A BACHELOR OF SCIENCE DEGREE ACCOMPANIED BY A LOSS OF PURPOSE

Starting in my freshman year of college, my student-athlete experience was marked by struggles with depression, OCD, and an unrelenting eating disorder within the demanding world of division-1 athletics. The pressures I faced, both self-imposed and external, led to a less than fulfilling college cross country and track experience. Now, in August 2025, far removed from NCAA Division I sports, I’ve taken a break from running post-graduation. I’m now focused on rediscovering my passion for running while seeking a deeper meaning beyond the track.

I’ve spent the majority of my life known as “the runner,” from middle school through college. Now, with a non-running career, I grapple daily with a sense of loss. The transition brings anxiety, insecurity, and sadness as I seek purpose beyond the track. While I’m accustomed to racing’s start line, navigating a life without running proves daunting. Without this defining identity, I feel adrift and almost extinct; my sense of self at risk without the title of “runner”.

Balancing running with the demands of everyday life is a challenging yet rewarding journey. It’s about rediscovering the joy that running once brought me, before facing obstacles like an eating disorder, clinical depression, and anxiety. For many of us who aren’t professional athletes, running is a passion that coexists with our other priorities. While we admire the world of professional running and anything professional running adjacent, it’s important to acknowledge that it’s not the reality for most everyone. Finding that equilibrium between our love for running and the complexities of life is where I find myself today.

I acknowledge my past selfishness when running was an all-consuming identity. My singular focus on running led me to hurt many people, even predating my college years. The realization that I was not a kind individual weighs heavily on me to this day. I removed myself from really good friends and teammates, and displayed uncoachable behavior. The pressure to excel in sports often results in unintentionally pushing others away, a struggle exacerbated by the demands of athletics. Regrettably, I INTENTIONALLY harmed others to achieve my goals, transforming into a self-absorbed and thoughtless individual. The toll on my relationships is something I can never fully repair or seek forgiveness for, a damn painful truth I grapple with daily. Despite the past, I now strive to be a better person, recognizing the stark contrast between who I was and who I am today. It’s clear that running itself wasn’t the sole cause of my self-centered behavior; rather, a complex interplay of neurological, psychological, and social factors contributed.

As I navigate my relationship with running now, it’s essential to acknowledge that while I still hold running in high regard compared to the general population, I’m striving for a more sustainable approach to running. Balancing my passion for running with the demands of my non-running career presents a unique challenge. There are moments at work when the call for a run feels stronger, highlighting the internal conflict between my professional responsibilities and athletic pursuits.

I m constantly adapting to a new reality where running competes with other aspects of my life. The shift from a running-centric existence to a more balanced lifestyle can feel like a loss, impacting not only my personal goals but also the support and recognition received from coaches, teammates, and the running community.

Recognizing that maintaining a rigorous running schedule of over 90 miles a week is unsustainable without a singular focus on running, I’m committed to prioritizing my overall well-being and listening to my body. Embracing a more flexible approach to running, I aim to let go of obsessive tendencies and rediscover the joy and peace that running brings into my life.

In finding a life and identity beyond running while still embracing it, I’ve realized the importance of acknowledging the lost aspects of my life and letting go of unhelpful feelings associated with running. Seeking guidance from a psychologist has been instrumental in helping me embrace my multidimensional self beyond the athletic realm. While I can’t change the past actions that led me to confine myself, I now have the power to align my life with my core values moving forward.

One significant reason I cherish running, especially when it’s not an obligation, is the freedom from competitive pressures. By running intrinsically, I find joy in the activity itself rather than focusing solely on external outcomes. My motivation stems from love, not expectations, creating a more fulfilling experience. My journey in competitive running has been diverse, encompassing triumph, educational achievements, community bonds, struggles with depression, and moments of solitude. Learning to navigate a non-competitive approach to running is an ongoing process

Sara Seiwald