It was a beautiful day on Crissy Field. The sun shone brightly illuminating the span of the Golden Gate Bridge. She stared intently at the bridge. I couldn’t quite read what she was feeling, but it was non-trivial.

‘This is a big deal for me,’ she finally said.

I knew her name. But, that was about it. I assumed Briana was referring to the number of miles we’d be covering that day.

‘I know. It’s a big deal for most. You won’t be alone.’ I replied.

‘The last time I was on the bridge, they had to pull me off,’ she said.

Her face turned dark and tears welled up in her eyes. She choked up. A few tears rolled down her cheeks.

I was staggered. I’d been sucker punched. I couldn’t muster a response.

She took a deep breath, exhaled, and a few more tears ran down her face. She quickly wiped them away. Her pain ran deep.

I had to respond. I needed her to know that I might know a little about the darkness she faced. But, I suspected her darkness dwarfed anything I had confronted.

I struggled. The words weren’t coming. The pause became painfully pregnant.

The deafening silence was becoming more than awkward. I had to muster something. Something vague and vaguely half-baked crystallized.

‘Well, this time it’s going to be a different experience. This will be a life affirming experience. This will be a palate cleansing.

You also won’t be doing this by yourself. You will be in good company. You won’t be alone.’ I said.

A chord might have been struck. She smiled through her tears and shook her head. I didn’t know if my words helped, but it didn’t appear they had harmed.

I didn’t know her, but I knew running would help her. She smiled a bit behind her tears and nodded quietly. Five minutes prior, I knew nothing of her.

Now, I knew more about her than I needed to know. I also likely knew more than a lot of people knew about her. I knew she was deeply troubled.

I knew she had dealt with many dark nights of the soul. I knew she tried to take her own life. But, why she chose to share this part of herself with me I don’t really know.

Maybe she could tell I battled demons of my own. Maybe she knew I had endured a few dark nights of the soul as well. Maybe she knew I would understand her and wouldn’t judge her.

Sometimes, I think people who’ve spent time on the dark side can smell it in others; like how a dog smells fear. Sometimes you just know.

Mercifully, a few runners arrived breaking some of the tension. My assistant coach arrived. I quickly pulled him aside.

I gave him the high level. I asked him to keep an eye on her when we traveled across the bridge. I had no real fear she would try anything today, but I wasn’t taking any chances. We headed out towards the bridge.

Memories of my time on the dark side came wafting in. I’m not sure exactly when I first battled depression, but I think it might have been in eighth grade. I remember feeling markedly uncomfortable in my own skin.

I didn’t really want to be around anyone. I went to class. I did what was required. I structured my days to minimize contact with others.

I spent any/all free time in the library. I read a lot that year. I’d escape every day into a different world, an alternate universe, anywhere but here.

When I got home from school, it was much of the same. I’d often skip my homework. I’d crack open whatever I was reading and escape again. I loved to read.

But, this was about more than a love of books. I was running away from something. I was trying to escape the darkness.

At that age, I didn’t know what depression was. But, I was exhibiting a few symptoms. Social discomfort, anxiety, dark thoughts, and anhedonia were a few of them. It was a bit more than garden-variety adolescent angst.

While I’d asked Toby to keep an eye on Briana, I was watching her too. She was about 300 meters in front of me as we made our way through the initial mile. I planned on keeping her in close proximity.

She wasn’t alone. Runners were in front and behind her. I really didn’t expect anything to happen. But, I’ve learned not to take much for granted.

I got through eighth grade without major incident. I read innumerable books along the way. The darkness seemed to subside a bit as I entered high school.

But, it never really went away entirely. I frequently battled low level anxiety, dark thoughts, and social discomfort in ninth grade. It wasn’t debilitating.

But, I was aware of it. It lingered in dark corners and shadows. I always thought it might return.

Then, running entered my life. After battling through the first few weeks of training, I discovered the runner’s high. Everything changed.

The anxiety would disappear (if only temporarily). The dark thoughts surfaced far less frequently. I felt comfortable in my own skin far more frequently. I even felt confident sometimes.

Running seemed to be a salve of sorts. I didn’t know why. All I knew was the darkness seemed to retreat when I ran. But, just like at the end of any good horror film, you’re left wondering if the masked killer or monster will return.

We made our way onto the bridge. Briana was still well within eyeshot. I wondered what had made her decide to do it here. The Golden Gate Bride is awe-inspiring. It provides no shortage of incredible views.

It would seem to inspire hope. I would think it would help vanquish despair. But, I couldn’t possibly know what her kind of darkness looked like. I’d never contemplated suicide, but I’d contemplated not being around.

These first scary thoughts of not being around bubbled to the surface when I was in college. They were accompanied by marked social discomfort. I’d felt some of this before in middle school and high school. But, this was different.

I largely stayed in my room behind a closed door. The idea of venturing outside my room, let alone into the outside world was terrifying. Surely, anyone/everyone would see how fucked up I really was. They’d see the dark thoughts rattling around in my head.

These thoughts kept me awake at night. They woke me up in the middle of the night on the rare occasion I succumbed to sleep. I couldn’t escape them.

I’d managed to escape the darkness for the most of high school in large part because of running. The release of natural anti-depressants from the runner’s high kept it at bay. Meditative long runs quieted my mind.

But, I veered away from running in college. I was somehow blind to the impact this would have. Without the calming influence of running in my life, things changed. The darkness I’d always feared returned. It was much worse this time.

Briana continued across the bridge without incident. I didn’t have my eyes on her the entire time. But, they never strayed too far from her.

I caught up with her on the way back. Gone was the sadness and tears. Her face was bright and she wore a radiant smile.

It had only taken a few miles to (temporarily) exorcise her demons. For a few miles, Briana was the best version of herself. She was happy, smiling, and alive.

I even managed to coax a few laughs out of her with some mediocre jokes. We cruised along the bridge together until she was safely across. Then, I let her go.

I was relieved to see her smiling at the end of the run chatting with some fellow runners. I wondered if she would tell any of them what she told me. I also wondered if I would see her again.

Desperate to rid myself of the darkness that had taken up residence again, I found myself sitting uncomfortably in a leather chair across from a woman I’d never met. I tried to get a few words out and choked up. Then, the tears came.

Our first few sessions were little more than this. I cried. She listened. I tried to talk about what was afflicting me. Rinse. Repeat.

Finally, she suggested Prozac. I didn’t like the idea of being on medication. I thought I could pull myself out of the abyss on my own.

But, talking wasn’t enough. I had become a ghost. I drifted aimlessly through life.

I enjoyed nothing. I saw no one and I could barely handle my own company. I was scared of what I might do.

I would see Briana again. She showed up the following week for another run with us. I was relieved.

She didn’t revisit what she’d disclosed the previous week. But, she did share more of herself with me. It seemed she was moving away from the darkness that had led her to the bridge those many months ago.

She used to be obese. She’d lost a ton of weight. She was looking forward to running a half marathon. She also had plans to go skydiving. Her radiant smile made many appearances that morning.