Running as Emotional Regulation: How I Stay Grounded When My Brain Spirals

Sarah Scritch
Dec 29, 2025
3 min read

Updated: Jan 6

There’s this idea that thought leadership means being an expert with a podium. But sometimes, thought leadership looks like living the hard stuff, figuring out what works, and being brave enough to say it out loud.

For me, a woman roughly a decade into a diagnosis of ADHD and Bipolar II in my late 20s/early 30s, running became that truth.

Not for fitness.

Not for aesthetics.

For emotional regulation.

For survival.

When the Gym Felt Impossible

Depression can pull you down so hard you start to believe gravity has a personal vendetta. For years, even walking into a gym felt impossible. Too bright, too crowded, too…much.

When my anxiety spikes and sleep disappears, paranoia creeps in. People feel closer than they are. Public spaces turn into landmines. So, the gym was a no-go.

But I still needed something.

Something without fluorescent lights.

Something without bodies pressed too close.

Something that didn’t make me feel trapped.

That something ended up being running. Almost by accident.

One particularly low evening, I got home from work and asked myself the smallest questions possible:

Can I put my shoes on?

Yes.

Can I walk out the door and just see what happens?

Also yes.

That “yes” became the first of many.

Running Became Discipline… and Release

I didn’t expect running to become a mental battleground, in a good way. The moment when everything burns and your brain starts bargaining? That became intoxicating.

Not the pain, the discipline.

The proof that my mind could push through when my moods wanted to take over.

I learned I’m my own best motivator and my fiercest competitor.

And now, well over a decade in, I’ve had to learn the opposite skill too:

Don’t be an idiot.

Don’t overtrain.

Don’t injure yourself because hypomania says, “One more mile.”

That balance of push, but don’t break, mirrors how I manage my mood states every single day.

Running Through Mood Swings

Mixed state? Running steadies me.

Hypomanic restlessness? Running brings a moment of stillness.

Brain-fog depression? Running can offer a brief beacon of hope.

Cycling anxiety? A hard run forces my brain to focus solely on efficient, rhythmic breathing.

Running gives me something solid to anchor to when my emotions feel like they’re running the show. The percussion of breath, the rhythm of my feet, the right song hitting at exactly the right moment. It creates a strange, beautiful clarity.

I don’t always have the words to explain how I’m feeling, but I can always build a playlist that does the talking. My feet move with the beat, my head sings along, and for those miles, I feel understood.

The Runner’s High Is Emotional Regulation

Everyone talks about endorphins, but for me? The runner’s high is freedom.

Freedom from thought loops.

Freedom from doubt.

Freedom from the emotional weight of ADHD and Bipolar II.

For those moments, I’m present. Grounded. Actually safe inside my own body.

Running burns off agitation I can’t name. It forces breathwork—one of the most underrated emotional regulation tools there is. And when the music syncs with my stride? That’s the closest thing I have to meditation.

For once, I’m not hyper-monitoring my emotions. I know they’re regulating themselves. I can just be in the moment, in it, instead of clawing my way back to it.