Endurance running is a chosen suffering.

For a long time, I had believed that choosing hard things, running marathons among them, will insulate me from life’s toughest blows. It won’t.

Endured 102 kilometers under intense heat, ran at below zero temp through ice and snow, trekked through mud and rugged terrain at high elevation, and have fallen so many times, I can no longer keep count.

I am physically and mentally tough, or so I thought. Antifragile my foot.

Now, as I wait in the hospital eatery, trying my very best to string words together and make sense of what’s happening, I feel most vulnerable and weak.

People who really know me know that I am the last person to cave in to any kind of pressure. I am that person everyone thinks is tough as nails. I have been through a lot but then again, maybe this is just the final straw that is breaking the camel’s back.

Yesterday, after some period of inactivity, I forced myself to sneak in time for the gym. Every sinew of my body was resisting it but I knew I had to get my mind off things and restore some equilibrium somehow.

It did help, at least for a while.

Studies upon studies have shown that exercise helps alleviate depression and anxiety. A meta analysis of at least 218 studies that came out in 2024 shows that exercise is an effective treatment for the depressed.

I keep reminding myself too that I cannot afford to be physically or mentally unwell given the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. I am extremely grateful for family and friends who have reached out and offered help. But, ultimately, this is on me.

The stoics have taught us to acknowledge that life isn’t fair. Life is hard. And bad things happen.

Epictetus, who emphasized understanding the difference between things we can and cannot control, took all the adversities handed to him and transformed them into opportunities to help others.

While in the midst of a crisis, we tend to wallow in our self pity, we need to realize that suffering is not unique to us. I can’t help but think of the amount of suffering the families in war-torn Gaza have endured. Also, the hardships that a lot of our fellow Filipinos go through in their daily grind.

No, I am not unique. And my suffering isn’t in any way more important. So I shall continue to hold my head above water and pray, like all the time.

Suffering is also the price we pay for loving, deeply. I realized the things that pain me most are the suffering of the people I hold dear. If that’s the case, I embrace this suffering as much as I do the act of loving.