I went for a run and it saved my life

Just me and a long black road. Sunrise spills across the pavement, lighting up the steam rising from my breath as my lungs gasp for air and my feet pound the ground in a stuttering cadence. A cool breeze brushes my face, but it provides no relief from the pain. When I reach the end of the road, the reality hits—I still have 2 miles left to get back home. I slow to a walk, heart trying to burst out of my chest, legs heavy with lactic acid. And I realize I’m out of shape, and the annual community 5K is only two months away. Just thinking about it makes me sick.

I see my house in the distance and suddenly I unlock a new gas tank. I sprint at top speed until I cross the imaginary finish line. I bend over, gasping for air. I realize I feel amazing. The relief of getting something hard out of the way first thing in the morning feels great. The stress and anger have left my body one step at a time.

The next morning my legs were stiff and sore when I got out of bed, but I forced myself to lace up my shoes and hit the roads. I was craving the sweet relief of finishing and the sense of accomplishment after completing a hard task. “Just half a mile,” I told myself. Half a mile turned into a whole mile, and after just 8 minutes I was done. I continued showing up every day I could. Eventually I wasn’t sore anymore. Then my one-mile runs became two and then three. I woke up every morning craving the feeling of going for a run, and slowly but surely it was getting easier — a little more bounce in my step, more air for my lungs.

I have always been a runner since the beginning of my memory. Some of my favorite memories are going for runs with my grandfather and stopping to pick blackberries during the local 5K. As time went on I got bigger and faster, and suddenly I was known for being fast. That’s when I began feeling the pressure to perform well in races, and running became stressful rather than fun. I avoided running with my parents or uncle and basically stopped for a few years. The community race was canceled due to COVID for two years, so I didn’t have to worry about it for a while. But now the race was happening and everyone was expecting me to be fast, when in reality I was out of shape.

I began running again for the sole purpose of not bombing the race, but somewhere during the process running turned from a chore into something enjoyable. It changed my life for the better, became part of my identity, and I never stopped.

The average person quits running after only 7 days. Once you make it to 10–14 days things change — soreness goes away, breathing gets easier, and running begins to become enjoyable. By 20–30 days you’re hooked. Running is a habit, it becomes part of your identity, and missing a day feels like breaking routine. Stick with it for 2 weeks, and you’ll probably keep going for months or years. In my case, I started right after my 16th birthday and am now 18 and have been running almost every day since then.

Running slowly changed me in ways I could never have expected. My endurance improved drastically; sports stopped tiring me out, and I could hold a conversation while running. My sleep transformed too, I began falling asleep more easily and resting more deeply. I became more productive in school and work, with a sharper mind and a stronger sense of motivation. Even my sense of time shifted: a 20-minute run stopped feeling long, and eventually a full hour felt normal. I started craving the morning win, that feeling of having done something hard before the day even began. My mental health steadied as stress melted away and my mood became more stable. I began planning my days around my runs, letting them anchor my routine, and even my pain tolerance grew — emotional stress, anxiety, and everyday discomfort all hurt less. Running didn’t just make me fitter; it reshaped how I moved through the world.

Somewhere in those lonely, seemingly endless miles, not only did my body change but my mind did too. Now my morning runs are my thinking time, the part of the day that belongs only to me. I plan my day, set goals, and daydream about the future. Running has carried me through the hardest moments of my life, and that consistency along with those small daily wins made even the rough days feel lighter. Along the way, I’ve collected memories I’ll never forget: winning races, running with friends, and jogging through wild beaches, majestic mountains, and historic cities.