Is There a Healthy Addiction?

“Is there a healthy addiction?”

I found myself googling this question the other day.  I wanted to know if there was anything a person could be 100% consumed with and it still considered to be a healthy habit.

Reading was on the list. Listening to music. Eating healthy food.  Drinking water. And exercise.

The mental health clinician in me still feels like any one of these things can become a problem if done to excess.  I guess it would look weird, but if I were to need to read so much that I stopped eating or drinking – or I stopped taking care of my kids and their needs putting reading above all else – that would be a problem.  Possibly, an unhealthy addiction.

Since I have an addictive gene, I was wondering this for myself.  Was it possible that I took something “healthy” and made it “unhealthy?”

This question was pushed to the forefront of my attention this morning as I scrolled through social media.  As I clicked on “memories” on Facebook, I harumphed when I saw the image that appeared from five years ago.

Picking up my bib for the Delaware marathon for the following day.

I was reminded that the fall and the spring are tough when it comes to these racing memories.  The Delaware marathon was always on Mother’s Day.  And since I ran it about five times, I am sensing this next week is going to be flooded with images and memories of marathons in years past.

By no means am I saying that marathon running is an unhealthy habit or addiction.  I loved running marathons.  I wish I were in the same physical state I was in this photo and prepping for another marathon tomorrow.  My problem happened with everything else around marathons.

When it came to preparing for these long-distance races, I followed the Hal Higdon training schedule.  If Hal told me to run 3 miles, I ran 3 miles.  If Hal said that I needed to run 17 miles, I ran 17 miles. When Hal told me to rest, I rested. I did very well in my races because of this discipline.

Outside of these training plans, I was a mess.  There were never enough miles.  There were times I was running 80 miles a week.  I never ran less than 50 miles a week, and rest days were abhorred.  At the end of each year, I had accumulated well over 2,500 miles.  I ran through injuries. I ran through pain. In my mind, I just needed to run.

I had lost a lot of weight through diet and exercise.  Unfortunately, I associated my thinner self with exercise only.  If I wanted to stay thin, I needed to run more.

Finally, an injury occurred with a pandemic.  I did not want to pay to be scanned or officially diagnosed a stress fracture in my foot. I knew the outcome either way – stop running, let it heal. We were quarantined anyway, so perfect timing.

I started walking and realized something I could not see before: I had developed an extremely negative relationship with running. I was consumed by it. I took something healthy and made it very unhealthy – for me.

I used to let my work define me.  Transitioning to become a stay-at-home mom was difficult.  Who was I then? I felt like a nobody. When I started running, I became a runner. I became a fairly good runner. THAT was who I was going to be.

An injury and a pandemic later I came to a new reality.  At the core of it all, I do enjoy running.  When my foot began to feel like its old self again, I took it to the trails.  These days I enjoy a five-mile run in the morning while listening to an audiobook.  I’ve let go my inner Gandalf and no longer mentally shout, “You SHALL NOT pass!” to other runners. I get passed all the time. If I feel like walking, I stop and walk.  If a body part barks in pain, I stop. I’m a new me.

Maybe one day I will want to go the distance again and turn to Hal.  I know I’ll be thinking about it as I look at marathon pictures this coming week from marathons ran in years past. I don’t regret a single one and wish I was doing it again. 

Maybe one day. But in the meantime, I’ll stick with healthy exercise habits and be thankful to recognize when something good becomes something bad.