I was never a runner. Even at my peak of fitness in high school as a member of the varsity soccer team, I didn’t like to run. Running a mile on the track was an unbearable task that I couldn’t wait to finish. Doing a mile in under 10 minutes was a major accomplishment for me. I could sprint pretty fast (you kind of have to when your last name is “Speed” and you play midfielder or people make fun of you mercilessly) but any kind of distance running was unimaginable to me. I thought the folks who ran cross-country were literally out of their minds.

I flirted with distance running over the years but I never really got into it. I look back on my Facebook statuses from years past and every now and then I would see a “Hey, just got back from a 2 mile run” post but it never really stuck.

Then, in early 2015, I made a serious commitment to improving my health. I started going to boot camp with my wife, focused on getting my food intake under control, and decided that I needed to give running another try.

I have a bad tendency to set impossibly aggressive goals for myself and then beat myself up when I fail to accomplish them. I decided that it would be different this time with running. At first, I still wasn’t a fan, but I decided to be a little more patient with myself. Maybe it’s the wisdom of age that kicked in and I realized I didn’t need to be running the Boston Marathon in 6 months in order to consider myself a successful runner.

What I began to discover was that the real benefits of running were not only physical but mental as well.

I, like most of us, am constantly under pressure by demands on my time and energy. My work is demanding. I have a wife and 3 kids to provide for, both financially and emotionally. I have a house and yard that need to be maintained. I have people who count on me.

Running is something I do just for me. It is all about being selfish. I usually run alone, although I enjoy running in races of various lengths (up to this point, 5Ks and 10Ks) and LOVE participating in the “Reach The Beach” 200 mile relay race every September in New Hampshire with my team “Need for Speed” (yes, this is really the team name and no, it was not named for me).

Since I began my meditation and mindfulness practice, I have realized that running is a form of meditation for me. The time I spend on the road is MY time – no one from work to ask me the status on the latest action item, no guilt over the fact that I haven’t paid the bills or cleaned the pool, no listening to the latest insanity coming out of our political leaders in Washington. I get to decide what thoughts I let into my mind and which ones I will let go.

When I am out on the road, there is nothing but me, my thoughts, and typically my music. I usually run listening to music but recently have begun to appreciate running with nothing more than the sounds of nature or road noise and the pounding of my feet against the pavement to keep me company. I have also recently discovered the beauty of running while listening to, and chanting along with, Kirtan music, specifically by artist Krishna Das.

The insights I have obtained during my runs have been profound. That’s what happens when I allow my mind to be quiet and to let thoughts flow freely. I have solved work problems while running, gained insights on how to deal with relationships, and generally obtained a perspective that can only be found when I take the time to really listen to what is going on inside my head rather than trying to avoid it.

I usually cry in one of three places: in the shower, while driving, or while I am running. During my runs, sometimes it is just a few gentle tears, but there have been a couple of times when the crying was so gut wrenching that I needed to stop my run because I literally couldn’t breathe and I thought I was going to vomit. Sorry for being so graphic but it is what it is…

There is actually scientific research that has been done about the value of running as therapy. There was a recent article about it in Runners World magazine that I shared with my therapist in the hopes that she might be able to share the insights in the article with some of her other clients.

So, while my therapist is beyond irreplaceable, and I think she knows that, the therapy I get at my feet several days a week helps to make the limited amount of time we have together more productive. Therapy is not something I do for an hour a week when I am with her – it’s that plus the time I spend on the road.

I think running helps to be a more balanced person – physically, mentally, and spiritually. And, for that, I am grateful.

Namaste.