Depression Marathon Blog

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Diagnosed with depression 18 years ago, I lost the life I once knew, but in the process re-created a better me. I am alive and functional today because of my dog, my treatment team, my sobriety, and my willingness to re-create myself within the confines of this illness. I hate the illness, but I'm grateful for the person I've become and the opportunities I've seized because of it. I hope writing a depression blog will reduce stigma and improve the understanding and treatment of people with mental illness. All original content copyright to me: etta. Enjoy your visit!

Saturday, July 30, 2016


If I do nothing else today, and I just may not based on how I'm feeling right now, I've already had what I hope will be a momentous day. I ran this morning. Yes, that's right, I ran.

It's been just over 15 months since I originally suffered a partial tear to my right Achilles tendon. I haven't raced in nearly 2 years. If you had told me after the Mankato Half Marathon in mid-October, 2014, that I wouldn't race again until, hopefully, the Fall of 2016, I'd have told you to shut up. I knew when I tore my Achilles in April, 2015, that I was in for a long recovery, but I never expected this. Fifteen months is a long, long time.

And yet here I am, alive and fairly well, despite not being able to run for over a year. That's why my 51 minute run this morning was a momentous occasion. I was more than a little nervous when I stepped outside. I was scared. What if I couldn't do it? What if I suddenly felt pain again? I knew I'd be totally demoralized if that happened. Thankfully, it didn't.

Jet and I walked for a block and then slowly picked up the pace. I was so worried. I had run for 25 minutes at 100% of my body weight on the Alter-G Treadmill, at 7:45 pace, on Thursday, and it went well, but I knew running on the street would be different. It was. I felt very heavy and very slow initially. I looked down at my watch after a few blocks. I was running around 10:30 pace, and I could barely breathe! I decided not to look at my watch again.

After a few miles, I was still breathing heavily, but I was more relaxed and moving quicker than I had initially, and most importantly, I wasn't having any pain. I was hyper-vigilantly monitoring every right foot landing and propulsion. I stayed close to home in case I needed to stop suddenly, but I reveled in the sunshine and warmth. I smiled and said hello to every runner I passed, and I cherished being among them. I loved the feeling of running again.

I'm now sitting here satisfied and grateful, but I'm still a little nervous. What if I have pain later? What if it just doesn't hurt yet? I'm trying to push these thoughts out, however, and have faith that all will be okay. I've already iced my ankle, and I'll foam roll my calves later. I have to keep my focus on the actions I can control while leaving the results to God.

I ended up running over 5 miles at 9 minute pace. I actually stopped more out of concern for my dog, Jet, than for my Achilles. He was looking hot and tired, but he was smiling, too. It's been a long time for both of us. A momentous day? I certainly hope so. Carry on, my friends.


Ela Kaimo said...

I am so happy for you! I miss running.

Anonymous said...

Great, great news! I hope it's just the beginning.

To tell the truth, I am always nervous when I step out the door for a run, injured or not, so you have that on me!

I got to run with my daughter this morning, and she'll be my wingman for the NYC Marathon, so that filled me with some confidence I've been sorely missing.

Your good news has put some shine on my afternoon.

Susan Weller said...


Grace Wisdom said...

That is fabulous!!!