One Step at a Time: Emily Handlon on Running Through Life’s Hardest Seasons

No one had ever really asked Emily Handlon why she runs. Not in a way that invited reflection or honored how much running has shaped her life. When she finally paused to think about it, the answer had nothing to do with race times or training plans. It was about survival. About grief. About choosing to keep moving forward when everything felt heavy.

Emily started running as a senior in high school during a time when life felt overwhelming. She struggled with self-confidence, body image, and constant comparison. That quiet belief that everyone else had it figured out while she didn’t, sat with her daily. On the surface, it looked like typical teenage insecurity. Underneath, it was much more serious.

A Moment That Changed Everything

The Sunday after senior prom, Emily had a plan to end her life. She had thought through every detail. At the last moment, she texted her mom and told her everything. That text changed the course of her life. Her mom took her to the hospital, and Emily was hospitalized for about a week.

When she was discharged, something unexpected happened. Just days later, she ran her first half marathon.

It wasn’t part of a long-term plan or a bucket list goal. During her senior project, Emily had researched exercise, initially motivated by wanting to change her body. But something shifted while she was in the hospital. She realized she needed to do something she had never done before. Something that felt impossible. Something that could remind her she was capable.

She left the hospital on Thursday and ran the Flying Pig Half Marathon that Sunday.

“I needed to feel that I could do something I never thought I’d accomplish,” she shared. That race became a marker in her life, not because of the distance, but because of what it represented. Running didn’t start as a passion. It started as a way to save her life.

Running as a Way Back

From that point on, Emily kept running. Through college. Through adulthood. Through seasons that felt steady and seasons that felt anything but. Running became a constant. A way back to herself.

When life felt overwhelming, running reminded her why she was still here.

When things felt stable, it helped her stay grounded.

When she stopped running for any reason, returning to it felt like coming home.

Life continued to bring challenges. After getting married, Emily experienced a miscarriage and fell into another deep depression. Once again, running didn’t fix everything, but it gave her something solid to hold onto. Something tangible when everything else felt out of control.

Postpartum, Grief, and Starting Again

After becoming pregnant again, Emily experienced severe postpartum depression. She gained weight and felt disconnected from herself, slipping back into the same mental space she remembered from high school. Postpartum depression, she explained, takes over every part of who you are.

So she returned to running.

Through grief and loss. Through exhaustion and healing. Through moments of feeling stuck and unsure, running continued to bring her back. Not to who she was before, but to who she was becoming.

“That forward motion mattered more than I realized,” Emily said.

What Running Looks Like Now

As a mom, running looks different than it once did. It’s no longer about speed or personal records. It represents resilience. It’s about showing her kids that hard times don’t define you. That choosing yourself and your health matters. That starting again is always allowed.

It feels full circle.

Running taught Emily that healing isn’t instant. It doesn’t erase pain. It happens slowly, through small choices and steady steps. One run at a time.

“If my senior-year self could have known that within seven days of wanting to end her life, she’d find something that gave her hope,” Emily reflected, “everything might have felt different.”

Coming Back to the Marathon

In college, Emily ran her first marathon almost on a whim, just to see if she could. Life eventually pulled her away from running for a while. When she found her way back, she started with half marathons again. Then, ten years after her first marathon, and after navigating postpartum depression, she signed up for another one.

That marathon became one of the best experiences of her life.

It wasn’t about proving anything. It was about reminding herself she could take the first step, even when doubt showed up. This year, she’s preparing to run her fourth marathon, the Flying Pig Marathon, where her journey began. This time, she’s fundraising for Still I Run.

Running, Mental Health, and Purpose

Emily is now a licensed clinical social worker and mental health therapist working in private practice. The connection between movement and mental health isn’t just personal for her; it’s professional. She’s always wanted to bring those two worlds together.

While researching the relationship between running and mental health and following running communities online, Still I Run kept appearing in her feed. When she explored the programs, it immediately felt aligned.

As both a runner and a therapist, Emily offers grounded advice to anyone starting to run for their mental health.

“Running showed me that healing isn’t about being untouched by pain,” she said. “It’s about learning how to live fully even after it. Running reminds me that I survived hard things and I’m still moving forward. Our journeys aren’t straight lines. Running doesn’t erase any of that, but it helps us carry the heavy things.”

The Finish Line That Always Matters

There’s one more constant in Emily’s story that she always names. Her mom.

Her mom is the reason she’s here. She’s the one who answered that text. The one who took her to the hospital. The one who stayed. At the end of every marathon Emily has run, her mom is there at the finish line. Through every stage of life and every struggle, she’s been there.

“Running and my mom are the reason I’m here,” Emily said.

Emily’s story is a reminder that running doesn’t have to start with a goal. Sometimes it starts with a need. Sometimes it starts as a way to survive. Over time, it can become a way to heal, to grow, and to keep showing up.

Forward doesn’t have to be fast. Forward just has to happen.

And sometimes, that first step changes everything.