I never was a runner

Because I inherited an athletic build, everyone assumed I was into sports. But I couldn't run more than a couple hundred feet before my lungs and brain felt like they were on fire.

I loved moving and getting outside, but for some reason any serious exercise sent my heart racing so fast I felt panicky and uncoordinated. It bothered me but I had no idea what to do about it, so I threw myself into books instead of sports.

Then the panic attacks started hitting even when I wasn't exercising - so bad I would collapse on my floor convulsing like a bug dying. No one had answers. Desperate, I began studying everything I could about my brain and nervous system. Gradually, I realized what I had was not an illness but an injury. My survival response had been chronically activated over decades and my body was in a constant state of fight, flight or freeze.

Gradually, I understood that this constant survival state had put my brain on a hair trigger. Every time my heart rate increased, my brain thought I was about to die. I needed to train my brain how to stay calm when my heart rate started going up - and running was a powerful way to do that. So I dug in.

The first quarter mile was torture. And that quarter mile was all I could do for a long time. But I kept plugging away at it, day after day, and gradually that quarter mile turned into a half mile and then a mile. I attacked it like a science project and began devouring the latest studies out of the world of elite athletics and human performance, looking for clues on how to hack a panicking brain and shift out of survival mode.

Because the truth was, I didn’t just want to run - I wanted to fly.

And now, five miles into a trail loop that winds over a rock bed next to the American River, that’s how I feel.

These days, my morning run and meditation is always the highlight of my day. Once I find that deep foundation within, get into the rhythms around me and hit that sweet spot of forward momentum, I feel like I could keep going forever.

So I hope the lessons I share here can help you learn to fly both on the trail and off.

In resilience,
Caitlin