I Started Running After Loss — Not to Heal, But to Survive
4 May 2026
I didn’t start running for the reasons people usually do
I didn’t start running to lose weight. I didn’t start running to get fit. I didn’t even start running because I liked it.
I started running because I didn’t know what to do with the pain. At that time, my dad was in the hospital. It was the end. And somewhere deep down, I knew it.
Everything felt heavy. I felt lost, demoralized, empty — like there was no solid ground left under my feet.
And one day, without really thinking about it, I went for a run.
When everything feels too much
Grief doesn’t always look like crying. Sometimes, it’s just… numbness. A constant weight in your chest. A mind that won’t stop, or sometimes, won’t feel anything at all.
Before that, I had tried running before. Like many people, I wanted to run to lose weight. And I HATED it. It felt hard, frustrating, almost like punishment. I never stuck with it.
But this time, something was different.
The first runs felt like breathing again
That first run wasn’t impressive. It wasn’t long. It wasn’t fast. But it was the first time in days — maybe weeks — that I felt a little lighter.
For a moment, my mind slowed down. For a moment, I wasn’t stuck in that hospital room. For a moment, I could breathe again.
And that was enough to make me come back to it. Not because I was motivated. Not because I had discipline. But because it truly helped.

I wasn’t running to perform — I was running to escape (and to hold on)
Running became an escape. A way to get out of my head. A way to move the pain instead of holding it all inside.
But it also became something else. A small anchor. Something I could hold on to when everything else felt uncertain.
It’s been six months since my dad passed away. And it’s still hard. There are so many moments I wish I could share with him — even the smallest ones. Especially the small ones.
Every little milestone, every “run” that might seem insignificant to others… I know he would have been proud. He would have seen strength where I only see effort. He would have called me strong, powerful — even when I don’t feel like it.
And somehow, when I run — especially during races — I think about him. About the way he looked at me after my very first 10K. That pride. That quiet admiration. And for a moment, it feels like I’m still running with him.
It didn’t fix the pain — but it softened it
Running didn’t heal my grief. The pain didn’t disappear. It didn’t magically make things okay.
But it gave me something I didn’t have anymore:
- a release
- a moment of calm
- a small sense of control
- a little bit of light in very dark days
It was never about performance. It was about feeling just a tiny bit better.
Even if it only lasted for the duration of a run. That still counted.

If you’re going through something hard
You don’t need to become a runner. You don’t need a big goal. You don’t need to push yourself.
But sometimes, moving your body — even just a little — can help you carry what feels too heavy to hold still.
Not to fix it. Not to erase it. But to create a small space where you can breathe again.
A gentle way to start (if running feels too hard)
If the idea of running feels overwhelming right now, I understand.
That’s exactly why I created something different. Not a plan to make you faster. Not a plan to push your limits. But a gentle way to start — especially when life already feels like too much.
My Gentle Beginner Running Plan is designed to help you:
- clear your mind
- reconnect with your body
- move at your own pace
- and build something small and steady for yourself
You don’t need to be fit. You don’t need to be consistent. You don’t even need to like running. You just need to start — gently.
With a simple run-walk structure, only 3 runs per week, and space to reflect and reconnect with yourself, it’s made for real life. For low-energy days. For messy weeks. For starting again (as many times as you need).
Because some days will feel easier than others. And both count.

You’re not behind. You’re beginning.
If you’re in a dark place right now, you don’t need to find a big solution. You don’t need to fix everything. Maybe you just need one small thing that makes it all feel a tiny bit lighter.
For me, it was running. And it didn’t change everything. But it helped me survive it.


