💛 Something I haven’t said out loud yet

I thought running again would fix all my problems. It didn’t.

I started running seven years ago during one of the loneliest periods of my life. I had gone from being an up-and-coming TV news anchor/reporter in New York City to an anonymous full-time mom in Madrid.

I had two small children and a husband who traveled frequently. I had left my career, my friends and my support system behind. You’d think caring for two little boys would leave no room for loneliness, but somehow, it made the loneliness feel even louder.

Eventually, I fell into a deep depression.

When the boys started daycare, I began running. It gave me somewhere to put the thoughts that were consuming me. With every mile, I started feeling like myself again.

That same year, we moved back to New York. I reconnected with friends, built a community through my children’s school and started running three marathons a year.

Life wasn’t just good. It was AMAZING.

Then everything changed again.

We moved back to Spain, completely against my wishes, and I finally had the knee surgeries I had postponed for too long.

I didn’t know how dark depression could become until I was lying in bed in Madrid, unable to move. The one thing that had held me together for years was suddenly gone. Between two surgeries and two long recoveries, running disappeared from my life on and off for almost two years.

My surgeon encouraged me to seek help, but I kept telling myself:

“Once I can run again, everything will be fine.“

Meanwhile, other parts of my life were unraveling. People stopped following me because I was no longer in New York. Brands moved on because I was injured. My manager dropped me because she couldn’t figure out how to pitch my move, my surgeries or my new reality.

By the time I finally sought treatment from a psychiatrist for clinical depression, I had waited far too long.

I won’t share every detail out of respect for my family, but the experience changed me. It’s also why I created a private community for runners navigating injuries, surgeries and setbacks while trying to find their way back to training and racing.

Most members join because they want to train smarter. But when I ask why they stay, they almost always say the same thing:

The people.

They stay because they feel understood without having to explain so much. Because healing is easier when you’re surrounded by people who truly get it.

Now I’m training again. Not the way I used to and that makes this comeback both more challenging and more meaningful.

I am happier. But running didn’t magically brighten every corner of my life. Losing it simply exposed everything I had been hiding underneath it.

And that is what I’m still working through.

What I’ve Learned

• Running can support your mental health, but it shouldn’t have to carry all of it. We need other tools, people and sources of purpose too.
• Don’t wait until you’re at your breaking point to ask for help. Therapy, medication and professional support are not signs of weakness.
• An injury affects more than your body. It can disrupt your identity, confidence, routine, relationships and sense of belonging.
• Build your support system before you desperately need it. Community cannot replace professional help, but it can make the hardest seasons feel less lonely.
• Your comeback won’t fix everything and that’s okay. Sometimes returning to running gives you the strength to face what running once helped you avoid.
• You are still a runner when you cannot run. Your pace, mileage and race calendar were never the full story of who you are.

If this story felt familiar, you don’t have to navigate your comeback alone.

Join the CRC Marathon Lab, a private community for runners rebuilding after injuries, surgeries and life setbacks. Once the waitlist reaches 100 runners, I’ll reopen the doors, and everyone on the list will be the first to know.

Join the WhatsApp waitlist here → [LINK]