Look, I need to tell you about this cycle I'm stuck in. You probably know it if you have ADHD and take medication.
Before meds: "Ugh, I can't focus on anything. I've read this sentence seventeen times and still don't know what it says. Why can't I just... do things?"
Get meds: "WHOA. I CAN DO EVERYTHING. I SEE THE MATRIX. Wait, is this what normal people feel like all the time? This is insane. I'm going to reorganize my entire life starting with my sock drawer."
Then some time passes and inevitably...
Is this thing even doing anything? "I mean, I'm still me. Still distracted sometimes. Is taking this prescription amphetamine every single day going to destroy me long term? What if I'm just masking symptoms? What if my brain forgets how to make dopamine on its own?"
Stop taking meds: "Oh look, it's fine! I don't even need them. I'm totally functional. See? I can make breakfa—oh god I've been staring at this cereal box for twenty minutes and I still haven't eaten anything."
And then, inevitably: "Okay, well... back to it."
Right now? I'm sitting firmly in phase 3. That weird liminal space where I'm both taking my medicine AND feeling this odd pressure to take it as infrequently as possible. Like there's this voice in my head saying "this ADHD medicine will eventually be the death of me" while another voice says "it's probably not even doing anything."
It's not logical. It's just... there. This guilt? Fear? I'm not even sure what to call it. I just know that every morning when I take my little blue pill, there's this tiny voice asking "do you really need this, or are you just dependent on psychoactive drugs to function like a normal human?"
Fun times.
So naturally, this feels like the perfect time to drop the meds entirely and see if running can replace them.
The Great Running Experiment
Here's the plan: 7 days, 5 miles every morning, no Vyvanse. Can cardiovascular exercise give me the same focus, executive function, and general ability to exist in society that 20mg of prescription amphetamine does?
I'm hopeful, but deeply skeptical.
Why Running Might Actually Work (According to Science)
Before I dive into my week of suffering, let's talk about why this isn't completely insane.
Exercise, particularly aerobic exercise like running, does some genuinely impressive things for the ADHD brain:
Dopamine boost: Running increases dopamine availability in your brain. You know, that neurotransmitter that ADHD brains are chronically short on? The same one that Vyvanse artificially bumps up? Yeah, exercise does that naturally.
Norepinephrine increase: Same deal. Running triggers release of norepinephrine, which helps with focus and attention. It's basically the other half of what ADHD medications target.
BDNF production: Brain-Derived Neurotrophic Factor sounds made up, but it's real and it's basically Miracle-Gro for your brain. Exercise cranks it up, which helps with neuroplasticity, learning, and memory.
Prefrontal cortex activation: That part of your brain responsible for executive function, planning, and impulse control? Exercise fires it up like nothing else.
Immediate effect: Unlike some interventions that take weeks, the cognitive benefits of exercise hit pretty quickly. We're talking within an hour of finishing your run.
The research is actually pretty compelling. Multiple studies show that regular aerobic exercise can significantly improve ADHD symptoms, sometimes rivaling the effects of medication.
Sometimes.
Strava - Best App for Tracking Your ADHD Running Experiment
When you're trying to stick to a consistent running schedule with ADHD, you need something that makes tracking automatic and gives you that sweet, sweet dopamine hit of seeing your progress. Strava does exactly that. The social features add accountability (people can see if you skip days), the automatic tracking means no remembering to start/stop, and the data visualization is chef's kiss perfect for ADHD brains that need visual proof they're actually doing the thing.
Running vs. Vyvanse: A Totally Scientific Comparison
Let me break down what I'm comparing here:
20mg Vyvanse (my prescription):
- Kicks in: 30-60 minutes
- Lasts: 10-12 hours
- Effects: Laser focus, motivation appears from nowhere, suddenly capable of doing boring tasks
- Side effects: Dry mouth, decreased appetite, sometimes makes me weirdly intense about organizing things
- Cost: Depends on insurance, but not cheap
- Long-term concerns: Tolerance build-up, dependency, cardiovascular effects, the general "am I breaking my brain" anxiety
5 miles of running:
- Kicks in: Immediately after (sometimes during)
- Lasts: 2-4 hours of noticeable effect
- Effects: Mental clarity, reduced hyperactivity, better mood, that runner's high everyone won't shut up about
- Side effects: Tired legs, need to shower, suddenly very hungry, potential dehydration
- Cost: Free (well, shoes, but still)
- Long-term concerns: Joint wear, injury risk, time commitment (it takes way longer than swallowing a pill)
On paper? Not a fair fight. But maybe, just maybe, the benefits of natural dopamine regulation could make up for the shorter duration and physical demands.
