Throughout the majority of my life- I never considered myself to be athletic. I was the type of child who avoided organized sports, dreaded going to gym class every day, and could not even fathom how some people actually enjoyed running. Even in high school when I swam for the school team, I still didn’t really see myself as an athlete, and struggled to love even my favorite mode of exercise.
Fast forward to college life, when the stresses of change started to eat away at me. My anxiety and other issues became so much to deal with that I fell into the bad habits of stress eating and not sleeping- which hurt my self esteem and self image. I was a mess, struggling to find something to clear my head, even if it was just for a few moments, and get away from the reality of everything. And then one night, after a terribly rough day, I laced up my sneakers, threw in my head phones and started running around my campus. I needed to do something to make me forget my problems and to work out all the emotions that were eating me alive. In that first run I struggled to go for very long or very hard, but in that moment, I knew I found something that finally worked.
Running became my number one way, after that night, to free my mind and escape the reality around me. I could lose myself in my workout playlist and the sounds of my footsteps hitting the ground. It helped me work through my issues in a healthy way that made me feel good and under control. I began running as much as I could throughout the week, because I loved the way it made me feel physically and mentally.
But while running helped me tackle some demons, it also created others. As I became more active and started to feel better in both mind and body, I also became crippled by the fear of sliding back to that bad place before I found a healthy outlet for my anxieties. I became obsessed with my workouts, beating myself up if I missed one or if I couldn’t perform as well as I wanted to. Running became a chore- something I had to do, no matter how tired or sick I felt, because if I didn’t do it I would gain weight, or feel stressed, or start hating myself and my life again. I turned something that was once so great for me into something else- something that I hated and consumed my life.
Eventually, I realized I had to change this attitude. I stopped pushing myself so much and tried to look at running not as a chore, or an obligation, but as something I loved. I began to focus more on the positives of running, seeing it as a stress reliever, a way to feel good when I wanted it, not as something I had to do always or else. I realized that it's difficult to find a balance of the good and the bad that each activity holds, but finding that balance and remembering your love and passion for something is the only way to be fulfilled by it.
So now, the awkward, nonathletic child that I once was has taken something she hated and turned it into a passion. This passion has helped me and hurt me, because the thin line between passion and unhealthy obsession is easy to cross. Now, as I consider signing up for my first half marathon- I try to look forward to pursuing my interest, and not let my insecurities and anxieties corrupt what I love.
