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Finding Himself One Step at a Time: How Running Became Part of Lain Leigh's Mental Health Toolkit

When Lain Leigh talks about what brings him the most joy, he doesn't start by talking about running.


He talks about people.


About the weekly brunch where members of the local transgender community gather over a meal to catch up, share what's happening in their lives, and support one another. About organizing a free queer clothing swap where people can shop without fear of judgment. About helping someone who is just beginning their transition connect with a mentor who's walked that path before.


For Lain, community isn't just something he participates in. It's something he creates.

As the founder of Tidewater Trans and Allies, a community organization focused on resource sharing, friendship, and support, he has found what he believes is his life's purpose.

"Those things bring me the greatest joy in life," he said.


That sense of purpose has become just as important to his mental health as another tool he discovered more recently: running.


A Different Relationship with Exercise


Lain, who recently turned 35, is a gay transgender man living with bipolar II disorder and PTSD stemming from an abusive relationship. He still experiences physical effects from that trauma today.


Growing up, exercise never felt like something that belonged to him.


"The only experience I had with running was the physical fitness test at school," he recalled. "I dreaded it every single year."


Gym class meant discomfort. Running meant anxiety. He decided early on that exercise simply wasn't for him.


"I knew I would feel some anxiety relief afterward," he said, "but I hated going to the gym or exercising."


At one point, Lain weighed nearly 300 pounds. Over the past two to two-and-a-half years, he has lost half of his body weight, but that transformation wasn't driven by numbers on a scale. It began when he started feeling more at home in his own body.


As he progressed through his gender transition, something shifted.


"When I started going back to the gym, it was immediately a completely different experience than it had been in high school."


For the first time, movement didn't feel like punishment.


It felt like freedom.


One Small Step at a Time


Lain didn't become a runner overnight.


He started by walking up and down his street for about an hour each day. Eventually, those walks turned into slow jogs. Then came the occasional mile on the treadmill. Before long, he found himself running outside.


One of the biggest changes wasn't physical.


It was emotional.


"I went from looking down at my feet while I was running to eventually having the confidence to hold my head up and look people in the eye."


That confidence carried into other parts of his life, too.


Today, Lain is part of The Snail's Pace Run Club, a local queer running group where he found exactly what he had been searching for: a place where a transgender athlete would be welcomed.


Every Tuesday evening, the group heads out for a few miles before gathering afterward at a local brewery or restaurant.


The miles matter.


The community matters even more.


Discovering the Mental Health Runner Program


Lain first learned about Still I Run while participating in a local mental health 5K. A booth introducing the Mental Health Runner Program immediately caught his attention.


"I knew right away that sounded incredible and would be a great fit for me."


Now eight weeks into the program, his relationship with running has continued to evolve.

When he started, strength training was his primary focus, with running mixed in occasionally.


Today, it's almost the opposite.


"Now I'm mainly running with some weight lifting sprinkled in."


The physical changes have been rewarding, but the mental shifts have surprised him even more.

He's learning how to speak to himself with kindness.


And he's finding value in something he never expected: reflection.


Turning Runs Into Real Mental Health Data


One of Lain's favorite parts of the Mental Health Runner Program isn't the training plan itself.

It's the questions.


"I love the structured work plan, but for me, one of the big things has been the reflection questions before and after the run, and rating the run. That has been very helpful for me."

Instead of simply finishing a workout and moving on with his day, Lain has been documenting how he feels before and after each run.


That record has become something much bigger than a training log.


"I'm able to go back and look at what was going on with me during that week, and I can take that data back to my therapist."


For someone who found traditional mood journaling difficult to maintain, the program created a habit that finally stuck.


Even more encouraging, he has noticed a consistent pattern.


Across eight weeks, only one or two runs failed to lower his stress level.


He's also experienced just one major panic attack during that time.


For someone living with bipolar II disorder and PTSD, that's significant.


A Tool, Not a Cure


Lain is careful not to oversimplify what running has done for his mental health.

He doesn't believe it's a cure.


In fact, he thinks it's important not to frame movement that way.


"Running has not been a cure for my mental health the way that doctors tend to portray that running can be a cure for pain management and weight loss and all the things, and I have not found that to be the case," he said. "I don't believe that there is a cure-all."


What he has found is something sustainable.


"I do believe that it is my number one coping mechanism, and it is a tool in my toolkit, whereas before I was turning to a lot more destructive things to cope."


That distinction matters.


Running hasn't erased his bipolar disorder.


It hasn't taken away his PTSD.


But it has given him another healthy way to care for himself when life feels overwhelming.


Finally Doing Something for Himself


Lain spends much of his time giving to others.


He creates welcoming spaces. He builds community. He helps people feel seen and supported during some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives.


The Mental Health Runner Program has reminded him that he deserves that same care.


"I'm just your local, mentally ill, transgender man trying to make it in the world and finally doing something for himself rather than always giving to someone else."


It's a simple statement, but one that captures what the program is really about.

Not becoming someone different.


Not finding a miracle solution.


Just taking one step after another while learning to extend the same compassion inward that we so often give to everyone else.


If you're looking for a structured program that combines running, reflection, and practical mental health support, the Mental Health Runner Program offers a place to start. Every workout includes opportunities to check in with yourself, celebrate progress, and build healthy coping tools that can support you both on the run and in everyday life.


Sometimes, the most meaningful finish line isn't crossing a race course.


It's finally believing you're worth showing up for.

Guest Writer

Guest Writer

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