Chasing a fix removes our attention from the problem

​Many years ago, during one of my first attempts to seek counseling, a counselor told me I needed to find healthier habits to replace the destructive ones in my life.

I remember how hopeful that sounded in that moment. This idea that I'd somehow just wandered down the wrong aisle in the habit store in life. That I could now simply take my bad habits back, hand the cashier my receipt, and exchange them for healthier ones. Talk about seeing the light!

So that's what I did. I traded in alcohol and gambling for exercise and school and work and God - all much better habits. People even seemed to like me better when I had those habits.

But there's one thing those "healthier" habits weren't nearly as good at as the "unhealthy" ones. They weren't nearly as good at numbing away the reality of the problems in my life.

And for a really long time, I wanted numbing in my life far more than I wanted healthy.

I've had people ask me about this running journey I'm on. Did you simply trade one addiction for another, they ask.

Early in this journey, the answer to that question might have been yes. I'm not sure. But today I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that running - more than any counselor or any visit to the habit exchange counter - has pointed me to the problems in my life and not to a place to escape them.

More and more, when I step out into this chaotic world, I believe that's what I'm stepping into. A world full of people caught up in a great escape. Human paths crisscrossing in a frantic chase for solutions - the ultimate fix - only to have those same humans quietly returning to their beds each night under the burden of knowing the problems are all still there.

Problems have remarkable patience. It's like they know no matter how far we run or numb - we'll always come back. I suppose our beds are just the most comfortable place to wait on us.

But running, running has been this place where I go talk to my problems in broad daylight. Running has been this place where I set aside all the "fixes" in my life and say, okay problems, it's just me and you. I'm not waiting for you to sneak attack me in my bed tonight, I'm coming to you on my terms.

Running is where I've discovered that actually wrestling with the problems IS the solution - wrestling IS the fix.

There comes a time in running when yours is the only voice you hear. All the voices from the outside world trying to tell you that you are worse than you are - or the voices trying to tell you that you are better than you are - there comes a time in running when all those voices disappear.

It's just you and your voice. And what running has taught me about my voice - when it's singing solo - it will almost always sing the truth.

Running has been brutally honest with me. Here's your problems dude, you're not outrunning them.

But running has also been brutally honest about something else. You don't need to outrun them, pal - you're strong enough and creative enough and bold enough to face them.

Running has come into my life and said, I'm not here to help you escape your problems, I'm here to run by your side right smack into them. Running has come into my life as a reminder that the fix to our problems is actually wrestling with them.

It's the daily reminder that I'm absolutely strong enough to do that.