Bias isn’t a dirty word. It’s a reality. We all have it, shaped by our experiences, environments, and the narratives we’ve been fed. Bias is what makes people believe therapy must be a formal, clinical process. It’s what makes them scoff at the idea that running can be just as healing—if not more so—than sitting in a therapist’s office.
But bias isn’t just an obstacle. It’s an opportunity.
When someone clings to the idea that “running isn’t therapy,” what they’re really saying is: Healing only counts if it follows the Western, clinical model of care. They’re revealing how deeply we’ve been conditioned to believe that therapy must be standardized, billable, and validated by institutions that were never built to include everyone.
It’s not that these people are wrong—it’s that their understanding of healing is incomplete.
Where Bias Comes From and Why People Hold Onto It
Bias is like a well-worn trail. It’s comfortable, familiar, and easy to follow. It tells us that if something has been framed as “the right way” for long enough, it must be true. People don’t cling to bias because they’re bad—they do it because it’s easier than stepping into uncertainty.
Western psychology has dominated the conversation around mental health for centuries, positioning talk therapy and pharmacology as the gold standards of healing. In doing so, it has dismissed and devalued the ways other cultures have always healed. Indigenous communities, for example, have long known that movement, connection, and nature are essential to emotional and spiritual well-being. But because these practices weren’t written into textbooks or attached to research grants, they were ignored—or worse, discredited.
This is why the phrase “running isn’t therapy” is so much more than a casual dismissal. It’s a statement loaded with the weight of colonial history. It upholds the belief that therapy must be contained within four walls, facilitated by a licensed expert, and neatly categorized into Western frameworks. Anything outside of that? Just a “coping mechanism.” Just a way to “clear your head.”
Bias makes people resistant to the idea that healing can be found in movement, because acknowledging that truth would require them to rethink everything they’ve been taught about mental health. And that’s uncomfortable.
Therapy as a System vs. Therapy as a Concept
Here’s the thing: Therapy, in its purest form, isn’t the problem. But therapy as a system? That’s where the cracks show.
Therapy is deeply entangled with capitalism and colonialism. It’s structured in a way that requires payment, regulation, and validation from Western institutions. It turns mental health into something you purchase rather than something you cultivate. And it fails to acknowledge that for many people—especially BIPOC, working-class individuals, and those in marginalized communities—healing has always existed outside of these structures.
When someone insists that running “isn’t therapy,” they’re not just dismissing movement as a tool for healing. They’re reinforcing the idea that mental health must be approached in a way that is institutional, clinical, and transactional.
And that’s where we need to push back.
Why Running Is Therapy
For many people, running isn’t just about fitness. It’s about survival. It’s about feeling something they can’t put into words. It’s about moving through grief, trauma, and anxiety in a way that therapy—limited by language and structure—often cannot replicate.
Science backs this up, but let’s be real: People knew movement was healing long before researchers put it into peer-reviewed journals. Running regulates the nervous system, releases stored trauma, builds resilience, and creates space for clarity. It’s not a replacement for therapy—it’s its own form of therapy.
The reason this idea faces so much pushback is because it disrupts the status quo. It challenges the belief that healing must be mediated by institutions rather than experienced organically. It forces people to confront their own bias around what counts as “real” therapy—and for some, that’s a scary thing to admit.
Bias Isn’t the Enemy—But Refusing to Examine It Is
We all have bias. The real question is: What do we do with it?
Do we let it keep us in our comfort zones, clinging to outdated narratives? Or do we use it as an invitation to learn, to expand our perspectives, to acknowledge that other ways of being—other ways of healing—are just as valid as the ones we’re used to?
Bias isn’t a wall. It’s a door. And stepping through it means recognizing that healing is bigger than Western institutions, bigger than clinical definitions, bigger than the structures we’ve been told are the only paths to mental wellness.
Running is therapy. And if that challenges your beliefs, maybe it’s time to ask why.