The Crash That Changed My Routine
It is surprising how quickly life can flip. One day you are training hard, keeping a routine you have built for months or even years. And then suddenly, in just one accident, you are forced to stop.
For me, it was a fractured wrist and pain in my chest that knocked me off my path. At first, I could not believe it. I had been so used to moving my body every day, waking up early to train, sweating through hard sessions, pushing my limits. Then nothing. Just pain, medication, and long hours of rest.
Stopping for more than a week felt strange. Honestly, it was harder mentally than physically. My body hurt, yes, but my mind hurt more. I felt restless, frustrated, and a little lost without my routine.
Learning to Move Slowly
Routine is my anchor. Even in this tough time, I knew I could not give up on it completely. So instead of my usual cycling, running, or swimming, I started small.
This morning, for example, I walked one kilometer. Just one. It is nothing compared to my usual training, but it gave me something: movement, air, a reminder that my body is still mine. The pain is still there, especially in my chest, but the walk helped me breathe a little easier.
Have you ever felt that? The way even the smallest step forward can feel like a victory? That is what this season is teaching me. Progress does not always have to be big to be meaningful.
Family Love in Times of Pain
One of the sweetest parts of this journey is how supported I have felt. The day after I told my mom about my pain, she booked a flight to be with me. She has been here since then, cooking my favorite meals, making sure I am cared for in the gentlest ways.
I cannot even describe how much that means. Sometimes we forget how deeply loved we are until moments like these remind us. Her presence has been healing in ways that medicine cannot touch.
Friends Who Show Up
It has not just been my mom. Friends and colleagues have shown up too. They visited me, brought fruits, and filled my days with laughter and kindness. These simple gestures have lifted me when I felt low.
When you are used to being independent, it is easy to think you should carry your pain alone. But when people show up at your door, when they bring you gifts or simply check in, it reminds you of the community around you.
Working From Home
Alongside resting my body, I also made the decision to work from home for two weeks. I will not be in the office during this time so that I can recover properly without extra strain. This shift feels necessary. It allows me to stay connected to my work, but also gives my body the space it needs to heal.
Working from home has its own rhythm. The pace is gentler, and it reminds me that I can still be productive without pushing myself too hard. It is a balance of responsibility and self care, and right now that balance feels essential.
The Tug of Sports Dreams
Of course, being a triathlete at heart, I cannot help but glance at Facebook and see posts about new races, new competitions, new registrations. And yes, it stings a little. A part of me wishes I could hit that “register” button and join them.
But right now, my path is different. My coach reminded me, “You have a whole life to do sports.” And he is right. Two or three months of healing is nothing compared to the lifetime of races waiting for me.
So I am learning patience. Sports will always be there. My body needs me to rest first.
Gratitude in Disguise
If you asked me a month ago how I would feel about being forced to stop training, I would probably tell you I would go crazy. But now, sitting here, I am surprised at how much gratitude has come in.
Gratitude for my mom, for my friends, for my colleagues who send sweet messages. Gratitude for doctors who reassure me that recovery is possible. Gratitude for my own body, even in its brokenness, it is still fighting to heal.
Sometimes we only learn how to slow down when life forces us to. And when I pause, I see more clearly all the love and blessings around me.
My check-up today brought good news. The doctor said I might be able to stop medication earlier than expected. After just five days, my healing is ahead of schedule. With proper rest and no hard physical activity, he believes I will be back in two or three months.
Hearing that lifted a weight off my shoulders. Recovery feels long, but it is not forever.
Lessons This Injury Is Teaching Me
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Patience is power. Not every battle is won by pushing harder. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is wait.
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Support matters. Family and friends make the tough days easier. Letting people in is part of healing.
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Gratitude grows in pain. When you are forced to stop, you start seeing the small blessings more clearly.
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Movement is medicine. Even a short walk can remind you that your body is still capable.
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Hope is healing. Keeping optimism alive makes the journey lighter.
Finding Peace in the Pause
Recovery is not glamorous. It is long, it is quiet, and it tests your patience. But maybe that is the point. Maybe this is life’s way of teaching me to find peace in stillness.
I have spent years chasing goals, pushing myself, always looking ahead. Now I am learning to sit still, breathe, and trust that healing is happening even when I cannot see it.
Two to three months is not forever. Soon, I will be back on the road, back in the pool, back on the bike. But when I return, I will come with something new: a deeper gratitude for my body, a greater respect for rest, and a stronger heart that knows it can endure not just miles, but also setbacks.