Running and finding a light for ADHD

How a simple sport can make you establish a routine and feel proud of yourself

If you have ADHD like me, you know that daily life can feel like you’re running a marathon with a flat tire—or a severe backache. It means living with a collection of frustrations, reaching the end of the day without accomplishing much. But guess what? I found my unlikely hero in a pair of running shoes. Yes, running—the thing I once associated with gym class torture and awkward high school gym shorts.

Sometime in 2023, I decided to give running a shot. I never imagined myself running, even though I have several friends who are into it. I even thought it was a silly trend for people in their forties looking for a challenge to fuss about. But with blood pressure on the rise and my weight spiraling out of control, not to mention the pains in all parts of my body, I realized I needed something more effective for cardio. That’s when I started to consider running.

So, I grabbed a pair of sneakers that definitely looked like they’d seen better days—the only ones I had available, bought six years ago. I ventured out, nervously eyeing the pavement as if it were an enemy combatant. I started slow, mixing walks with short sprints. My goal was to run every three days. I dragged myself out there, and while it felt strange, something magical happened: I didn’t die. I didn’t even throw up. I just kept running.

As you can imagine, for someone with ADHD, I soon fell into an erratic routine, skipping my three-day schedule more often and ‘forgetting’ my running sessions for weeks. But somehow, I managed to maintain some semblance of regularity. Then, in May of this year, I decided I needed something more serious.

I made a commitment to myself: I would make running my flagship activity to prove I could overcome my ADHD and be effective at something. At the doors of 45 years old, I felt that maintaining regular physical exercise would be a gift to myself and a showcase for my life in general.

So, I now planned to run every two days. I allowed myself the occasional excuse if I missed the second day due to extraordinary reasons like poor sleep or extreme weather, but I aimed to avoid that as much as possible.

Since May 7, three months ago, I’ve only occasionally skipped the second day a couple of times. I’m nearing 100 days of a consistent exercise routine. For someone with ADHD, this is a real accomplishment, especially because I’m handling everything on my own. And I haven’t told anyone—until now!

What makes me even happier is that I’m currently on a streak of running every two days for a whopping 14 sessions. That’s right, folks, 14 days of me out there, striding like a gazelle for something between 2.8 and 3.2 miles. Or at least, that’s how I like to think of it. In reality, I probably look more like a caffeinated penguin, but hey, progress is progress.

The most interesting thing is that running hasn’t just been a workout. It’s been a metaphorical slap in the face of self-doubt. Each stride is a “Hey, look at me! I’m not just a bundle of chaos!” It’s like my self-image projected somewhere, saying, “You got this!” Given my history of endless dysfunction when it comes to action, it feels incredible to accomplish something.

It also feels great to look at my data and see a beautiful record of accomplished sessions—a testament to respecting my body, soul, and mind. Seeing the graphs is extremely satisfying; now, I go to my sessions without overthinking it. I’ve managed to automate the activity and no longer need to question if I’m okay to go. I just go.

Every time I lace up my sneakers, I’m reminded that if I can convince my ADHD brain to run a couple of miles, I can tackle anything from laundry to writing that long-overdue report. That’s exactly where I wanted to be. My goal is to translate the success I’m experiencing with running into other aspects of my life and tasks.

Yes, running is exhausting. I can barely remember my name for a couple of minutes after running 3 miles in 30 minutes. But it has led me to two profound realizations: the gratitude for completing a session, as I look at the sky and trees and give thanks for nature, health, the run, my brain, my family, my attitude, an so on. And the other perception is the understanding that important things in life come with effort. Not that I needed to be told, but feeling it in my body—completely drained and in pain—is another level.

The body is a good teacher. Nothing like a bit of pain to teach us some life lessons.

So, what’s next? Well, I can’t take this for granted, as I know my talent for skipping commitments and breaking routines. I need to stay focused, resilient, and motivated to keep this going. These three months need to be incorporated into my future years. Simultaneously, I aim to apply these methods to the long list of tasks I’ve been avoiding. The idea is to tackle this list with similar enthusiasm. I’m still figuring out how, but now I have an inspiration to follow through—something I’ve built with my own effort.

By all means, running has taught me that I’m capable of more than I thought. It’s been a surprising ally in my battle with ADHD, showing that even on days when motivation seems as elusive as a unicorn, small steps can lead to big wins. So, if you’re struggling with ADHD symptoms or just need a push, try some sport or activity you’ve never considered and give it a chance. For me, those old running shoes became a faithful companion.

The final message is that you too can find your own personal motivator and get moving. It would be great if it’s a sport, but it can be anything different from your usual routine. Who knows? You might have a wonderful surprise and an evidence that you can have ADHD and still being able to build a routine and achieve your goals.