Why Running Is Good for the Soul, As Proven by Science.
Running doesn’t just feel good - it changes your brain, your body, your outlook, and yes, your soul.
Running saved me. Not in some abstract, inspirational quote on a mug kind of way. It truly rewired how I see the world, and my place in it.
There’s a moment usually about three miles in, when something shifts. Your breath settles into a rhythm, your mind stops racing, and the noise of life fades. You become present, grounded in each stride, each breath, each heartbeat. It’s in this flow that I find myself again and again. After running more than 1,000 marathons, setting 11 world records, and covering ground on every continent, that feeling never gets old. I don’t run just for fitness. I run for something deeper. Something intangible. I run for the soul.
Running saved me. It changed the way I see the world and my place in it. It gave me clarity, discipline, and a sense of connection that no screen or substance could provide. And while that might sound poetic, the science backs it up. Running doesn’t just feel good—it changes your brain, your body, your outlook, and yes, your soul.
1. The Science - Why It Feels Great to Run
Running triggers a cascade of chemical reactions in the brain. The first to gain fame were endorphins—natural opioids released during aerobic activity that reduce pain and create feelings of euphoria. As discussed in Boecker's 2008 paper in Cerebral Cortex, these opioidergic mechanisms play a significant role in the phenomenon commonly known as the "runner's high."
But more recent research points to endocannabinoids as the main drivers of this blissful state. These naturally occurring neurotransmitters, chemically similar to the active compound in cannabis, are released during sustained aerobic activity. According to a 2015 study by Fuss and colleagues published in PNAS, these endocannabinoids cross the blood-brain barrier and bind to receptors that promote calm, reduce anxiety, and enhance mood.
Long-term, running brings structural changes to the brain. A landmark study by Erickson in 2011, showed that aerobic exercise increases the size of the hippocampus, a region crucial for memory and emotional regulation. Even more compelling, research by van Praag in 2008 highlighted how regular running stimulates neurogenesis, the creation of new neurons, a process once thought impossible in adults.
These findings confirm what many runners know intuitively: running not only makes you feel better in the moment, it helps build long-term mental resilience and emotional balance.
It gave me clarity, discipline, and a sense of connection that no screen or substance could provide.
2. Running Through Nature: A Return to Source
Humans evolved to move. Our ancestors weren’t sedentary; they chased prey, wandered forests, and migrated across landscapes. Movement in nature isn’t a luxury, it’s a return to our biological roots.
Running outdoors taps into this primal connection. Unlike the monotony of treadmills and enclosed gyms, trail running, beach runs, and even urban park jogs provide a multi-sensory experience. You’re not just exercising, you’re immersing yourself in a living environment. The wind on your face, the crunch of dirt underfoot, the scent of wet grass—they ground you in the moment.
Scientific research supports this. As shown in a 2015 study by Bratman and colleagues published in PNAS, spending time in natural environments can significantly reduce rumination, those persistent negative thoughts that often fuel anxiety and depression. Participants who walked in natural settings showed reduced neural activity in the subgenual prefrontal cortex, a brain region linked to mental health disorders.
When you combine the rhythmic movement of running with the therapeutic effects of nature, you get a potent cocktail for emotional and psychological healing.
3. Mental Health: The Silent Transformation
Running is not a miracle cure, but it can be a lifeline. I’ve spoken with countless runners around the globe who echo the same truth: running helped them survive dark chapters. Whether it’s grief, trauma, depression, or anxiety, movement offers a kind of medicine that pills often can't match.
Scientific evidence backs this up. In a comprehensive 2016 meta-analysis published in JAMA Psychiatry, Schuch found that regular physical activity reduces the risk of developing depression by 26%. This preventative benefit was observed across various demographics and geographic locations, emphasising the universal impact of exercise.
Moreover, running can be as effective as medication in some scenarios. In a pivotal 1999 study by Blumenthal published in Archives of Internal Medicine, patients with major depressive disorder showed comparable improvements whether treated with antidepressant medication or aerobic exercise. Notably, those who continued to exercise after the trial experienced significantly lower relapse rates.
Running gives structure to days that might otherwise feel empty. It offers control in times of chaos. It’s movement with meaning.
4. Community on the Move
There’s something powerful about movement shared. Running is both solitary and collective. Whether you’re out on a solo trail at dawn or plodding the pavement with a crowd of thousands, there's unity in the shared effort.
Events like Parkrun, city marathons, and local run clubs have become modern rituals. They bring people together across ages, backgrounds, and beliefs. In those miles, barriers break down. Strangers cheer for you. You cheer for strangers. It’s raw, real, and human.
