Every time I've been at a low point, somebody has told me to exercise.
And every time, part of me has wanted to throw something at them. Because when you can barely get off the couch, "go for a run" sounds like "just be less depressed".
So I'm going to be fair to both sides here. The annoying advice is, irritatingly, mostly right. And it's also not the whole answer.
Here's the plain version first. Yes, exercise does help depression and anxiety for a lot of people. The NHS says regular exercise can boost your mood if you have depression and is especially useful for less severe depression. The World Health Organization includes exercising regularly, "even if it's just a short walk", in its self-care advice for depression. It works best next to other help. If your depression is severe, or you're having thoughts of suicide, a walk is not the treatment. Get proper help first, and add the walk later.
The time my body felt right
The closest I've ever come to feeling settled in my own body was underwater.
When I was running a dive operation in Indonesia, I was in the water a lot. I don't want to oversell it. I still had my problems there. But down there, breathing slow, everything quiet, my brain finally shut up for a while. I came up tired in a good way.
I didn't think of that as "exercise for mental health" at the time. I thought of it as work, and as something I loved. Looking back, it was probably both.
Now I live in Québec, in La Petite-Nation, and there's no reef. There's a lake, and a forest, and a winter that does its best to keep me inside for five months.
Why I keep failing at exercise plans
This is the honest bit.
My pattern with almost everything is boom, then crash. I find a new thing, I go all in. New shoes, new app, a plan, five days a week, I'm going to be a different person. Two or three weeks later I've crashed, I've skipped four days, and the whole thing feels ruined, so I quit. Then I feel worse than before I started, because now I've also "failed".
If you're autistic or have ADHD traits, or you're just wired all-or-nothing like me, you might know this one. (I wrote about it in boom, then crash: my energy cycle.)
What I've figured out is that the plan was the problem. The plans were built for the boom version of me. The crash version of me needed a plan too, and I never wrote one.
What actually sticks for me
Walking. Boring, I know.
Specifically, walking with a camera. I go out to shoot something, and the walking happens on the side. I'm looking at light on the water, not counting steps. The exercise sneaks in under the hobby. That's the only version I've managed to keep going through the bad months.
The NHS page makes a point I wish I'd heard earlier. Adults are advised to aim for about 150 minutes of moderate activity a week, but if you haven't exercised for a while, start gradually and build up. And they say even a brisk 10-minute walk can clear your mind. Ten minutes. Not a marathon.
So my rules now, such as they are:
- Pick something I'd want to do anyway, with movement as a side effect.
- Make the minimum stupidly small. Shoes on, out the door, ten minutes. If I do more, bonus.
- Missing a day doesn't cancel the week. Missing a week doesn't cancel the month.
- In winter, lower the bar again. Some movement beats none.
There's more about why the lakes and the trees matter for me in nature as a nervous-system reset.
What exercise won't do
I want to be careful here, because "just exercise" can turn into a way of blaming people for being sick.
It won't replace treatment for moderate or severe depression. It won't fix the reason you're anxious. If you're in a dark place, the walk can wait until you've talked to someone. A doctor, a psychologist, or in Québec your CLSC or 811. The Québec government's page on getting mental-health care lays out the steps, and the public services are free.
And if you're on medication, exercise doesn't mean you can drop it. Talk to your doctor or pharmacist before you change anything.
What exercise can do, in my experience, is give you a small handle to grab on a bad day. Proof the body still works, and a bit of air.
Some days that's all it is.