My On Again/Off Again Relationship With Running…. And Why High Impact Exercise is Imperative for Our Bones

It’s 2010, and I’ve just shown up for my first trimester of physical therapy school in St. Augustine, FL. We’re thrown into massage therapy class on day one, purposely, to get our hands more comfortable touching other people’s bodies. “OK, time to partner up, take your shirts off, and practice the techniques I just showed you” says our professor who is a seasoned therapist. In a slightly embarrassed daze, I comply, and simultaneously notice all these beautifully-sculpted bodies around me. If you didn’t know this fun fact, most physical therapists (PT’s) come from an athletic background, having spent the majority of their lives playing competitive sports; they often become interested in the PT field due to an inevitable sports injury in which they were sent to physical therapy, healed & strengthened, and were able to get back in the game. Some examples: my husband Eric, Little League World Champion, multi-season athlete through high school, and D3 college soccer player. He literally looked airbrushed when he took his shirt off that first day. Or my roomate Morgan, a 5’7 blonde bombshell with thick thighs and a tiny waist from playing competitive soccer her entire life. And Steve, one of my best friends throughout PT school, who actually played in the US Men’s minor soccer leagues. 

Now to give you some context, I started out as a bratty teen who quickly figured out socializing and partying fit my “too cool” demeaner. Exercise? Sports? Those were not on my radar. House parties? Drinks? Edging the line of getting into trouble? Much more my speed. I (proudly) continued my party girl career at the University of Tampa for 4 years where I was also awarded an undergraduate degree in Exercise Science. By the time I showed up at PT school at age 25, I had gotten a fair amount of the fast life out of my system and thankfully was ready to get more serious about my studies and earn a degree that would set me up for a career. 

What does any of this have to do with running?

Well, on that first day of massage class, looking around at all that muscle definition and athletic prowess, feeling my own squishiness and lack of athletic ability, my very human need to fit in, to belong with these peers, started bubbling up inside me.

How was I to fit in? The newly constructed gym at our school, sparkling with shiny equipment, seemed a terrifying choice. I was worried how silly and bumbling I would look trying to figure out all those machines. Joining a rec soccer league with Eric and Morgan? Heck, heck no – I quit playing soccer in middle school when the field doubled in size and running it felt way too hard. Since many of my classmates ran from our apartment complex to the beach regularly, I decided I would run. Given that Florida is entirely flat, and that running is a solitary exercise, I thought it was the least likely athletic endeavor for me to screw up, and it turned out to be a good choice.

So enter my first foray into running: I looked up a training schedule for a ½ Marathon, wrote down said schedule on my paper calendar (remember it was 2010), bought some good running shoes, and began running 3-4 times per week according to the schedule. 

I huffed, I puffed, I struggled in those early days. I’m sure I wanted to quit. But I had all these new classmates to impress! Belonging is a strong motivator. 

And then something magical happened: as I pushed past the 5 mile mark, the coveted “Runner’s High” kicked in. All of a sudden my body felt lighter, my mind clearer, and my movement seemed to require less effort. Endorphins are a glorious thing.

I proudly trained my butt off that first year, signed up for a ½ marathon, and completed it, running the whole time, getting a big hug and lots of respect for my endeavor from Eric and my friends Maria and Jason at the finish line.

Maria, Jason, Caroline, and Eric at the finish line for the half marathon.

I continued to run throughout PT school, eventually re-shaping my own body to be more similar to my classmates, which was both a strange and satisfying feeling. 

When I moved to Northern Virginia after graduating, my first PT job zapped so much of my time and nearly all of my energy. I ran a couple times per week, but eventually was defeated by the hilly nature of this area. 

I stopped running altogether around 2013, and subsequently had a long period of running dormancy. I declared myself a walker, someone who maybe had more slow-twitch muscle fibers than fast-twitch ones like my PT peers. I made peace with it. I even poked fun at myself, deeming myself “old lady ankles” after one short-lived, failed attempt at running the hills in my neighborhood in 2022.

Fast forward to Summer of 2024. I’m at an Osteoporosis Symposium in downtown D.C., trying to learn everything I can about bone health in order to serve my many, many older adult patients who have been diagnosed with Osteopenia and Osteoporosis. My instructor, a career physical therapist who is incredibly fit, energetic and in her 60’s, tells us the latest research is showing that high impact exercise is imperative for bone building - I think of my twin almost-4-year-olds, hopping off of every surface they can scramble up to, some as high as 4 feet, leaping off and landing on their feet on the ground with a huge amount of impact. They are in their prime bone-building years and they are programmed to jump. Then I think of my slow-twitch muscle fiber, low-impact leaning self. I meekly raise my hand at the Osteoporosis Symposium: “Um, how much high impact do we need to have good bones?” The fit 60+ year old PT in tight yoga pants casually says, “50 impacts per day”. She must have recognized the surprised look on my face as she added “that’s really not a lot.” Dang! Ok fit PT lady, I hear you.

As happens in life, this moment sparked a little fire inside me. I’m 39. I’ll be going through menopause sometime in the next 10 years during which my hormone levels will plummet, dramatically affecting multiple systems in my body, especially my skeletal system. Women lose bone mass at an alarming rate during and after menopause. (For further reading on Bone Health, check out this blog on Bone Health and Scoliosis.)

A few days later I’m mid-walk in my neighborhood on my usual 3 mile loop. I think back to my fit instructor from the Osteoporosis course: I ponder, how long will it take me to do 50 jogging steps to get my recommended 50 impacts per day? I break into a jog. I count to 50. I’m done before I even reach the end of the block. Huh, I think, she was right, it’s really not a lot. A few days later I’m at work and have a few minutes to spare in between patients. How many jumping jacks can I do in a row before I get tired I wonder. I’m pretty sure I pooped out after about 25. But a quick rest break and I got the other 25 done before my next patient arrived. Silent little pat on the back for taking better care of my bones.

It's been 5 months since the fittest 60-year-old shamed me into doing high impact exercise. I started with walk-jog intervals in my hilly neighborhood. I’d chose to walk up the big hills in the beginning. I spent months gradually increasing the time I spent jogging versus walking. Slow and steady. This period of time coincided with an incredibly stressful life event, and oddly, jogging felt like one of the few things that helped me cope with the tremendous stress. Recently, for the first time ever, I was able to jog the entire 3 mile, hilly AF loop, and it felt so good: a true accomplishment. 

As I reflect on these experiences, I recognize how different my motivation was for running in PT school versus running now as a 39-year-old mom and scoliosis PT. I’m no longer running for external reasons: to fit in with my classmates or to look more fit. Of course I quit running when I moved away from my classmates; the motivation was gone. Now I’m running because I know my bones depend on it. I’m invested in practicing what I preach in my work life. It helps me manage the stress the comes along even on good days with 3 children under the age of 4.

I still can’t say I love running. It’s hard work. I get stitches in my abs all the time. I’m breathless. But I know how good it is for me. And I certainly feel better after: more energized and able to show up more level-headed for my kiddos.

This newfound internal motivation I have for running and high impact exercise in general feels lasting. I may not always choose to run, but I can pivot to jumping jacks, jumping rope, or simply climbing up onto the highest surface my kids and I can find, and leaping down.

If you have Osteopenia or Osteoporosis and are curious as to how we can help you, ready about our BoneFit certification here.