Running for my mental health

I hadn’t run, or attempted to run, for many years when I was prompted by some posts from Amanda Newman in 'The Career Mum' Facebook group to try the Couch to 5k program in August 2022. Just over two years later, on Sunday 20 October 2024, I completed my longest-ever run, 10 miles, as part of the Yorkshire Marathon Festival in York. The benefits to my mental health have been significant, so I signed up for the Leeds Marathon in May 2025 to keep me motivated over the coming winter!

Couch to 5k

Back in August 2022, it was a couple of months after losing my sister-in-law to cancer, and 5 months since starting a new part-time job, both of which had contributed to some weight gain, and I wanted to lose a bit of weight and feel fitter. I got to week 7 in the 9-week NHS ‘couch to 5k’ program, I then gave up as the weather turned and my mental health dipped end of September/early October.

In April 2023, I decided to return to the Couch to 5k program. This time, I found the app, and Sarah Millican’s voice has been accompanying me on most of my runs since then. I completed the program this time in June 2023.

Onwards to 10k – the need for a challenge and a goal

After completing the Couch to 5k program, I struggled to get going with running again, so I decided to set myself a challenge and signed up for the Morley 10k race in early October. I trained well for that, running three times per week increasing my running time by 5 minutes each week and building up to running around 9km before the race.

I completed that race in 64 minutes, which I was chuffed with! I was so tired by the end, and so many people were out supporting the runners, that I didn't spot my family cheering me on near the finish line. I loved the atmosphere of the race, although I was nervous beforehand, not knowing what to expect. I fundraised for a couple of not-for-profit organisations and got a lot of satisfaction from the race from a physical and mental health perspective.

The hard stop – damaging to my mental health

I carried on running for a few weeks after the race, but prior to the race, I was already struggling with a mental health dip. That was largely precipitated by my daughter’s start to mainstream secondary school going so wrong so quickly. As the weather got colder and wetter, and the daylight opportunities to run much less, I gave up running at the end of October, just as we deregistered her and she started at an online school.

Stopping running was a mistake, exacerbating the depression that had already taken hold. I didn’t return to running at all until the New Year. I had a brief boost to my mood after the Christmas holidays and went for a run in the afternoon after my first day back at work. It felt good to get back out there and I was pleased to find I could still run 5k, albeit not very quickly or easily. However, working most daylight hours and taking my son to and from school each day took up most of my available time so I only managed one run per week, at the weekend, throughout January.

Rediscovering the running bug

In early February, I reached a mental health crisis point and was eventually persuaded by my husband and therapist that something had to give, I couldn’t keep on pushing through and expect things to change if I didn’t change anything. I couldn’t drop anything at home and had been experiencing some issues at work that were contributing to my poor mental health.

I had three weeks off work altogether, and in that time, I spent a lot of time resting, sitting and doing my cross-stitch embroidery, talking to my mum regularly on the phone, looking after the family’s basic needs and I returned to running 3 times per week. I decided to avoid trying to increase distance, which took up more time that I didn’t feel I could reliably commit to, and I focused instead on running regularly for 30 minutes, and trying to gradually increase my speed and/or set records for segments of my training run using the Strava app.

Soon after returning to work, I agreed to reduce my hours on a longer-term basis, to help me better manage my mental health and reduce some of the anxieties that had developed concerning work. This meant that I had afternoons off, which gave me a few hours in the afternoon to myself when my son was at school and my daughter was usually in online lessons.

This new routine worked well until mid-May when my son’s schooling collapsed after a rapid deterioration since Easter. What started as me agreeing to bring him home for lunchtime each day and for one afternoon a week to avoid an external PE provider, soon escalated following the departure of a trusted learning mentor, to him being temporarily excluded just before the May half term. He has not been in school full-time since then. Despite ongoing disruptions to his education, I managed to continue running 3 times per week, and for a long time, I stuck to the 30-minute limit each time.

Discovering an analogy for managing my mental health

Concentrating on my body and what was happening when I was running helped with my running training and helped me think more positively about how I could manage my mental health. The couch to 5k program is based on building up running time, with walking intervals in between that are gradually reduced over the course of the program. I noticed when running how varying my speed and effort impacted my overall performance and how comfortable I felt.

I managed to separate my stride pattern from my breathing pattern to increase speed without necessarily increasing my breathing rate to uncomfortable levels. I noticed how I could alter my stride length to even out my pace over downhill and uphill sections. I thought - why don’t I just apply this analogy to managing my energy levels and mental health?

