Exercise and Mental Health – alive magazine

Life does get in the way

Exercise and poor mental health are at war with each other: exercise can be an effective treatment for a condition that, by its very nature, dampens your will to move. A hamster wheel for a reluctant hamster.

Most exercise programs don’t consider psychological hurdles. Nicholas Fabiano, MD, is a resident physician in the department of psychiatry at the University of Ottawa. When it comes to prescribing exercise to a patient, he says, “The first step is seeing if that patient is motivated to do it. Is that a discussion that the patient even wants to have?”

Motivation is the nucleus of self-improvement. It is the ocean between should and can. Mass market programs are made to be sold; asking “Is this even possible for you?” is a poor retail tactic.

“This person might not have the time for that program, which may shut them down completely. The most important point when motivation is at play is just emphasizing that any exercise is better than none.”

ANY exercise.
Some. Even a little.

A systematic review and meta-analysis of 15 prospective studies of nearly 200,000 people noticed “… significant mental health benefits from being physically active, even at levels below the public health recommendations.”

Quality, not quantity. Never mind 150 minutes—let’s start with five.

There’s such a thing as too much

In fact, too much physical activity too quickly can manifest as a form of self-harm, masking important emotions.

“Say somebody went through a very difficult emotional experience: they lost their job, or they were in a breakup,” says Fabiano. “Someone might go to the gym or run in excess, their intention being: ‘I want to feel the pain in my muscles; I want to feel so out of breath that I’ve externalized some of those feelings into my body.’”

Real people—real experiences

That’s what happened to Clara Hughes, a six-time Olympic medalist in speed skating and cycling. She’s also a founding spokesperson for the Bell Let’s Talk program. She turned to sports as a panacea following a battle with drugs and alcohol. Her first brush with depression coincided with a high point in her athletic career.

“It was after the 1996 Atlanta Summer Olympic Games. I won two bronze medals, and everything was just so good. But everything I had done to get there was not a healthy pursuit of sport or athletic excellence,” says Hughes.

“Sport—and the physical pain that came with it—was my new addiction. I realized that even winning Olympic medals wasn’t going to fix me, and I went into a place of not functioning, not being able to get out of bed. I remember vividly just being so ashamed.”

If even the most accomplished athletes don’t know when to stop, is it any wonder that many folks don’t know where to start?

Listen to your body

Hughes says that a structured exercise program can be a catalyst. However, trusting yourself and being in touch with your emotions is paramount. “Whatever floats your boat, whatever gets you out the door. Do you like to walk? Do you like to sit? Do you like to do art? Even sitting is movement, because the breath is the ultimate yoga.”

Fabiano would like physicians to learn how to prescribe physical activity—and not only medication—to individuals who struggle with their mental health.

Antidepressants have the common side effect of weight gain, which can lead to body dysmorphia. While both sexes can feel pressure to conform to a societal norm, Fabiano says men suffer differently. “I think men are taught to keep negative emotions to themselves; it’s almost taboo to speak about being sad or depressed,” he says.

“Some men are trying to achieve this unrealistic goal, which leaves them in a state of dissatisfaction. While chasing it, they’re still doing things that seem outwardly healthy, like going to the gym. They’re eating food in what seems to be a healthy manner, but perhaps that has led them to use performance-enhancing drugs. It circles back to just being someone who is trying to deal with those demons themselves, and not seeking support.”

Ten months ago, I was at the tail end of a two-year recovery from a wrecked knee, worried I would never be able to run like I used to. I was right. But, instead of being discouraged, I decided to listen to my body and do what I could. No more races, no more training programs, no more smartwatches.

I have never enjoyed running more.

“It’s a beautiful thing to move in your body, be in your body, and just listen,” Hughes says. “I live near the water; I might hear a sea lion, I might hear an eagle soaring. There’s so much to experience: smell, sound, and even the taste of the air. And that is the natural world.”

In following the advice I offered in last month’s article, I signed up for a local yoga class. My yoga instructor expressed interest in running, so I recommended a beginner program that I liked to her. It begins with 30 seconds of jogging, followed by a 90-second walk. Even then, I looked her in the eye, and said, “This is a guideline. As with yoga, you must listen to your body; running shouldn’t hurt.”

The only thing missing from that program? Forty-eight seconds of listening for sea lions, and a moment to be grateful for birdsong.

This article was originally published in the June 2025 issue of alive magazine.