The Burnout Blueprint
You’re Overtrained, Under-Recovered, or Just Mentally Exhausted
Coach Janelle
Coach Janelle
For years, I believed the harder I worked, the stronger I’d become. Every early alarm, every hard workout, every mile logged was supposed to take me closer to the runner I wanted to be. And for a while, it did.
In 2021, I was in the best shape of my life, personal bests, strength, confidence, momentum. But what I didn’t see coming was how quickly that drive could turn into destruction.
In 2022, I was training for my second marathon in Mississauga. I had a nutrition coach, a solid plan, and a deep belief that a huge PB was waiting for me. But soon my long runs and speed sessions started to feel different. Not the usual muscle burn, I was experiencing deeper, sharper pain. Something was wrong.
After years of shin issues, I finally had X-rays and bone scans done. The result: double stress fractures in both tibias.
I was told I could still run the marathon if I managed the pain and reduced my load. My coach even told me not to tell anyone. In hindsight, that was my first red flag.
At the same time, I was working in a toxic environment where I was bullied, undermined, and forced into a new role while still carrying the responsibilities of the old one. I was doing the work of two people, and I was unraveling. My IBS was flaring, I was exhausted, and yet I kept pushing forward because that’s what I’d always done.
When I flew to Mississauga, I was barely holding it together.
At the start line of the Mississauga Marathon 2022
After the marathon, I took four weeks off to heal. When I started running again, everything felt impossible. My chest hurt. My breathing was shallow. My heart rate spiked on easy runs. I’d crumble to the ground after just 3 km, gasping for air, crying, wondering how I’d fallen so far.
Then came the moment at work, the one that changed everything. I broke down crying in front of my coworkers, something I’d never done before. The response I got?
“You just need to go for a run.”
The one thing that had always saved me was now the one thing I couldn’t do.
That’s when I finally went to my doctor. We talked about anxiety, depression, and overtraining. For the first time, I was told something that went against every instinct I had:
“You need to exercise less.”
So, I did the hardest thing I’ve ever done: I quit running.
Saying those words out loud shattered me. I had to sit in my car for 30 minutes before track workouts just to work up the courage to run in front of people. When panic hit mid-run, I’d fake an injury so no one would see what was really happening.
Hiding is one of burnout’s cruelest symptoms.
Over time, the anxiety spilled into everyday life, even simple tasks like picking up groceries. One day, I had a full panic attack in my car. My chest tightened, my heart raced, tears streamed down my face. I tried every grounding tool I could remember, finally running my fingers along the stitching of my steering wheel just to focus my mind on something tangible.
That was the moment I knew this wasn’t just stress. My body wasn’t betraying me, it was begging me to listen.
With my doctor’s help, I started therapy, medication, and rest. My husband and I made a small ritual out of tough days where we’d drive 45 minutes out of the city and hit the trails, even if just for half an hour. We didn’t need to talk. Just being in nature felt like returning home in my head.
Trail running became my mindfulness practice. I wasn’t chasing pace or distance; I was chasing peace. Every step forced me into the present moment, watching where I placed my feet, listening for wildlife, breathing in the stillness.
Exactly one year after I said “I quit,” I ran my first ultra. It was the happiest race of my life, not because it was easy, but because it was free of pressure. I felt strong, calm, and alive. I called it my year of transformation.
Burnout isn’t just mental fatigue, it’s full-body depletion. When stress (physical or emotional) becomes chronic, it keeps cortisol: the body’s primary stress hormone; elevated. That constant alert state disrupts sleep, digestion, hormone regulation, and recovery.
Your body doesn’t separate “work stress” from “training stress.” To your nervous system, stress is stress.
Overtraining and emotional burnout often overlap:
Overtraining happens when your body can’t recover from physical stress.
Burnout happens when your brain can’t recover from emotional or psychological stress.
Most runners live somewhere in between: under-recovered.
Research shows that chronic stress can reduce heart-rate variability, suppress the immune system, and trigger GI issues like IBS. It can also affect neurotransmitters that regulate mood, explaining why burnout and anxiety often go hand in hand.
If any of this feels familiar, you’re not alone. Here are some of the red flags I wish I’d recognized sooner:
Physical signs:
Frequent injuries or recurring niggles
Constant fatigue, heavy legs, or poor recovery
Elevated resting heart rate
Unexplained weight changes or inability to lose weight
GI issues (IBS, bloating, nausea)
Sleep disturbances
Mental & emotional signs:
Loss of motivation or joy in training
Anxiety before runs or workouts
Crying spells, irritability, or emotional outbursts
Feeling “numb” or detached from your sport
Hiding pain or emotions from others
Panic or chest tightness during runs
Life stress signs:
High workload or toxic environments
Feeling like rest is “lazy”
Constantly trying to control outcomes (nutrition, training, work)
Over-identifying as “the runner” and losing sense of self outside of it
Healing starts when you stop ignoring your body’s whispers before they become screams.
For me, that meant rest, therapy, medication, and mindful movement. For you, it might mean talking to your doctor, rethinking your training load, or reaching out for help.
If you’re struggling, please know there are resources available:
Bigger Than The Trail – offers free access to mental-health counselling for all, not just athletes.
Wellness Together Canada – free mental-health and substance-use support available nationwide.
Canadian Mental Health Association (CMHA) – local chapters provide community-based counselling and education.
“You don’t need to earn your rest. You need to honour it.”
Today, I run more than ever, five ultras this year, my longest 102 km; and I’m the least injured I’ve ever been. The difference? I listen. Not just to my legs, but to my mind and my emotions.
Burnout taught me that success isn’t about how hard you can push, it’s about how well you can listen.
If you’re feeling drained, unmotivated, or anxious, it’s not weakness, it’s information. Your body is speaking. This time, let’s listen.