I had been striving for several years to even out the extremes of what I now knew were my depressed and hypomanic phases of bipolar, largely without success. Now, I felt like I had something tangible I could focus on – reducing my activity levels moderately, like easing back the pace when running, could be beneficial in keeping me on track without spirally up into hypomania and then burning out. Similarly, knowing when I needed to inject some pace to keep momentum, or to rebuild it after an uphill climb, for example, could be translated to thinking about what I needed to do activity and connection-wise to maintain a satisfactory level of mental health without slipping inevitably into a depressed spiral.

Putting the theory into practice

Around June when things were very tricky with my son’s education, and I was starting to experience some hypomania symptoms, having only recently come completely out of the depressed/anxious phase, I decided to sign up for the Leeds Running Festival 10k in August. Soon after I thought I would need a further challenge to keep me running and to enable me to fundraise again, so I signed up for the Yorkshire Marathon Festival 10-mile race in York, on Sunday 20 October. These gave me a focus for training, ensuring I maintained my routine, and helping me to manage the borderline hypomanic phase.

My fundraising activities were limited in late July when I had some worrying health news that temporarily threatened my ability to participate in either race. We had a lovely sunny holiday (timed perfectly for the UK mini heatwave!) in Swanage despite the background worries of cancer screening and my son’s education. I kept running and walking – drinking in the views and the dramatic light from early morning excursions alone or with my husband. My son struggled a lot on this holiday, the anxiety about his school situation only left him once during the entire summer holiday.

Fortunately, the main cervical cancer check came back clear just after our return from holiday, and I could focus on the running training again. I felt very capable going into the 10k in August, having run 10k during training already. I secured a strong improvement on my 10k race best with a time of 55 minutes and 55 seconds.

I had established and tested the theory that an upcoming tangible goal to achieve was essential to keep going with training when plans went awry. Simply knowing it benefits my mental and physical health doesn’t seem to be sufficient motivation.

Enforced rest - handling a fall and foot injury

My training continued, increasing distance with one longer run each week and two shorter faster runs. However, a fall whilst on a training run on 22 September, 4 weeks before the 10-mile race, caused superficial grazing to my cheek, shoulder, knee and hand but more concerningly I had strained my right foot, the extent of which I didn’t realise until a few days later. This meant I had a worrying time leading up to the 10-mile race, not knowing if I could continue training to build up to that significant increase in distance from the 10k or compete in the race. What had seemed challenging but achievable, suddenly started to seem harder to accomplish.

Knowing how much running benefits my mental and physical health this injury also caused some significant anxiety about being able to maintain those through what is typically a tricky period for me in late September and October. Despite this, I knew that pushing my body specifically my right foot beyond its limits would be counterintuitive. Continuing to push on regardless was impossible to begin with, I was in a lot of discomfort and hobbling around after just a short 20-minute gentle jog a few days after the fall. I took a break from running training for nearly two weeks to allow the injury to heal.

I rested, iced and elevated my foot and this enforced rest period happened to coincide with another challenging period mentally, this time my son’s transition to a temporary alternative provision placement collapsed. The amount of effort that I had put into making that placement work over the period from mid-July through to mid-September felt like a wasted effort, I was angry and upset with how we had been treated, exhausted mentally and physically from many nights of disturbed sleep with my son struggling mental health wise and my daughter experiencing physical health challenges. The enforced physical rest prompted by the injury allowed me to rest mentally, to acknowledge that I had no more to give at that point, and needed to recuperate.

Before this, whilst running training I had some insight into what happened in previous years when I became burnt out and then depressed. Feeling harassed and irritable, like I never had any time to myself, I was running one morning, and it suddenly occurred to me that the only time I get left alone is when I’m depressed. I withdraw and lose connections, even to my immediate family, and spend a lot of time on my own, usually worrying about various things without any specific purpose, but seemingly helpless to do anything I might enjoy or find purpose in. During these periods, which can last for several months, I stop communicating verbally and in writing, unless it’s for something essential or routine.

I discussed with my therapist a thought that depression had become my default enforced rest period that my body and mind needed – the safe mode that I have described it as before. Kind of a hibernation mode, whereby I can function on a basic level, but I don’t get drawn into other things. I retreat and others know I can’t be reached for a time until I start to come out of the depressed period. I knew that finding a way to rest more, before severe burnout, could be a more effective means of keeping the depression at bay in the future.

