Running and Mental Health — Does Running Help?

Let’s talk about the times it doesn’t. What then? A theory and some inspiration.

(For Runner’s Life on Medium)

The positive effect of exercise on mental health has been well-established in the scientific literature, with statements like “exercise has a large and significant antidepressant effect” (Schuch et al., 2016). As a runner, I wholly agree that exercise is a good mood booster, but it’s always easier to remember the times running helped my mood than the times I came back, untied my shoes, and still felt “meh.”

This begs the question as to how much running really helps you chase the blues away, or better yet, leave them in the dust. Why does running off a bad mood sometimes work and sometimes not? I have a theory, adapted from the age-old adage: slow and steady wins the mood, especially when the mood has been low for days or even weeks. Put another way, having long bouts of meh-ness requires long runs to shake it out.

Take, for example, the COVID-19 pandemic. It changed a lot of things, obviously. For one, it gave us all a distinct taste of prolonged stress. When stress is prolonged, it leads to mushy brain, which can lead to feeling fuzzy (e.g., being forgetful) and unmotivated. Not only does a lack of motivation affect the likelihood of going out for a run, but the stress can be so deep in there from, say, pandemic news, that running won’t get it out.

Cumulative stress, as is the case for anyone living through the COVID-19 pandemic even as we come out the other side, is a risk factor for depression (Krugers et al., 2010). Running can be an antidote for depression, but chronic stress and depression are another matter, where going for yet another run can seem pointless in the grand scheme of things.

A lack of motivation is common among runners, and sometimes it can be overcome. Doing things like scheduling a run, putting running clothes somewhere visible, or lowering expectations for how fast the run will be are all practical strategies to “just do it.” And then there’s the mental strategy of telling yourself, “I don’t feel like it, but I’m going to do it anyway.” Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

From my experience, I see a quick run as great therapy for temporary stress or low mood, but when it’s been going on for a long enough time, that quick 5k can start to lose its antidepressant power.

For example, one time I was so stressed by a chronically anxious mind that when I went for a run to calm down, my goal was to run so hard I couldn’t think about anything besides what I was feeling in my body. It didn’t work so well. The source of my anxiety was too deeply rooted to be scared off by burning legs and lungs. The roots had grown over the course of a year, so while a regular running habit was helpful, trying to run out my anxiety did little to change my mindset.

I assume this is a common experience among elite and recreational runners alike, but I don’t see it talked about much at all. The endorphins of a runner’s high are so sensationalized that it’s easy to think running gives you that “life is good” feeling every time. My point in sharing this is to normalize the times when a run simply doesn’t make you feel better. You’re too sad, too stressed, too anxious for too long for the usual mental benefits of taking yourself on a run to work.

Perhaps those times are indicators that another form of self-care is needed, like calling a friend on a walk (do not underestimate the power of social support) or journaling (writing out your thoughts and feelings is way more powerful than it sounds). There is no simple fix for chronic mental health challenges, and though exercise is glorified for all the physical and mental health benefits it provides (which it does), it’s important to note it isn’t always the answer.

Yet, I still believe running does help a chronically anxious, depressed, or burnt-out mind if you do it slow and long enough.

If anything, my experience has taught me that on those tough mental health days, a long (e.g., 6–10 miles) and slow run is better than a short (e.g., 3 miles) and fast one. If I had to guess why, I’d say it’s because a long run means I’m forced to be with my thoughts more and, in a way, it desensitizes me to them — that is, the ones that are causing me to feel low. So maybe it’s not so much about chasing the blues away as it is running with them. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. That’s not to say that all blue moods can be held so easily, but in not trying to outrun them (literally), there lies an opportunity to take back some power from mental health monsters.

For the record, there is research to support my hypothesis that running longer and slower is better for mood-boosting. A group of researchers showed that as workout duration increases, negative mood decreases (Rocheleau et al., 2004). Specifically, they found that for every half of exercise, negative mood significantly decreased, especially when people perceived lower levels of exertion. In other words, this research suggests that longer bouts of exercise, including running at lower intensities, are more effective for improving mood. Interestingly, women show greater improvement in mood (lower negative mood) post-exercise than men, which may be due to the fact that women tend to report higher levels of depression and anxiety before exercise (Merns, 1995); therefore, women have the most room to benefit. While more research is needed on gender differences in mood post-exercise, these findings suggest that heightened depression and anxiety, as was (and still is) the case with the pandemic, can be attenuated with long and slow runs.

The bottom line is when faced with chronic stress or low mood, a quick run only provides temporary relief, if that boost of endorphins is even reached. Can a high really cancel out a low? Sometimes. But a high can only last for so long. My two cents is that running longer and slower is more conducive to what the mind needs when you’ve been under too much stress or the blues for too long. Those longer runs of just being out there to be out there (not racing around), is where running becomes a state of mindfulness, of getting out of the mind and into the environment. Just as it takes time to build the kind of stress or sadness that feels chronic and overwhelming, it takes time to unwind the brain enough to notice how good it is to simply run.

References

Krugers, H. J., Lucassen, P. J., Karst, H., & Joëls, M. (2010). Chronic stress effects on hippocampal structure and synaptic function: relevance for depression and normalization by anti-glucocorticoid treatment. Frontiers in synaptic neuroscience2, 24. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnsyn.2010.00024

Merns, K. (1995). MOOD AND SELF-ESTEEM ENHANCEMENT IN DIFFERENT EXERCISE MODES. (Ph.D). Yeshiva University.

Rocheleau, C., Webster, G., Bryan, A., & Frazier, J. (2004). Moderators of the relationship between exercise and mood changes: gender, exertion level, and workout duration. Psychology & Health19(4), 491–506. https://doi.org/10.1080/08870440310001613509

Schuch, F. B., Vancampfort, D., Richards, J., Rosenbaum, S., Ward, P. B., & Stubbs, B. (2016). Exercise as a treatment for depression: a meta-analysis adjusting for publication bias. Journal of psychiatric research, 77(0), 42–51. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jpsychires.2016.02.023

Emily Brown
Freelance writer + editor at EVR Creative. Creates change with words because EVRy word matters. Passionate about social entrepreneurship, public health, and connecting people through words to spark social good. Instagram: @evr_creative, @evr_healthy