From Rugby Boots to Muddy Trails – How Movement Became My Mental Reset

I’ve always loved sports. From a young age, I was the kid who couldn’t sit still; I was happiest when running, tackling, or chasing a ball. Competitive rugby carried me through my teens and twenties, and even after I hung up my boots, I never stopped moving. Jogging became my steady companion. I dabbled in rowing (spoiler: I was terrible) and played touch rugby, though fear of injury started to creep in. Back then, I never thought about movement as medicine. It was just something I did for fitness, to spend time with friends, and for the sheer thrill of it.

It wasn’t until over a decade later, when I welcomed Pip, my high-energy border collie, into my life, that I discovered movement’s deeper power. Pip needed more than a stroll. She needed purpose, pace, and partnership. That’s when I found Canicross: running off-road with your dog, side by side, stride for stride.

Canicross is joyful, muddy, and surprisingly emotional. Pip and I run as a team. We’ve been training together for over a year now, and the bond we’ve built is unlike anything I’ve known. She pulls me out of the house on days when I feel flat, stressed, or tired, and when I think I can’t do it. She reminds me that movement isn’t about performance. It’s about consistency, connection, and presence.

That’s the shift I’ve come to treasure most. Movement has become my counterbalance to the demands and emotional intensity of work, especially on days when the mental load feels heavy. It’s how I reset after a challenging meeting, clear my head after a long, busy day, and reconnect with myself when things feel heavy. The rhythm of running, especially with Pip leading the way, is grounding, energising, and deeply restorative.

I’ve also found a community. Canicross is full of like-minded, supportive people who show up for each other, not just to run, but to talk, to listen, and to be there. You don’t have to be a runner to start. You just have to move. And sometimes, that’s the most powerful thing you can do.

This month, Pip and I will take part in our first tag-team Canicross race. I’m nervous, excited, and have a flicker of fear about letting fellow teammates (better runners than us) down. But whatever the outcome, it will be a new step Pip and I will take. A celebration of movement, connection, and showing up for each other. And that, for me, is what mental health is all about.