Later today, I’m going back to the gym for the first time in a while. I had a torn disc in my back and ended up in hospital for four nights. It was incredibly painful, and recovery has been slow. Painkillers helped, but rest was the real work.
I’ve missed movement. Not in a dramatic way, just in that quiet, background sense of knowing I feel better when I move. Even the small things like stretching, walking, or just feeling my body do what it’s meant to do.
Coming back after something like this isn’t glamorous. There’s no big comeback moment. It’s just me, trying again, seeing how it feels. I’ll be happy even if all I manage is a short walk on the treadmill. Because after everything, showing up feels like enough.
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