I started running at 4:30am about six months ago. Not because I’m some fitness guru — because I couldn’t sleep anyway.
Those first few weeks after my ex filed the restraining order (completely fabricated, by the way), I’d lie in bed replaying every conversation, every text, every moment I should have seen this coming. My brain just wouldn’t shut up. So I figured if I’m gonna be awake, might as well do something with it.
Started with maybe two miles around my neighborhood here in Columbus. Now I’m up to six, sometimes eight on weekends. There’s something about hitting the pavement when the world’s still quiet that just… I don’t know. Makes the chaos feel manageable for a bit.
My lawyer — well, my second lawyer, the first one was useless — she keeps telling me to document everything. Screenshot this, save that email, record the time my daughter didn’t show up for pickup. It’s necessary but it’s exhausting living like you’re building a case every single day. But when I’m running? None of that exists for thirty, forty minutes. Just my feet hitting concrete and my lungs working.
Physical exhaustion helps with the mental exhaustion, if that makes sense. After a good run I can actually focus on the legal stuff without my thoughts spiraling into worst-case scenarios about never seeing Emma again.
I know some people hit the gym, others do yoga (my sister keeps pushing meditation apps on me). What’s working for you guys? I’m curious what outlets are keeping everyone sane through this nightmare. Because honestly, without those morning miles, I think I’d have lost it completely by now.
The running doesn’t fix anything. Emma’s still not returning my calls and the court date got pushed back another two months. But it gives me something I can control when everything else feels completely out of my hands.
Same here with the early mornings — I’m usually up by 5am anyway, mind racing about my case. I’ve been hitting the gym instead of running, but that same feeling of having something that’s just MINE for an hour.
My lawyer keeps saying the same thing about documenting everything. It’s like living your life as evidence, exhausting as hell.
Same boat, different time. 3am lifting for me — started when I couldn’t handle lying there anymore either.
I started meditating around the same time you started running, probably for similar reasons — the brain that just wouldn’t switch off, the 3am spiraling thoughts about what I could have done differently. My GP suggested it when I went in completely frayed, admitting I hadn’t slept properly in weeks. She recommended this app called Insight Timer and honestly, I was skeptical. Sitting still with my thoughts felt like the last thing I needed.
But there’s something about those guided meditations at dawn that created a tiny pocket of calm in the storm. Just ten minutes at first, now sometimes twenty or thirty when it’s really bad. It doesn’t stop the grief — nothing does — but it taught me how to observe the thoughts without drowning in them. Like watching clouds pass instead of being swept up in the hurricane. I’ve got this journal now too, just stream-of-consciousness writing after meditation. Sometimes it’s angry, sometimes it’s just sad, but getting it out of my head and onto paper helps.
Three years in and I still need those morning rituals. My eldest would be sixteen now — I wonder if she runs too, if she’s anything like her dad was at that age. The not knowing is the hardest part, isn’t it? But like you said, having something you can control when everything else is chaos… it’s not everything, but it’s something. And some days, something is enough to keep going.
God, the 4:30am thing hits home. I’m not a runner but I’ve been up at ungodly hours too since my ex took the kids across to the South Island. There’s something about those early morning hours when you’re the only one awake that feels… I don’t know, like you’re reclaiming some tiny bit of control?
For me it’s been swimming. There’s a pool that opens at 5am and I just go and do laps until my arms feel like jelly. The rhythm of it, the counting — it’s the only time my brain stops calculating flight costs to Christchurch or wondering what lies they’re being told about why mummy “can’t” visit. Plus the Hague Convention paperwork is doing my head in, so having that hour where I literally can’t think about anything except not drowning has been a lifesaver.
You’re so right about physical exhaustion helping with the mental stuff. I sleep better on swimming days, which means I can actually read legal documents without them blurring together.
God, 4:30am runs — I get this completely. I do my meditation at 5am for exactly the same reason, brain won’t switch off anyway so might as well use the time. Those early morning moments when it’s just you and the quiet, they’re like gold dust aren’t they. I’m three years in and still need that daily reset to function.