How the run transformed me

I started running when I was eight years old. It was suggested to my father by my 2nd-grade soccer coach because I kept tripping over my own legs in practice and games. The coach thought that running would help me on the soccer field. That spring I joined the inaugural Boy’s Club of America (later Boy’s and Girl’s Club) track team. I remember running from the Boy’s Club facility to the St. Charles High School track and thinking “this is going to kill me. I’m never going to make it.” It was maybe a ½ mile.

I soon started to look to improve by entering road races. The first road race I entered was with some of my father’s co-workers. My dad would later tell me that his co-workers complained about my entering the race because they didn’t want to wait for some kid to finish before they could leave. I was the one waiting for them at the finish line.

I was diagnosed with ADHD at age 5 in first grade at the Catholic school. My kindergarten teacher told my parents that I was incapable of learning and that I would never make it past the 3rd grade. I was labeled the bad kid.

That label followed me throughout my education. In 2nd grade, our teacher had a system that if you did something wrong that the student lost recess. I never had recess in 2nd grade. In 3rd grade, I had to bring home daily progress notes home to my parents. By 4th grade, I was getting kicked out of class on a regular basis. If you look closely at my ears, you will notice that one ear lobe is longer than the other. You can thank my 5th-grade teacher for that feature, who would escort me out of class by pulling on that ear. 6th grade was taught by two nuns. They reminded me regularly that I was stupid.

My parents and teachers did figure out, though, that on the days that I ran before school, I was more manageable. So that became a requirement by the school. Shaun needs to run in the morning so that he can sit still and not be a bother. So I ran 2 miles every morning. The parents of my friends told me that they always knew what time to wake up their kids by seeing me run by their house.

Running became my way of responding to my world. When I was angry, sad, hurt, or lonely I would run. It was a way that an ADHD child who struggled with regulating his emotions dealt with life. When I got in trouble (again) in school for being impulsive, I would go for a run after school. When my parents got mad at me (for being impulsive) I went for a run. When my peers would laugh at me (for being impulsive), I would go for a run.

I would go on what I would call “anger runs” in which I would measure my anger by running my 2-mile loop as hard as I could until I collapsed. I would know how angry I was by how far I made it. I never made it an entire 2 miles but I did have many ½-mile and mile runs in there. There was the occasional 1.5 mile. Those were hard days. Later, in high school, it would help my track team beat the high school 4x800 school record. There were 5 of us competing for the four spots. The competition pushed us, the four spots always up for grabs. And while I was the fifth person that day, it was that inner competition that led to the record. It all started with my anger runs.

So, these life experiences affected how I see myself, how I see others, and how I respond to my world. I responded by running. Running was the only time I was able to feel in control. It was the only time I felt free.

It was also running that gave me belonging Running gave me happy memories of times spent with loved ones. Track meets were all-day events with only moments where you were busy with your events. It allowed for downtime to spend time with friends, family, and coaches laughing and sharing our lives.

As a kid, the regional meet every year was at Poplar Bluff, Missouri. We would get a hotel for the 3 or 4-day meet, compete during the day, and play in the pool at night. Arcades, pizza places, friends, and family. My first crush in 6th grade happened in Poplar Bluff. Qualifying for Nationals happened at Poplar Bluff.

Running gave me life. It gave me purpose. And after 25 years of working in mental health, I have come to learn is those that who overcome, those that succeed when the probability of success was small, those who adapt, and those who persevere are those that have a purpose.

That is the transformative power of the Run.