I've been jogging sporadically since college. It always seemed to coincide with relationship troubles of one sort of another, and something about being alone on the road allowed me to just pound it out. For me, even when I was upset about something and having comparatively cyclic thoughts, after running a few miles, they would start to lose their power.
I stopped running when I started working nights and taking classes. It just seemed like there was no time. I was either working, studying, taking care of MiniMan, or sleeping.
Between the tricyclic antidepressants, a bunch of other meds, working nights, and eating more than I really needed to I managed to gain about 30 pounds. My husband was never critical about it or seemed to love me less because of it, but it made me feel gross. I was uncomfortable in my own body. I had a closet full of clothes that didn't fit.
When I started going back to work and was feeling a little better, I started eating better and exercising a little bit. This helped. I didn't really start losing weight until I found out that my husband had been cheating on me with a nurse who he worked with, though. Although I wouldn't really recommend this as a weight-loss tactic, I am convinced that there is no appetite suppressant that compares! Really. I remember finding out and bolting. I just started running, in the middle of the night, into nowhere.