After 17 years of denial I am just coming to terms with the inevitable truth, I am RAD. I have been running against depression (RAD) both as a runner and a trained behavioral neuroscientist for far too long, but now I am facing my own limitations. Join me on my journey to healing and peace, find out if you too are RAD. And let's learn to run WITH depression together, one footfall at a time.
Coach has amped up my half marathon
training recently. So I ran hills...with a stroller.
You're thinking the
downhill would be easier and faster, I'm thinking you've never run hills.
Uphill is brutal, downhill is a race to catch up without slamming your feet
into the ground trying to slow down or over striding. Hill running is about
balance. Too fast and you are eating pavement, too slow and you are
crushing your feet, knees, etc. Balance. It was a short run and it was brutal.
You work hard for running gains, you work hard for life goals. For some reason
I felt like telling my son about hill running so the first 5 minutes I talked
about how to run hills. Quick short steps up, longer strides down...but not too
My hill running mantra has always been "what goes up must come
down." This translates into it's not always difficult, it will get easier.
Every runner has a hill mantra.
Or else they walk hills. :)
Then I went on a brief tangent about
how life is like hill running, some of the best life lessons are hills. And it
is true. Sometimes you are coasting on an easy flat. Then you hit some small
hills, little inclines that challenge you. And one day...bam...that hill. You
know the one. The grade is so steep you literally feel like you aren't moving anymore.
Yea, I know. Almost too obvious for a life analogy. I thought grad school was
THAT hill for me.
I knew nothing.
That was just a speed hump.
Now is THAT hill.
Right effing now.
And apparently I haven't been
training for hills lately.
I told my therapist I felt lost in
session number 2. But it's more like I feel like I am busting my ass to stay
still. Running THAT hill and going nowhere. No forward motion happening. He
told me to write until I didn't feel that way. I wrote one sentence and
realized that lost feeling, that inner silence, that not moving
sensation...it's me taking a break.
Wait for it.
Yes. I haven't taken a real break to
think about what I want out of life in who knows how long. I've just been
going. Coasting from one opportunity to another. But this last time I ignored
the inner voice that's been guiding up those hills and along the flats. I made
a pragmatic decision. And I was wrong.
Doesn't happen often, but when it
does...akin to running barefoot on pavement.
Really bad idea.
So, with the support of my husband I
undid that decision. And I was left with silence.
Silent hill climbs are insanely
I thought my inner voice, my mantra
chanter, my guide got pissed off and left me.
She had done her job. So she sat
back and savored the quiet. And the moment I quit typing and put pen to paper I
realized this wasn't a flat I was coasting, this was it. This was THAT hill.
The one that would break me before I finished it. But ultimately, leave me
stronger than I could ever imagine.
So don't mind me. I'm not 'just' a
I am mama.
I’m a mama with unfulfilled
I’m a mother running PhD.
I'm not lost at all.
I am right where I am meant to be right now.
About ten minutes after my talk on
our run, after cruising in silence for a bit, my son randomly pipes up
"Don't give up,
No worries little man, I didn't.
Taking this damn hill one effing step at a time.