Running is Terrible. So I Signed up for a Half-Marathon.

Reposted from Adrienne's Heavy Petal Substack

I’m making an announcement, partly to keep myself accountable and mostly to try to do something to help others when I feel helpless.

This summer I will be running a half-marathon. I should mention, I don’t like running. I’m not good at it either, which is why I’m choosing a half-marathon, not a full marathon. The only time I find running remotely enjoyable is when I’m running downhill in the mountains with my running playlist at full volume in my headphones. Kind of like the way Pheobe runs on Friends. I hiked a lot after my divorce and literally tried to outrun the pain of that time. (But only on the downhills.)

I lost myself in the rhythm of familiar trails, in the physical exertion that could replace the mental fatigue for a while. I lost myself in the beauty of the mountains where I live. I signed up for my first trail race the year I turned 40, because changing decades is a bit of a mindfuck, and because it was about a year and a half after my divorce. I was supposed to go with a friend. We trained for months for this race in another town. Then my friend had to cancel at the last minute. I remember driving to the race alone, early in the morning, the sun not even up yet, extremely nervous. I called both my mom and my sister on the way there. When I told them my friend had bailed, they both asked, in separate conversations, Why are you still doing this? I was surprised by the lack of encouragement. I didn’t anticipate the question. All I could think to say was, because I can.

I have had family and friends lose their health and their lives. Some because of age, some more unexpectedly. Every few years, I like to remind myself that if I can still complete something like a trail race, then I should. My dad was sick for many years before he passed. I often think about how, towards the end, he wished he could still hike or run or move the way he used to. Now my mom is sick, and I see the frustration she has that she can’t do everything she used to do.

I come back to the reality that the only things I really have control over are my own actions.

As I mentioned in my last post, I have known two teenagers who have died in the past year, and countless others who are deeply struggling. I wish I could do something. I’ve seen parents desperate to help their children. I have felt desperate to help my own child. I often feel helpless. And again, there is only so much I can do.

I know it’s impossible to ease the pain for others, even though I wish I could “fix” everything. But I can do something to contribute to organizations filled with humans who are working every day to help young people and their families. Organizations that provide education, advocacy, and resources for people who are struggling with mental health issues, suicidal ideation, or substance abuse and addiction.

I have once again been reminded how urgent this work really is.

So I have decided to challenge myself and sign up for a half-marathon to raise money for young people in crisis.

We talk a lot about these issues in the abstract: statistics, policy, headlines, perhaps because it’s easier to digest that way. But behind every statistic there is a child and a family with a story of devastation and heartbreak.

So this summer, I’m going to run because:

1. I can

2. It helps me process my own pain

3. I have to do something

And I’m inviting people to sponsor the run, like an old school walk-a-thon.

People can donate any amount: $1, $5, $25, $100 per mile or for the whole race, to support youth mental health and substance use prevention efforts. 100% of the money raised will go to organizations that work directly with young people and families navigating these challenges.

I have chosen to donate the money to two organizations, one that is local to me and one that is national:

• The Compassion Project, here in Montana, works to foster compassion through art and mindfulness, addressing loneliness, isolation, inequity, and mental health challenges across our communities.

• Shatterproof, a national non-profit dedicated to ending the addiction crisis in the U.S.

It’s not just about the money that will be raised but about refusing to keep these conversations in the dark. It’s about saying, out loud, that the mental health of our kids matters, that addiction is not a moral failure, and that families deserve support, not stigma.

Hiking and running have always been brutally honest activities for me. I can’t fake my way through it. At some point, my legs get tired, my knees hurt, and I can’t breathe. I’m also ever so slightly afraid on the trails around here... because, bears. The only thing I can do on a long hike is put one foot in front of the other and keep going.

Parenting through hard things feels a lot like that. There are moments when you want to stop. Moments when the trail feels impossibly long. Moments when you wonder if anything you’re doing matters. But you keep going anyway, putting one foot in front of the other, because you love your kids.

So this summer I’ll be out there, thinking about the young people and families who are also carrying the weight of these struggles. If you’d like to support the run, you can sponsor a mile, sponsor the whole race, or simply share the effort with someone who cares about these issues too.

Every bit of support helps. My hope is that I can raise more money this way than I could give on my own. At the end of the day, we’re all in this together. More details about the run and how to contribute will be coming soon.

Read more on Adrienne's Heavy Petal Substack