Be Where Your Feet Are: Rachel McKinney’s Path to the Starting Line

Running can get such a bad rap when we’re young. And that can be hard to shake when we grow up.

Like many former high school athletes, Rachel McKinney once associated running with punishment, a consequence of when you weren’t meeting a coach’s expectations [editor’s note: a soccer coach once made my varsity team run immediately after a game because we hadn’t won by enough]. It was something to be endured rather than enjoyed, a form of discipline rather than a foundation for fitness and empowerment.

Something to avoid.

Thankfully, that association came crashing down in adulthood, when Rachel needed running the most—even if she didn’t quite know that at the time.

Breaking through the challenges

“I first noticed symptoms of mental illness during college,” Rachel says. Triggered when earlier trauma resurfaced, the impact of this psychological shift was profound, affecting every aspect of her life and leading to unhealthy coping mechanisms, including self-harm. Living with a complex combination of challenges—borderline personality disorder, bipolar disorder, panic disorder, and post-traumatic stress disorder—her daily life became a constant battle with unpredictable moods that seemed to have a mind of their own.

“I had difficulty maintaining stability; in relationships, in jobs, and in dealing with stressors in my life,” she shares. For those with borderline personality disorder in particular, this kind of emotional turbulence can be especially challenging, often leading to binary thinking patterns that make it difficult to find middle ground in a difficult situation. “I felt hopeless and like I was damaged at the core,” Rachel recalls of this period.

A turning point came when she began learning Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), a treatment originally created for patients with chronic self-harm and suicidal behaviors who don’t respond well to medication or other conventional treatments. “DBT has four modules: mindfulness, interpersonal effectiveness, emotion regulation, and distress tolerance,” Rachel explains. “Even by their names, you can see how it can benefit someone who has problems dealing with stress and overwhelm—all of those things are really helpful to me.”

The mindfulness aspect of DBT, in particular, became integral to Rachel’s ongoing recovery. “I heard a quote that helps me think of mindfulness: ‘If you’re living in the past, you’re depressed; if you’re living in the future, you’re anxious; and if you're living in the moment, you can be at peace.”

She’s found that this principle translates perfectly to running. “Be where your feet are. I could be in my head torturing myself with thoughts of regrets or worries of the future, or I could be with my feet on this trail taking steps. Even if I had a stressful day, I could be in the leaves, walking amongst nature. Mindfulness helps running feel like a respite.”

Finding her people

Running’s emergence as a positive force in Rachel’s life began with a simple web search. “I honestly googled ‘running for mental health,’” she recalls. “I found some articles explaining the benefits of movement and its effects on the brain, but I truly did not know where to begin. It felt overwhelming. I needed support, encouragement, and expertise.”

What Rachel found was Still I Run, and a group of people that would change her perspective on not just running, but also her own capabilities. The inclusive nature of the group resonated particularly strongly with her: “The Still I Run community made me feel like, okay, you are a runner, even if you’re run-walking.”

“I love the belief there that everyone’s journey adds value,” she says. “I tried a popular functional fitness regimen a couple of years ago, and discovered that some communities may not be as welcoming if you don’t meet a certain standard or fitness level,” she reflects. “It’s been the opposite with running and this group—I love Still I Run’s motto of ‘Forward is a Pace.’ It makes everyone feel included, regardless of where they are in their journey.”

The starting line is just the start

In August, Rachel attempted a 5K but wasn’t able to finish. “I didn’t have the fitness to go rogue on race day and with the excitement and everyone taking off, I did not stick to my own pace,” she remembers. “I basically crashed and burned about a mile and a half in.”

Rather than letting that race experience defeat her, she used it as motivation and channeled that into applying for Still I Run’s Starting Line Scholarship, a program designed to remove barriers from recipients’ running for their mental health. Rachel received not just financial support for race entry and gear, but also something intangible that was equally valuable: tailored guidance and encouragement.

“I applied for the scholarship because I knew I needed help to achieve my 5K goal. But it ended up teaching me that I can achieve bigger goals than I realized were possible,” she says. “It taught me to challenge myself and to adapt to the challenges that come along with preparation and training.”

The program provided her with a coach who taught her vital lessons, including how to modify her training and races when necessary. “If you aren’t able to do what you planned, do what you can,” she recalls learning. “We can stick to what we’re doing and do it however we’re able to.” This approach was particularly helpful for Rachel, who notes that people with her diagnosis tend to have an all-or-nothing way of thinking. “That was a big takeaway for me—that it doesn’t have to be just pass or fail. It doesn't have to be black and white. There are shades in between.”

Triumph at the Turkey Dash

Rachel’s hard work was finally put to the test this past November at the Nakon Foundation Turkey Dash 5K in Avon, Ohio. “I had always admired the type of people who get up early on Thanksgiving to run a turkey trot. It seemed like the type of thing a healthy person with healthy habits would do, but I just didn’t think that could be me!”

On race day, Rachel approached the starting line with a strategy she derived from her previous race experience: she positioned herself between the fields of runners and walkers, knowing her pace would fall somewhere in-between. As the race progressed, she found herself in her own space, checking her watch periodically, but mainly focusing on maintaining a sustainable pace.

She completed the race in 53:41, an achievement that meant far more than just a finish time. “To some people, a 5K seems like not a big deal. And to some people, it feels like a huge, insurmountable obstacle,” she says. “Before this, I had to take breaks walking the mile-long pier where I live on Lake Erie. The fact that I was able to conquer a 5K with the support I had really made a lasting impact on me.”

Crossing the finish line was a particularly meaningful moment for Rachel, with her wife there capturing it on video. “We hugged. It was emotional,” she says. “Now I feel like I walked away with not just a new coping skill, but I’m also better equipped to grow. If I want to do a 10K eventually or just want to beat my time in a 5K, I learned how to train and reach out for support.”

“I truly believe this is just the beginning of my running journey. It has built up my confidence and self-efficacy, because I have proven to myself that I can do hard things. That’s a lesson I will carry through to other facets of my life.”

With several races planned for the upcoming year, including a chance at “revenge” on the 5K she didn’t finish, Rachel is excited to continue developing as a runner. “Because I wasn’t a typically fit person and exercise was not something I did my whole life, I thought maybe running’s not for me,” she says. “It might not look exactly how I had pictured or how it ‘should look,’ but we're taking the steps. Forward is a pace.”