Only one way to find out.
Day 1: The Honeymoon Phase
5:30 AM. I'm lacing up my shoes and trying to remember why I thought this was a good idea.
The first mile is always a lie. Your body's like "what are you doing to me" and your brain is screaming "GO BACK TO BED." But then something clicks around mile 2, and suddenly you're in the zone.
By mile 3, I'm thinking: "Oh damn, this might actually work."
I finish the run, shower, and sit down to work. And... I can focus? Not Vyvanse-level "I'm going to reorganize my entire digital filing system" focus, but genuine, productive, sustained attention.
The effect is different though. Less like someone turned on a focus laser and more like someone cleared away mental fog. My thoughts feel less scattered, less like fifty browser tabs all playing different videos at once.
Is it the endorphins? The sunlight exposure? The accomplishment of already doing something productive before most people are awake?
I don't know, but I'm riding this wave.
Day 1 verdict: Cautiously optimistic. Maybe I've been sleeping on this whole "exercise" thing.
Days 2-3: Building Momentum
Day 2 is harder to start but easier to finish. My legs are sore, but in that "I'm doing something good for my body" way, not the "I've made a terrible mistake" way.
The focus benefits are still there. If anything, they feel more consistent than Day 1. I'm starting to see why people become insufferable about their morning routines.
Day 3, I wake up before my alarm. My body's like "oh, we're doing this now? Cool." The run feels almost... meditative? I'm just moving, breathing, existing in this one moment, doing this one thing, and my ADHD brain that usually needs seventeen stimuli at once is just... okay with it.
This is the closest I've ever gotten to actually meditating. Turns out the secret for ADHD meditation is moving at 6 mph.
Work productivity is solid. I'm getting things done, staying on task, not falling down research rabbit holes that end with me knowing everything about some random topic I don't need to know about.
Days 2-3 verdict: Okay, I'm starting to believe the hype. Is running actually replacing my meds? Maybe?
Day 4: The Crash
I'm tired.
Not "I had a long day" tired. More like "my entire body is staging a protest" tired.
The run is hard. Every step feels heavy. Around mile 3, I start wondering if I'm dehydrated. Hawaii humidity is no joke, and I realize I've been treating this like casual exercise instead of the daily athletic event it actually is.
After the run, instead of feeling energized, I just feel... depleted. And my focus? Gone. Completely gone. I can barely string together a coherent paragraph.
I do some research (well, I try to research, but my attention span is shot) and find that for people with ADHD, becoming overly fatigued can actually make symptoms worse. Like, significantly worse.
The science is pretty clear: moderate exercise helps ADHD. But when you cross into the territory of overtraining or chronic fatigue, you're basically borrowing against your cognitive function account and the interest rates are brutal.
Also: dehydration. ADHD brains are apparently more sensitive to dehydration, and between the Hawaii heat and not properly replacing electrolytes, I've basically been running my brain on empty.
LMNT Electrolytes - Unflavored
If you're doing any kind of serious exercise with ADHD, you NEED to pay attention to electrolytes. Dehydration hits ADHD brains differently, and when you're sweating out salts in humid climates (looking at you, Hawaii), your focus can tank even faster. LMNT has the right ratio of sodium, potassium, and magnesium without any sugar or artificial sweeteners. The unflavored version is clutch because you can add it to literally anything without making it taste like a sports drink.
I start aggressively salting my water. Not even kidding—I'm adding LMNT packets to everything. The unflavored ones become my new best friend.
Day 4 verdict: This is harder than I thought. My body is tired. My brain is tired. Maybe I need to recalibrate.
Day 5: The Valley
This is the low point.
Everything hurts. My legs hurt. My brain hurts. I can't focus on anything. I'm getting the worst parts of being off meds (scattered attention, executive dysfunction) combined with the worst parts of overtraining (physical exhaustion, mental fog).
But I'm five days in. I need to know if this is possible. I need to know if the running is actually working or if I'm just torturing myself for no reason.
I drag myself through the run. It's not pretty. I'm moving, but calling it "running" is generous. More like aggressive shuffling.