Achieving my running goal – a 10-mile race

After the short break for injury and physical and mental recuperation, I resumed training two weeks before the race. I ran 8.5 miles in training during the first week after the break – my longest run to date. However, the next week just before the race was tricky as my foot was certainly not fully healed; I was starting to experience twinges elsewhere from areas linked and over-compensating as I subconsciously must have been protecting my foot.

I was determined to at least attempt the race, so long as my foot wasn’t painful on the day itself which meant more resting and less training than I would have liked. Remembering back to when I ran my first 10k the year before, I took solace in knowing that I hadn’t run that distance before race day, but still managed it.

The weather forecast for Sunday 20 October was awful – strong winds and rain, not ideal running companions! It meant that only my husband accompanied me to drop me off and attempt to watch some of the race. This took the pressure off, and I thought I would just give it a go and could stop if the foot became painful.

As it turned out, the weather whilst not great, was not as bad as forecast and fortunately, York being York, the course was flat and was well organised and marshalled. My foot felt ok, but I felt quite emotional still as I passed my husband in front of York minster, just under 2 miles into the race. I knew I had a good chance of achieving my goal.

The rest of the race was uneventful – the rain came down between miles 2 and 5, and standing water underfoot made me wish I had invested in some Gore-Tex running shoes before now. But I kept going and my Strava app prompts confirmed that I was keeping up a good pace, faster than my usual training runs recently. On the last few miles, we ran through villages and residents were standing with trays of sweets for runners to grab as they passed. I gratefully grabbed a few jelly babies and continued. By the last couple of miles, my foot was feeling ok, but my knees and hips were starting to stiffen up and it became a battle of will again just keep going. My pace slowed the last mile, especially as there was a longer uphill stretch, but I didn’t have to stop fortunately as I may not have been able to get going again.

I crossed the finish line in 1 hour and 34 minutes, relieved and tired, but very happy to have accomplished the goal I set for myself. I turned my music off and looked around for my husband, hearing my name and looking up to see him standing on a bridge just beyond the finish line, I smiled and waved. The sense of achievement, and some considerable relief, at having achieved my goal and completed the race washed over me, flooding my mind and body with happy hormones.

What next? A winter to get through and a marathon in the distance

Before the race, I had decided I would take a two-week break afterwards to try to let my foot heal more fully. We had a busy couple of weeks ahead, and other physical activity would be part of that. Making this proactive decision feels like a positive step for managing my mental and physical health. We’re nearly at the end of those two weeks now, and my foot is feeling ok, with some walking in the last few days testing it out again. I am keeping my fingers crossed that I can resume gentle running training next week.

Mental health-wise I have enjoyed my husband’s and my birthdays in late October for the first time in many years without being depressed. This is something of a novelty and very welcome. The impact on my husband and my children in my depressed periods is something that weighs heavily on my mind. Living with someone who is depressed and disengaged from life and your relationship is not easy. It’s not easy being depressed of course, and I hate those periods. Having bipolar and the sharp contrast between low and high moods makes this even more challenging. I aim to achieve more balance and less sharp ups and downs, though I accept I will always have steeper ups and downs than most people.

Our local running club, Drighlington Dynamos, was only established a few years ago, but has gone from strength to strength and has recently won club of the year from England Athletics. I am hoping to join the club and get some expert guidance on what I need to do to make that leap from 10 miles to a marathon distance. The Leeds Marathon is on 11 May 2025, so I have time to build up. Whether my body can keep going physically and mentally is another question, but I hope my experiences and knowledge gained over the last two years will stand me in good stead.

A note about the author

I am Joanne (Jo) Feaster, a late-identified autistic and bipolar woman. I started self-identifying as autistic in May 2023 and was diagnosed with bipolar type 2 in July 2023. I am married and live in Leeds with my husband John, and my two amazing children, both of whom have been diagnosed in late 2023 and early 2024 as autistic and ADHD. I have worked part-time for the last decade since becoming a parent, most recently as an Office Manager, but now venturing out looking for freelance research and administration roles that can be completed remotely.

I write to aid my mental health and to share my lived experiences as an autistic and bipolar woman, and parent carer of my neurodivergent children. I subscribe to the social model of disability and the neurodiversity paradigm. I see our strengths, positive qualities, and spiky profiles, just as much as I recognise the barriers we face from society.