When I founded Run Weekends it was born from this spirit. Taking groups of strangers away on running retreats all over the world brings people from different backgrounds and life scenarios together. There’s almost a channel of energy arises from a new group of runners meeting for the first time.
The soul doesn’t just thrive on solitude. It thrives on solidarity. Running creates bonds that go deeper than social media likes or texts. It builds family from footsteps.
5. It’s Free. And It’s Yours.
In a world increasingly dominated by paywalls, subscriptions, and curated content, (me too, sorry about that), running remains stubbornly democratic. You don’t need a gym, an app, or even a plan. You just need shoes and the will to move, and even the shoes are optional for some.
Running is raw. It's not about gear or metrics. It’s about you, the road, and your breath. That accessibility makes it one of the most empowering forms of self care available. It belongs to everyone.
And because it’s yours, you define the terms. Fast or slow. Morning or night. 5K or 50 miles. The rules are yours to break. That freedom itself is food for the soul, and not to be overlooked.
There’s a moment, usually around mile three, when the world quiets. Breath finds rhythm. Thoughts dissolve. And in that stillness, I meet my peace.
6. It Changes Your Life If You Let It.
Running isn't just something you do. Over time, it shapes who you are. It teaches discipline. Getting up when it's cold and dark. It teaches humility when your body says no, and your ego has to listen. It teaches joy, that simple, childlike delight in movement.
During my Running The World expedition, I experienced every extreme: sweltering heat in the Sahara, freezing conditions up north in Canada, isolation in some remote areas, and an overwhelming exhaustion. And yet, at the end of each day, running delivered the same result: peace.
It wasn’t the distance. It wasn’t the medals. It was an unspoken, unnamed higher energy, perhaps soulful. That, above all, is why running matters. It strips away the noise, the labels, the expectations. What’s left is you, whole and present. Even if you’re in a foul mood.
Whether it’s grief, anxiety, or a heavy fog of depression movement can be medicine. Not perfect. Not painless. But profoundly powerful.
7. Running is in Our Bones: A Legacy from Our Ancestors
There’s a reason running feels primal. That’s because it is. Long before cities and schedules, before watches tracked our steps or shoes cushioned our strides, running was essential to who we were. It was survival. It was connection. It was the rhythm of life.
Anthropologists believe we are uniquely built for endurance running not to win races or hit PBs, but for something more ancient and raw: persistence hunting. Our ancestors didn’t rely on speed they relied on stamina. They ran under the heat of the sun, for hours, tracking prey until it collapsed from exhaustion. While other predators sprinted, we endured. We sweat to cool ourselves. We moved with efficiency, not urgency. It was our ability to run for long distances mile after mile that kept us alive.
And this evolutionary blueprint is still with us. Our long legs, spring like tendons, powerful glutes, and short, stable toes are all remnants of this running heritage. Even our inner ear the thing that keeps us balanced while upright is tuned for motion. Harvard’s Daniel Lieberman calls us “born to run,” and it’s not just poetic. It’s scientific fact. We are, quite literally, endurance machines. The infamous book by Christopher Mcdougall encapsulates this so well.
But the modern world has dulled that engine. We’ve outsourced movement to machines. We sit more than we stand. We stare at screens instead of scanning the horizon. Yet the potential hasn’t disappeared. It’s just been buried under convenience.
So when you lace up your shoes and head out the door, you’re not just working out you’re waking up something ancient. You’re remembering. You’re stepping into a rhythm older than language, older than tools, older than fear. You’re running as your ancestors did: not away from something, but toward a deeper meaning. That we are meant to move. That stillness was never our default. That freedom lies in motion. All this for me means the soul craves running. I feel it in me.
Running is good for the soul because it brings us back to the beginning. It reawakens the wildness within. It lets us time travel that primal being. Lungs burning, heart wide open and back to the origin of what it means to be us.
I’ll See You Out There
In an age increasingly defined by noise, haste, and digital dislocation, we are starved of the rituals that once anchored us to something deeper something true. Running, in all its elemental purity, stands as one of the few remaining acts that reconnects us to ourselves. It is both ancient and timeless; a moving meditation, a return to rhythm, a quiet rebellion against a world that rarely pauses.
Run when you are elated. Run when you are broken. Run not to escape life, but to meet it more honestly. Run for the stillness between each breath, for the unspoken truths that rise with your heartbeat. Run because somewhere, beneath thought and flesh, your soul remembers the way.
Run Well