Here's the thing though: even on Day 5, even feeling like absolute garbage, the run does help. Not as much as on Days 1-3, but there's still that mental clarity afterward. That reduction in hyperactivity. That feeling of having accomplished something before the sun is fully up.
The research backs this up. Even when you're tired, even when exercise feels hard, it's still doing good things for ADHD brains. The dopamine boost still happens. The increased blood flow to the prefrontal cortex still happens. It's just fighting against a lot more fatigue.
So can running replace ADHD medication? At this exact moment, on Day 5, while I'm sitting here unable to focus on work and seriously reconsidering all my life choices?
Probably not.
But it's doing something.
Day 5 verdict: I want to quit. But I'm going to see this through.
Day 6: Trudging Through
I'm not going to lie to you—Day 6 isn't some magical breakthrough where everything gets better.
But it's also not Day 5.
My body is starting to adapt. I've figured out the electrolyte situation. I'm hydrating properly, getting enough sleep, and not pushing quite as hard on the runs.
The focus benefits are back, but more measured. More sustainable. Less "I CAN DO ANYTHING" and more "I can do the things I need to do today."
And honestly? That's kind of the point, isn't it?
I'm starting to realize that I've been comparing running to the peak effects of Vyvanse—that honeymoon period when you first start taking it and it feels like magic. But the reality of daily medication use is more subtle than that. It's not about superhuman focus; it's about baseline functionality.
Running is giving me baseline functionality. It's just requiring a lot more work to maintain it.
Day 6 verdict: Coming out of the valley. Starting to see the bigger picture.
Day 7: The Reckoning
Final day. 5 miles. One last time before I make my decision.
And here's what I've realized:
Running and ADHD medication aren't doing the same thing. They're not even playing the same game.
Vyvanse is specific, targeted, pharmaceutical intervention. It's adjusting neurotransmitter levels in precise ways to address specific ADHD symptoms. It's a scalpel.
Running is holistic, systemic, whole-body intervention. It's improving overall brain health, cardiovascular function, mood regulation, and yes, some ADHD symptoms. It's changing your entire system. It's more like... renovating your whole house.
Can enough exercise replace precisely prescribed medication that was specifically tailored to my neurology after years of working with doctors?
No. That's like asking if renovating your house can replace your glasses. They're solving different problems in different ways.
But can exercise help? Can it be a crucial part of managing ADHD alongside medication?
Absolutely. Way more than I thought.
What I Actually Learned
Here's the truth: over these seven days, I did get closer to "meditating" with ADHD than I ever have before. Running became this thing I could do with total focus, and that focus and executive function did carry over into the rest of my day.
The benefits were real:
- Better sleep (exhaustion helps, who knew)
- More mental clarity, especially in the mornings
- Reduced hyperactivity and restlessness
- Better mood overall
- That satisfying feeling of taking care of my body
- Genuine moments of being able to just... exist in the moment
But the challenges were also real:
- It takes WAY more time than taking a pill (45+ minutes for the run plus shower vs. 30 seconds for medication)
- The effects don't last as long (2-4 hours vs. 10-12 hours)
- It requires perfect conditions: enough sleep, proper hydration, not being injured, good weather
- The cognitive benefits plateau and even reverse if you overdo it
- You can't just "run harder" to focus more—it doesn't scale like that
The biggest surprise? How much the morning sunlight exposure mattered. Getting outside first thing, getting that natural light, regulating my circadian rhythm—that did as much for my ADHD as the running itself. Maybe more.
So... Can Running Replace ADHD Medication?
No.
But that's the wrong question.
The right question is: "Can running be a powerful tool for managing ADHD symptoms alongside medication, therapy, and other interventions?"
Yes. Absolutely. 100%.
Exercise isn't going to replace your meds. But it might let you take a lower dose. It might reduce side effects. It might give you more good days and fewer bad ones. It might be the thing that tips you from "barely functioning" to "actually thriving."
For me? I'm going back on the Vyvanse. The cycle continues.
But I'm keeping the running. Because it turns out that when you combine targeted pharmaceutical intervention with regular exercise, proper sleep, good hydration, and morning sunlight exposure, you get something better than either one alone.
You get a fighting chance at actually managing this thing.
And honestly? After years of the medication cycle, of the guilt and the fear and the wondering if I'm doing the right thing, I'll take every advantage I can get.
Time to go take my little blue pill. And also lace up my running shoes.
Because it's not about replacing one with the other. It's about using every tool in the toolkit.
See you out there on the trails. ✌️
