Running wasn’t always my thing. Growing up, my family and I would watch our running-obsessed neighbors jog up and down our dead-end street while we stayed cozy inside, drowning in waffles and movie marathons. Fast forward to today, and I’m the one pounding pavement—rain or shine, stress or celebration. Running has become my go-to coping mechanism for adulthood’s chaos: job changes, heartbreaks, even the occasional existential crisis. But this year, the holidays are throwing a curveball. For the first time in ages, I won’t be with my 94-year-old grandma for Thanksgiving, and my usual festive traditions—like trail walks with my aunts and uncles—are on hold. Christmas? Still up in the air. So, how does a runner adapt when the usual rhythms of life get disrupted?
Running as an Anchor in Uncertain Times
When everything else feels shaky, running has been my constant. It’s not just about fitness; it’s about control. When jobs vanish or relationships crumble, lacing up my shoes gives me a sense of agency. There’s something deeply therapeutic about the rhythm of footsteps hitting pavement—no overthinking, just moving forward. But this year, with holiday plans unraveling, that routine feels more crucial than ever. Without the usual family gatherings, my runs have become my holiday tradition. Instead of crowded airports or chaotic kitchens, I’m logging miles in the quiet of early mornings, letting the crisp air clear my head. It’s not the same, but it’s something.
The Mental Health Boost You Didn’t Know You Needed
Running isn’t just a physical release; it’s a mental reset. Studies show that aerobic exercise can reduce anxiety and depression, and anyone who’s pushed through a tough run knows the post-workout high is real. For me, it’s like hitting a reset button on my mood. When holiday stress starts creeping in—loneliness, financial pressure, or just the general weirdness of 2023—a run helps me shake it off. Even a short jog can shift my perspective, turning a gloomy day into something manageable. And let’s be honest, after months of uncertainty, we could all use a little extra serotonin.
Adapting Traditions When Life Throws a Curveball
This year, instead of my grandma’s famous pumpkin pie, I’m making my own (probably lopsided) version. Instead of group trail walks, I’m exploring new routes solo. It’s not perfect, but it’s progress. Running has taught me to roll with the punches—sometimes literally, when I trip on uneven sidewalks. The point is, traditions can evolve. Maybe your holiday looks like a Zoom call with relatives or a quiet night with takeout. Maybe it’s a long run under twinkling Christmas lights. Whatever it is, give yourself permission to redefine what “normal” means this year.
Finding Connection in the Miles
One silver lining of this weird year? Virtual running communities have exploded. Strava challenges, online races, and even Instagram running clubs have made it easier to feel connected while staying distant. I’ve joined a few holiday-themed virtual races, and knowing others are out there logging miles too makes the solo runs feel less lonely. Plus, there’s something oddly bonding about complaining about icy paths or sharing post-run selfies with frosty eyebrows. If you’re missing your usual crew, hop online. There’s a whole world of runners who get it.
When the Weather (or Life) Gets Rough
pushing through the tough runs makes the good ones sweeter. Same goes for life. This holiday season might not be what we envisioned, but showing up for ourselves—whether that’s a run, a walk, or just getting out of bed—is worth celebrating. Layer up, take it slow, and remember: every step counts, even if it’s just around the block.
This year’s holidays might not include my grandma’s hugs or my family’s chaotic gift exchanges, but they’ll still have running—my weird, wonderful constant. And who knows? Maybe I’ll start a new tradition: a solo sunrise run on Christmas morning, followed by pancakes and a movie. After all, if 2023 has taught me anything, it’s that resilience isn’t about sticking to the plan—it’s about finding joy in the detours. So here’s to lopsided pies, frosty runs, and whatever makeshift celebrations get us through. Keep moving forward, one step at a time.
