I believe there are certain behaviors and coping mechanisms that, when one suffers from mental health issues, one is innately drawn to. Obviously, there are people who self-medicate with drugs and alcohol. On the other (nerdier) end of the spectrum, I’ve noticed a definite correlation between mental illness and comics creators, whether that be anxiety or depression or whatnot. There’s something therapeutic in the process of sitting alone, drawing, working through mental anguish and then releasing it to the public; a cursory survey of the independent comics scene backs this up in a big way. I’ve also long believed that running - not just exercise but running specifically - attracts its fair share of mental heath sufferers. Lo and behold, along comes “Running Is My Therapy: Relieve Stress And Anxiety, Fight Depression, Ditch Bad Habits, And Live Happier” by “Runner’s World” editor, Scott Douglas, to confirm my suspicions. As a resurgent runner and someone who lives with mental illness, this book was music to my ears and also provided me with some relevant tips, techniques, and inspirations.
Scott Douglas has dysthymia, a kind of pervasive low-grade depression. I have cyclothymia, a mild form of bi-polar disorder; basically, like Douglas, I have a similar low-level depression but it alternates with extremely subdued manic periods (what most people would deem “normal”). Though I do take antidepressants, it’s not trite to admit that running IS, in fact, my therapy. There are few things more refreshing and reinvigorating than the exhausted glow I get following a particularly long run or a hard workout. “Running Is My Therapy” explains why: the way running alters brain chemistry and structure, how it reinforces cognitive and creative processes, the ways it encourages restorative behaviors, etc. Douglas supports these revelations with fascinating (and sometimes slightly dry) scientific evidence of how the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other at an aerobic pace can unlock benefits that equal - and sometimes rival - therapy, medication, and other more accepted forms of self-care. The book also provides some guidance on how to best harness these benefits, including how to recognize if you’re relying too much on running to manage your mental health (as someone who admittedly has an obsessive personality, I found this section to be very useful). “Running Is My Therapy” is a stark reminder that, in the United States, we rely too much on pharmaceuticals and expensive treatments when a perfectly adequate treatment is a single step away.
I’ve been running long enough, and dealing with my cyclothymia long enough, to know that the former has obviously made the latter more manageable. It’s reassuring, however, to know that my experiences are backed by science. Even if they weren’t, though, I’d still be lacing up my running shoes most mornings, using my body to clear my mind. “Running Is My Therapy” just proves that I’m far from the only one.