Running Was My First Therapist

How Movement Helped Me Heal When Words Couldn’t

I didn’t start running to train for a race. I started running because I needed peace.

There were seasons in my life where grief weighed me down and the noise in my head was too loud to sit still. Running became my safe place. First a 5K. Then a 10K. Eventually a half-marathon. I trained by running up to 17 miles at a time and took part in three-day relay races—pushing through exhaustion not just physically, but emotionally.

Every step on the pavement helped me process pain I couldn’t speak aloud. It was therapy in motion. A place to cry, to pray, to think, and sometimes just to breathe.

What surprised me most was that I felt God there—in the wind, in the silence, in the rhythm of my heartbeat. My mother always told me God would meet me in the quiet places. As a child, she taught me to pray, to believe, and to trust. Her voice stayed with me through every mile, reminding me that healing is possible—if you keep moving forward.

Running became more than exercise. It was how I grounded myself. It was how I released what I couldn’t carry anymore. It didn’t judge. It didn’t ask for perfection. It just met me where I was.

Healing doesn't always start in a clinic. Sometimes it starts on a trail, in your shoes, with your heart wide open. That's what running gave me-a space to breathe, to feel, and to rise again. And that same spirit of healing lives in every product I create for Legends of Hope.