The longer story — and what I offer

I was born in sunny Southern California and didn’t wear a long-sleeved shirt until we moved to the drizzly Pacific Northwest. Holy smokes—I cried putting on a hoodie for the first time. That early sunshine gave me a spark I carried into life and medicine. But the light dimmed during my residency at Johns Hopkins. Depression and sleep deprivation led to an SSRI prescription that worked at first, but eventually launched me into a dangerous hypomania.

When you wake up at 1 a.m., ride 100 miles in the dark, sneak home before your wife notices, then head into a 36-hour hospital shift—you know you’re in trouble. I was.

After being diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I found stability through medication, therapy, exercise, music, meditation, friendship, family, and the incredible support of my wife. Running and cycling became essential—though no more “Midnight Centuries.” Still, I carried deep shame and isolation. When my psychiatrist said, “There are so many scientists and doctors at Hopkins with bipolar, Jud—you’re in good company,” I believed him, but, unfortunately I didn’t know any of them. I felt like I had no one to talk with who understood me. So, I tucked my diagnosis away and pressed forward as a pediatrician and eventually health tech leader.

The tension between endurance sport as grounding force and as fuel for turbulent mental health has been a constant back and forth in my life. In low-grade depression, balance means grinding through a rainy five-miler. At my best, it’s a 100 mile mountainous ultra race or a long distance cross country mountain bike event. Not record-breaking feats, but proof of survival, love for the outdoors, tenacity, and persistence in the face of mental health challenges.

When I began a Master’s degree in sports-focused Performance Coaching (Applied Sports Psychology), things really clicked. I realized the same tools athletes use—goal-setting, visualization, flow—could also be applied to your mental health (Turning-Point Realization #1). I use these strategies to manage my own mental health symptoms and to help others with anxiety, depression, bipolar, ADHD, PTSD, and other MH conditions.

Even more profoundly, I began to see mental health conditions—my own included—not just as obstacles, but as sources of strength when harnessed correctly. Over time, I learned to harness the energy and lessons of bipolar disorder to enhance performance and fulfillment in sport (Turning-Point Realization #2). My stigma dissolved as I embraced persistence, resilience, and deep connection as gifts from this journey.

Whatever your athletic or mental health path, I invite you to join the conversation at The Balanced Athlete where I write on Substack and am building community. We may be imperfect and imbalanced, but together we can find strength in the journey chasing the center.