Sunday Redneck Run Club
Shifting Sunday's perspective through perspiration
Saturday morning I woke up depressed.
This happens to me periodically. Blame my high ACEs score or family risk factors. Blame the small amount of indulgence I had on Friday night. Blame the moon and solar flares… I don’t know this time. But for whatever reason, I woke up with overwhelming imposter syndrome, a feeling of dread, and an internal monologue that insisted that everything I want in life isn’t possible.
On Saturday I told myself not to attach too hard. That it would be over soon.
But Sunday morning I woke up feeling even worse. Overnight I’d had some shame filled dreams about my ex husband, stuffed full of all my worst self-perceptions. I sleep with both an Oura ring and the Garmin Fenix 7 ~ they both showed my nervous system (measured via Heart Rate Variability) hadn’t really settled overnight.
Translation: I didn’t recover and restore during sleep.
Normally on one weekend morning I’ll take a longer run. “Longer” has become relative since the medical challenges earlier this year, but the plan had been to try and push mileage this weekend as long as I was up to it. Now, this stupid melancholy had my stupid widgets telling me to take it easy.
Harumph, I say.
As I mentioned, I’ve struggled with episodes of depression much of my adult life. In my 20s I decided to at least try observing the patterns and trying to shift them instead of going on medication. No judgement of those who do - I just wasn’t sure it was the right call for me.
What I learned in observing these episodes, and in the subsequent decades that I’ve been studying lifestyle and wellbeing, is that there’s a lot you can do once you’re able to recognize you’re starting to spin up (down?) And, there’s a lot that can help me prevent one from starting.
For example, back in 2018 I was in the middle of a divorce. I’d had a good couple of days without getting too blue. The sun was shining, it felt like things were looking up, and my friend were starting a whiskey book club - book at a whiskey bar. Awesome! I went, had 2 tasty drinks, practically skipped my way home… and woke up the next day barely able to function.
Brown liquors are now severely limited. An ounce of prevention and all that…
I’ve learned how to be both proactive and reactive
In the 20 years since my first adult depressive episode I’ve learned a thing or 3 about what actually helps and what’s just snake oil. I settled into building 2 kinds of systems
Proactive - building the systems that keep me high functioning - working with and around these mental health challenges and a chronic illness. Things like eating healthy, going to bed on time, and working out.
Reactive - having solid strategies and protocols for dealing with common issues that arise. For my physical health that may mean rolling, corrective exercises, bracing, etc. For my mental health that often means using tools of physical and emotional wellbeing to get the apple cart back on it’s wheels.
Sunday morning it was time to roll out the ole mental health practice…
First I sat with coffee and journal and wrote all my garbage out of my head. Next I meditated - which is normally about 15 minutes but I ended up sitting there for over an hour processing difficult emotions that were arising. Following my breath. Remembering that no one expects me to be the master of the universe. Asking for guidance and support from powers greater than me.
Finally, it was run time.
Perhaps you’ve heard that exercise is good for your mental health. There are 2 vital mechanisms of action. First, when your muscles contract they release myokines. These are peptide molecules that improve brain function and neuroplasticity - they make it easier to change your mind (literally). Second, moderate intensity cardiovascular activity makes your nervous system more sensitive to your own serotonin. Throw in a dash of nature, which induces self-transcendence, and you get the experience commonly known as the “runner’s high”.
If you know anything about depression you know the last thing most people want is to see other people when they are depressed - but as soon as I got up the first hill I ran into my high school French teacher. Oh, the joys and challenges of moving from the complete anonymity of New York City to your small town of origin during the pandemic…
She chatted away about family and gossip and we walked together for about a mile before I kicked off to start the actual run. I realized as I did was better for the time spent with her, even if I’d expected otherwise.
Time to tap into the ole myokines!
From my house it’s 2 miles of hill climbs to a plateau of farms with more gently rolling hills. After my walk with Madam, I had another mile to grind out before the easy, enjoyable part would start. That’s just about when I looked up to realize that plodding along in front of me was my high school cross-country coach.
My first impulse was “oh, come on!”; but over the course of the mile between when I first saw her gait and when I pulled up along side her I remembered our first time running together. In 7th grade I’d tried out for the cross country team because my brother Dave was on the team. At that point in my life I mostly followed my brothers. I was the only kid who showed up that day and she took my for a few loops around the old cinder track, encouraging me in her kind and open-hearted way.
There’s research that shows that this combination of nostalgia and gratitude opens us up. It makes us more cognitively flexible, like the myokines. There’s also another benefit to movement I didn’t mention - when we move with other people we feel a deeper sense of belonging, even if we don’t speak. She and I jogged along together. She a lifelong runner in her 60s wearing a beat-up old New York City Marathon. Me, just moments ago longing for the anonymity of running in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park.
Eventually I turned around, knowing I was father from home than I’d run in a year and I had to truck all the way back. She kept on ~ many more miles to go on her Sunday ritual.
One More Surprise
As I turned around for the 4 mile backtrack home I felt myself opening up. Looking over the rolling hills of Upstate New York, the clear blue sky, and listening to Ram Daas “Here and Now” podcast I felt the genuine appreciation of the decades of self experimentation it took to be able to snap myself out of that kind of mindset. To the teachers and coaches and mentors who’ve taught me all the ideas and skills I’d need to be able to put all this together.
And juuuust as I was getting a bit too sentimental about it… a group of sheep started running along side me!
Yes! SHEEP! (Click the image to watch a video of it)
I started laughing in a giddy, ridiculous way. I haven’t spent a ton of time with sheep, but I have lived near farms for much of my life and I’ve never had something like this happen before.
They were cute and silly and really trucking along! (Seriously, go watch the video.)
Where am I going with this?
I have spent decades personally and professionally working on wellbeing and I like to think I know a thing or 3. About what people need and what I need.
If you had asked me Sunday morning I would have told you I needed time for reflection and the space to do my inner work. To please not pop my bubble.
For whatever reason the Universe felt that 3 bubble pops were necessary. Two of my favorite people who always showed me encouragement and care and a bit of silly, fuzzy, galloping nature to boot.
Yes, have a plan.
Yes, let that plan be evidence-based.
But when the world gives you exactly what you need get your nerdy ego out of the way.