn’t be there for me. Everyone said it would. Running is my therapy they said. It’s my escape. It’s my church. But it couldn’t be that for me.

Then I began to blame myself. Why couldn’t it be? Was I not the runner I thought I was? Did running not mean enough to me and therefore couldn’t do for me what it did for everyone else? I felt lazy and sad and angry and all those things. Because I wanted running back and I wanted it to want me too.

So here we are. 1.5 years after running started forgetting to love me back. 1 year since running didn’t know what to say when I asked for help. And about 6 months since running tried to come out of the box it was put in and I shoved it right back.

Last week I stuck to my training plan and almost ran a 20-mile week. This week I will do the same. And I am hopeful that in 9 months, running and I will go on a 30+ mile journey through the mountains of Europe and have the time of our lives.

I liked to think that I was the person who could bury their feeling in miles and trails. I liked to think that the physical pain or hard workouts could numb the emotional pain of loss and stress. That is not me. I am not that person and that does not mean that I do not love running. It just means that running and I had to come to a new understanding, we needed a separation, and we will be okay.

The truth is, it’s possible to power through the pain during a race, but it’s not always possible to power through the emotional pain that life sometimes throws your way. That is ok. That doesn’t make you weak and that doesn’t mean you are not an athlete. It means you are human. The thing is, running can (and will) come back to you when the time is right. Which cannot be said for many people you will lose in your life.

So, I’m sorry. I apologize to running for not being there for me when I thought I needed it. I’m sorry that I accused you of not loving me back. I know now that you knew what I needed to heal, and you were happy to sit quietly and wait until the time was right to help me find myself once again.

So, here’s to us. Me and running in 2025. Let’s run this bitch.

Throw back to when running and I had each other’s backs. Mindset is everything.