
Today is day 2,055 of my consecutive running streak. 15,904.74km covered. 24,170.26km still ahead toward a full lap of the world. And today's run gave me the space to think about something I don't talk about enough: ADHD and mental fatigue.
I am self-diagnosed with ADHD. I am confident about it. I have a doctor's appointment lined up to seek formal confirmation, but the honest reason I haven't done it sooner is straightforward. I have always considered myself high-functioning. I found ways to work alongside what ADHD brings. The relentless drive. The hyperfocus when something genuinely matters. The restless forward energy. Those things have served me well across the years.
But the older I get, the more I feel the other side of it. Mental fatigue.
Not physical fatigue from the miles, though that is real too. I mean the kind of tiredness built from a mind working at full capacity, every hour, every day, for years. A mind that does not easily switch off. A mind that starts processing before the alarm has even sounded.
From the moment I wake up, my thoughts are running at full speed. Not in a clean, organised way. More like 1,001 open tabs loading simultaneously. What needs doing today. What people expect from me. What I promised yesterday. What I need to prepare for. Before I have made a cup of tea, my brain has clocked up hours of processing time.
For anyone with ADHD who is reading this, I suspect some of that lands with recognition.
The particular challenge for high-functioning people with ADHD is worth naming clearly. The same traits that make you productive also make you exhausting to be, for yourself. You hold a great deal. You process at speed. You push hard. But there is a cost, and the bill tends to arrive in the afternoon.
For me, by mid to late afternoon, I am spent. Not in the way you might expect after a long run or a physically demanding day. Spent in the way a device drains when too many processes have been running in the background all day. The screen dims. The response slows. And for me, that now means falling asleep for a short period, almost every single afternoon.
I have stopped fighting it. I have factored a power nap into my daily routine because it serves a real purpose. My mind needs a short reset to function through the evening hours. Without it, I am less focused, less patient, and less effective. With it, I come back sharper. So the nap stays.
I want to be clear on this point. Not everyone with ADHD finds sleep straightforward. A significant number of people with ADHD struggle with sleep generally, so a power nap as a management strategy will not work for everyone. What works for me is personal to my situation.
Running has been the other tool. There is something about the physical effort, the rhythm, the necessity of putting one foot in front of the other, barefoot-style on real ground, for real distance, that quietens the noise for a period. After a run, I tend to feel more settled. More grounded. My mind has had something concrete to chase rather than an abstract to-do list.
But running is not a cure. On the most demanding days, when the mental load has been at its heaviest, completing my streak still leaves me fatigued. The intensity of what the day asked from me has not been cancelled out by the miles. What the run does is take the edge off. Make things more manageable. Provide perspective.
And perspective is the thing high-functioning people with ADHD often need most. Because the internal expectation is almost always set too high. I will plan a day's output that would be impressive for a small team. I work at pace, I make progress, I feel like it is not enough, and I arrive at the end of the day disappointed, despite having achieved more than most people around me. That pattern of unrealistic expectation meeting manufactured disappointment is something I recognise in myself and something I am still working through.
If you believe you have ADHD, or you have been formally diagnosed, there are a few things worth sitting with.
First, understanding your mind works harder than the average mind means your fatigue is proportionate to that effort. Feeling worn out mid-afternoon is not weakness. It is your mind having done more work than those around you to get through the same day.
Second, the traits that come with ADHD are assets when channelled correctly. The challenge is learning to channel them sustainably, not at full capacity until you collapse.
Some people choose medication. I have not gone down that route. Not because I am dismissing it for others, but because my approach has been to build a life structure that manages the condition without it. Daily running. A fixed routine. Power naps when I need them. Systems that reduce the mental overhead of constant decision-making. A streak of 2,055 days and counting, because a fixed daily non-negotiable is deeply stabilising for an ADHD mind.
Which brings everything back to the mission.
2,055 consecutive days. 15,904.74km covered toward 40,075km, a full lap of the world on foot. Barefoot-style. Raising £1 million for children's causes, including Great Ormond Street Hospital and BBC Children in Need. Every single day, regardless of how my mind feels when I wake up.
The streak is the anchor. When everything else feels scattered, I know what I have to do. I go and do it. And for a mind that fights routine and gets overwhelmed by open-ended choices, that single daily commitment has been one of the most grounding things in my life.
If any of this resonates, leave a comment below. I respond to everything relevant. And if you believe in the mission, a share, a like, a follow, or a visit to the fundraising page matters more than you might think.
Thank you for being part of this.
Watch the full episode: https://youtu.be/bSzyDyON4uc





