At the end of 2021, I left my job after a close friend was hospitalized. Almost every weekend I would head to the hospital to help him out. It was a lot, and I was drained from work, so I took some time off with the understanding that I’d jump right back in. My friend got better, and I started reaching out for jobs. I vividly remember getting my last paycheck on Nov. 4 and thinking, “I’ll jump into fintech — everything’s going to be fine.”
Then in December, there was a wave of massive layoffs in the tech industry. It was an awakening — oh, this is going to be a lot tougher than I thought. I put my head down and applied everywhere, trying to get back into the field. It became very difficult. After several no’s, I started to feel lower and lower until I could barely recognize myself. I started stress-eating. Every so often, I’d get a reply from an employer — a rejection — but often I didn’t get responses at all. I tried everything. I reached out to my former school’s career office to change up my resume. I cold-called people from LinkedIn. It felt like doors kept closing in my face. It was very demoralizing.
The only thing that kept me going was my puppy, Harlem. She needed to be walked every day, so we’d go to the park, but that was really the only time I went outside. My friends started to notice. They were like, “Hey, is everything good?” They started inviting me to play basketball, just to get out of the house. But things were tough. I started to realize I was depressed. There were times I didn’t feel like waking up, or I’d sleep for 18 hours a day. I didn’t know what was happening. I was the guy who went to Stanford. I was valedictorian of my high school. I kept thinking, “This shouldn’t be happening to me.”
My mom would often go to Marshalls after work — that was her way of stress release, retail therapy. One time she came back with some New Balances. She said, “Try to go on a run.” And I said, “Whoa, run? I don’t run.” Growing up, running was the punishment we had to endure before the fun thing, before we got to play basketball or soccer. She said the word “running” and my Instagram might have picked it up, because I started to see a bunch of running content — Rob and Shaq from the Bronx Burners; another guy in New Jersey, @hellahgood9, who ran across the United States. It seemed like every time they finished a run, they had smiles on their faces. So I said, “You know what? I’ll try it out.”
I laced up my shoes one day, grabbed my puppy and went on a jog. I told her, if you run with me for a mile, we’ll make it to Yankee Stadium and we can throw the ball around, and then we’ll run back. The run started off a little frustrating — Harlem was zigzagging everywhere. This was new to both of us. But when we got to the park, after a while, I realized, “Oh, I feel good.” I threw the ball with her. I had a smile on my face. Then we ran back and I was like, “Wow, that felt great.” Over time, I started adding more miles. I started to see running differently – not as punishment, but as release.
Some of those initial runs were grueling. I remember running on the West Side Highway and people would fly by with strollers, or I’d see someone triple my age running so much faster than me. In the beginning, I was super anxious. I didn’t want to run with anybody. But when I got out of that mindset and just appreciated my body for what it could do, my relationship with running started to change. I began to run to or from appointments instead of taking the train. I ran with two of my fraternity brothers from Harlem all the way down to the Lower East Side to a bakery to try these viral croissants. I saw the city in a different way than I had before. That gave me the bug. I started participating in races and joining clubs. I started seeing the number on the scale go down, and that was motivating, too. Eventually I lost 100 pounds.
I started running in April 2022, and by September or October, I was running 10 miles a day. Now I’m getting ready to run my fifth marathon: the TCS New York City marathon, produced by New York Road Runners. I’m working again, as a student enrollment coordinator at my former school, while I apply to law school.
My mom giving me those shoes put the pen back in my hand. I was like, “Wow, I have the power to change this narrative.” Through running, I not only improved my physical and mental health, but I improved my relationship with my family. And I developed discipline. I often think about what would have happened if my mom hadn’t come home that day with a pair of running shoes. I wonder if I still would have gravitated toward the sport. Or maybe I would have picked up basketball or football or something else. I think I would have eventually gotten myself out of that rut. But it would have been a slower climb.
Movement is medicine. It used to be that when I had a hard day, I’d say, “I deserve some Ben & Jerry’s.” Now I say, “I deserve a run.” Cherishing your body is amazing, and sometimes cherishing your body looks like putting it through hard things, proving to yourself that you can do something difficult.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity. As told to Rheana Murray.
Do you have a personal essay you want to share with Newsweek? Send your story to MyTurn@newsweek.com.