I have so many different accounts on so many social media variations that I’ve probably argued with myself on several occasions. And lost.

My screen names probably don’t deviate much from my best friend’s nickname for me in college. I had everything from a Xanga site to an Imgur handle. I joined Reddit a few years ago after glancing over an ex-girlfriend’s shoulder and laughing my ass off and occasionally going “awwwwwwwww.” So I signed up. And just like Rule 34 (DON’T Google that, BTW), there’s a subreddit for just about anything. I won’t divulge many of my subscriptions here, but there’s a subreddit I found not long after I started running. EOOD stands for “Exercise Out of Depression.” Say what you will about some of the more toxic subreddits, and you’re probably right, but the good ones have fiercely active communities that support one another in whatever passion inspired the internet community. This is one of the good ones. Some days, a member has to be helped back up, other days, they’re celebrating someone’s tremendous accomplishment. They’re some of the best supporters you’ll never meet.

Things have been absolute turmoil in my life lately. I’m moving back to Illinois in a few days to gather whatever pieces haven’t broken yet. Whenever a trauma occurs, or someone experiences a tragedy, the first recommendation is to rally your support group. It’s great when you can be in physical proximity, but that’s not always possible. I hate the idea of a safe space, but some of these subreddits can be great for talking out a problem or supporting an internet brother. That’s what I’m doing. I’m retreating.

When I first started running, I did it to get in shape and get a new girl, because I thought that was what you do to get over a breakup. I came to my senses about that, but the running helped me feel better and the exercise did more than just help my body. My mind settled a bit, I was better at my job, and I was able to work out a lot of problems by, well, working out. That’s E.O.O.D. I don’t know if you ever “get better” from depression. Given my current state of mind, I hope it exists. But a little exercise can be a catalyst. I worked second shift (3pm to 1130pm, for accuracy’s sake), and had plenty of time to wake up and get a few miles in before pounding out 8 hours of bottling line work. And you know what? My run was the most taxing part of the day. A walk across a warehouse felt much more manageable knowing I had run 4 miles that morning. Newfound zen, my boss called it once. Perhaps it was the day’s accomplishment, or letting the anxious jitters wear off, but after those initial runner’s highs, that which did not matter could truly slide.

Three years later, and maybe I don’t get that rush I did after those morning runs, but running still gives me a chance to leave a little of the day on the road or trail. It can’t replace therapy or medications, but it’s good for the body and yields some interesting experiences.

I’ve been fighting my own head for years, but this fight’s hard. To make matters worse, I really have no idea what I will be doing a few months from now. I can only call on what I have. I lose sight of it, but I am forever grateful for the friends I’ve met through running. I do truly have one hell of a support system. One of my least favorite wrestlers said in a famous promo, “any man with two hands has a fighting chance.” It’s cheesy as fuck, but that chinless bastard made a point. I concede that I can’t do it alone. That’s why I occasionally break routine and run with friends, and that’s why I’m going back to where it all began.

Thanks for reading. See you at the finish line.