In February this year, on one of We Run Nairobi’s 6 a.m. group runs, I met another runner who told me she runs without music to commune with her thoughts while building mental fortitude.
After dragging my eyebrows back down from my hairline, I told her I cannot run without music because the idea of running anything longer than a 5K in silence sounds worse than spending an entire day in meetings that could have been an email.
It was a joke. But it was also not a joke because my mind is both my greatest ally and my greatest adversary, so running with nothing but my own thoughts for company could be an exercise in mindfulness or a dumpster fire, depending on the day.
This got me thinking: what are we running from, and what are we running to?
It is an interesting question because running is, literally and metaphorically, an act of moving away from something. It could be from the starting line as you chase a personal best, from the office where you are overworked and underpaid, or from the house you feel trapped in.
And running is hardly the only way we do this. We run from difficult conversations by avoiding them. From failure by never trying. From ourselves through alcohol, drugs, food, sex, social media or endless scrolling. We all, in one way or another, run from something.
But at what point does running from become running to? To routine, community, confidence, a healthier body, a version of yourself you have not met yet.
Run clubs have helped create a growing culture around running in Nairobi, while this year’s Standard Chartered Nairobi Marathon sold out approximately 100 days before the October 25 event. But is every runner you know (and at this point it feels like everyone either runs or knows someone who runs) running from or running to something?
It would be so easy to say, “Running from, bad. Running to, good.” But it is not that simple because running from is not necessarily a bad thing. You might run because you are grieving. Or because work is overwhelming. You might run because you need somewhere to put your anger. Or because for an hour nobody needs anything from you.
I returned to outdoor running in August 2025, after swapping the pavement for the gym in 2019, where I still run on the treadmill. The easy answer to why I picked up outdoor running shortly after my 38th birthday is that I used to enjoy it and, as I approach my forties, I want to bring back the parts of my life – and myself – that brought me joy.
The honest answer is that I have had more than my fair share of low moments in life, but the last 11 days of June 2025 shattered my previous benchmark for low moments, raising the bar to new heights. And no moment was as low as the one that had my sister rushing me to four hospitals in 48 hours.
The first hospital turned us away as they were not equipped to handle mental health cases. I have no memory of being there. My memory of the second hospital is fragmented, and care was limited. Thirty-six hours after those two hospital visits, my sister received a call from HR as she was listed as my emergency contact at work. That prompted a visit to the third hospital, where we met with my GP. She insisted on an MRI, which was done at the fourth hospital.
I spent the second half of 2025 picking up the pieces of the mess I had made of my life over the span of 1 ½ years. One way I did that was by taking my journey towards mental fitness as seriously as a world-class athlete takes their physical fitness. Enter running.
I started running from the ghosts of my past still present and living rent free in my head. Now I run because I love it and because, in what came as a most welcome surprise, I am good at it. I run because I love the community I have built for myself after months of Saturday 6 a.m. runs with We Run Nairobi. Running found me when I needed it most, and now it is one of the most rewarding things in my life. I am currently incapable of shutting up about running. Just ask my Instagram algorithm.
Running from something can be a coping mechanism, while running to something can be a form of agency. And sometimes the very same run can be both because the things we use to escape can also be the things that help us cope. Sometimes getting out of the house, or your head, and putting one foot in front of the other for however many kilometres is the healthier response to a terrible day. Sometimes, running from is exactly what keeps us going.
For how long though? Knowing what we are running from can be the beginning of change, but awareness alone cannot carry us all the way there. At some point, we have to start putting one foot in front of the other towards something, too. And what better time to stop running long enough to find out what you are running from than on World Mental Health Day?