How to Reconnect With Your Body After Injury, Burnout, or Life Changes.

Real, gentle guidance from someone who gets it.

There was a time in my life when I felt unstoppable. I was training for a marathon, crushing back-to-back half marathons, and in the best shape I'd ever been. I felt strong, capable, and totally in tune with my body. Then everything changed.

After one too many long runs, I noticed a dull ache in my hip. I ignored it at first—like so many of us do when we're caught up in the momentum of training. But it didn’t go away. Instead, it turned out to be a femoral hip fracture, a serious injury that left me on bed rest for six months.

Six. Months.
No walking.
No driving.
No independence.
Just pain—deep, unrelenting pain—and a heavy fog of hopelessness.

I lost everything that made me feel like me. My strength, my routine, my freedom. I felt trapped in my body, and worse, like it had betrayed me. There were days I truly couldn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. I spiraled into a cycle of frustration and sadness that felt impossible to escape.

But I knew I couldn’t live there forever.

I decided to take one small step. Then another. I started going to Pilates—gently, slowly. I began walking more, even if it was just around the block. I started swimming at the YMCA. I couldn’t do much. The breaststroke was exhausting. I couldn’t hold a plank for more than five seconds. Everything ached. I was sore, tired, and constantly questioning if I’d ever feel like myself again.

But I kept going.

And eventually, those baby steps started to turn into something more. Movement became healing. My relationship with my body shifted. I stopped seeing it as something that failed me and started recognizing it as something that stayed with me, even through the darkest days.

If you're reading this and you’re in a similar place—whether you’re recovering from injury, burned out, or just going through a major life shift—here’s what I want you to know:

1. It’s okay to grieve what you lost.

You don’t have to be positive all the time. It is hard. It is unfair. Let yourself feel the heaviness before trying to move through it.

2. Start smaller than you think you need to.

Five seconds in a plank is enough. A five-minute walk counts. You’re not going backward—you’re rebuilding.

3. Consistency is more important than intensity.

You don’t have to crush every workout. Just keep showing up. That’s what makes the difference.

4. Celebrate the invisible wins.

Maybe you’re still sore and tired—but you went. Maybe you didn’t cancel your PT appointment. Maybe you simply stretched. These wins matter. They add up.

5. You are not broken.

Even when it feels like your body failed you, it’s still yours. It’s still you. Healing is possible. Reconnection is possible.

I’m not the same person I was before my injury—and honestly, I wouldn’t want to be. I’ve found a gentler, stronger version of myself. One who understands what it means to truly rebuild—not just physically, but emotionally and mentally, too.

If you’re in the thick of it, I see you. You’re not alone. And while it might not feel like it yet, I promise—there is light at the end of the tunnel.

Keep going.