Well, this past week I got a taste of what depression feels like, and amongst other things, it has given me more compassion and understanding for people who have talked to me about it in the past. While I could conceptualize what they were saying (about finding it hard to get out of bed, struggling to feel any kind of hope for the future), it was hard to actually imagine what that felt like.

Last week though, coming off the high of New York, feeling that there was momentum building within the work that I do, and being excited for next fall with my role as Sustainability Director for the World Athletics Road Running Championships (which yes, is a race anyone can sign up for), I felt good.

And then Tuesday happened. Suddenly, it felt like all the work, energy, time, money, and heart that my climate allies and I had put in was for nothing. It felt like nothing I could do would ever make any kind of difference, so why bother trying.

Dramatic, yes, but it was my reality.

Of course, it wasn't just about the future of our planet and my role in changing our course, it was utter disbelief about the situation. It was a feeling that if I couldn't even make those around me think differently, how could what I do ever matter.

It absolutely blindsided me, and I could barely function, in a way that, quite frankly, scared me. I don't ever remember feeling that despondent for days on end, unable to do anything other than be as normal as I possibly could around my girls. That said, I let them see my sadness and pain on Wednesday morning, giving them the permission to be devastated without shame at a time when they might feel that their spirit was totally broken.

Thanks to a firm push from a friend on Saturday night, I went out into nature on Sunday, not just outside my door, but to one of my favorite parks here in St. Louis. Not the trails; as much as I fantasize about the days I can get back to long runs on the trails, I'm not there yet; but I did have something to celebrate yesterday: it was my first continuous 30-minute run.

I drove the (what felt indulgent) 15 minutes over to Tower Grove Park, feeling anxious, hoping my foot would handle this next step. When friends used to ask me how they would know they were mostly in the clear with an injury, my response would be, "Eight miles, when you can handle eight miles without any problems, I consider that as being over the injury."

30 minutes is not eight miles, and therefore, the fear, the hesitation, the nerves that I feel before every run are still there, a part of me just wanting the run to be over so I can check the box saying that I made it through without going backwards.

Except on Sunday, while it was a successful milestone (no pain afterwards or today!), it was so much more. I was able to approach my inner child and help her come out of hiding.

It was a gorgeous morning, with big, beautiful trees all around me, close enough for me to graze my hands over them as I ran, the smell of a crisp fall day after a rain, and yes, the stunning colors of the leaves dancing their way down to the ground.

It felt like everyone I passed was eager (or even what felt like strangely excited) to say good morning to me, and I was ready to say it back to them. I could take in more of the intricacies of my surroundings, let nature breathe life back into me.

It didn't matter that from the three-mile inner loop of this park, I could still hear cars on the road around the edge.

It didn't matter that I was running on a human-made surface.

It didn't matter that it was "only" 30 minutes.

It felt magical.

As I ran, the memories of what this park represents came to the forefront of my mind.

It was one of the first places I visited in St. Louis when I moved here (although that morning I left a pan of chickpeas cooking on the stove and my joy in exploring my new city quickly turned to sheer panic and a frantic dash home with Bailey, envisioning my house on fire!), and I have had so many beautiful, rich, community-focused (and environmentally conscious) moments here.

The farmers market we have been to dozens of times, Pride festivals, drag story hours, festivals of nations, Earth Day celebrations, food truck Fridays, all the things that made me feel like I was part of a community who "got" me. Most of what made me slip into feeling like St. Louis was my home is connected to this park. I had even brought my girls here on my birthday, for the one thing I wanted to do, hang out with some century-old trees.

Of course I needed to come here.

THIS was what I needed; this was what I needed to connect back to and be reminded of who stands next to me in bringing about the world I believe deep in my heart it can be.

Nature opened my eyes (of course it did), and the reminder of why it mattered did the rest.

I am still not fully myself; it's not like that one moment flicked a switch, but I feel curiosity starting to enter my heart again, and that's how I know I am on my way.

This week on the Running For Real podcast...

Here's the official description:

As we all know, Tuesday was Election Day in the United States. It’s the foremost thing on many people’s minds, including Tina’s. Rather than a regular interview episode, she’s sharing her feelings and thoughts about it.

None of the other usual sections yet. I will be back with those next week; let's move on to....

There’s an adage a historian once called a law of history, true of every society across the ages. The adage is, only when it is dark enough can you see the stars. I know many people feel like we are entering a dark time, but for the benefit of us all, I hope that is not the case. But here’s the thing, America, if it is, let us fill the sky with the light of a brilliant, brilliant billion of stars.

The light, the light of optimism, of faith, of truth and service.

-Kamala Harris (and the adage she referred to was a Martin Luther King quote).

Thanks to our partner, Precision Fuel & Hydration

Know what else is gonna be tough? Missing out on the California International Marathon, one of my favorite events of the year (and where my PB is from, as well as my first race as a guide), especially as Precision Fuel and Hydration is the nutrition sponsor now (what a perfect match!).

I joined Mario Fraioli; Andy Blow, the founder and CEO of Precision; and CIM race director Scott Abbott for a webinar last month about nutrition, and believe me, it has everything you need to know. It was jam-packed with advice; I learned a lot; and I feel pretty up-to-date with a lot of fueling-related information.

AND

To celebrate that partnership and the quantity of PRs we are gonna see next month with many well-fueled runners, Precision and I are offering a giveaway for one of you to win a $150 Precision Fuel and Hydration gift card. All you have to do is fill out and submit this one-question form:

US and UK only.

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Be kind to one another, yourself, and this beautiful planet of ours.

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