Keep moving forward

“It hasn’t been easy. It’s actually been really tough. But look at you, moving forward and still giving it your best. I’m so proud of how hard you’re trying.”

A few years ago, I was totally immersed in the world of CrossFit, high-intensity workouts and heavy lifting. It became a significant part of my life, shaping not just my physical health, but also my mental resilience.  

When I suddenly began struggling with my mental health, and as a result, experiencing anxiety attacks and sleepless nights, I knew the constant drive to perform at a high level in the gym was adding unnecessary stress to an already heavy mental load. I started to realize that the toll these demanding workouts were taking on my mind and body outweighed the benefits.

So, after several years of pushing myself to the limit, I made the decision to, not quit, but just scale back on CrossFit. I was stepping back not because I didn’t love it anymore, but because doing it too frequently was no longer serving me in a healthy way.

Then, about six months ago, the universe threw another challenge my way: a lower back injury - an injury like none I’d ever experienced before. The road to recovery has been anything but straightforward. There have been days and nights when I have experienced really high levels of discomfort, and moments where I’ve questioned if I’d ever be able to lift heavy weights again. I have been forced to slow down, scale back even more, and confront my body’s limits, and in doing so, I have begun seeing my relationship with fitness in a completely different light.

When the competition season rolled around a few weeks ago, I wasn’t sure what to do. I have always loved participating in competitive events, but over the last few years, I have really learned to make wiser and healthier decisions. My first instinct was to sit this one out. I didn’t feel like my body was ready for the full-on intensity of these events, and I didn’t want to risk further injury. But I also knew that stepping back completely would come with its own challenges—mainly, the feeling of missing out.

I waited till the very last minute to decide to participate. I signed up for a few events, with the understanding that my performance would be different than what it had been before. I wasn’t going to be the same athlete I was before my injury, or even before my battles with my mental health. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t show up, test myself, and give it my all, even if "my all" looked a little different.

I’ve found joy in the competition, the camaraderie, and the challenge itself. But there’s also been an internal struggle. It’s hard not to compare myself to the athlete I once was. There are moments of frustration when I don’t hit the same numbers, or when I feel like my body is holding me back. What’s even harder is the pressure I feel from those around me—people who know what I used to be capable of and perhaps expect that same level of performance. There is always this nagging thought that I am not living up to what others expect of me.

The hardest part, however, has been learning how to silence that noise. How do you block out the expectations of others while also embracing your own path of recovery and self-acceptance? How do you celebrate the progress you've made without feeling like it’s not enough?

The truth is, it’s an ongoing process. It’s about recognizing that my value as an athlete (and as a person) is not defined by what I can lift, how fast I can move, or the competitions I can win. It’s about acknowledging that my journey is different now, and that’s okay. I know deep down that I don’t owe anyone an explanation for where I’m at; I shouldn’t have to justify my performance to anyone—least of all myself, but here I am doing it.

In these last few weeks, I’ve done the best I can, and I’m proud of that. I’ve competed with the awareness that my body is recovering, that I’ve faced mental, emotional and physical hurdles, and that I’m still pushing forward despite setbacks. Most importantly, I’ve learned that being kind to myself—celebrating my efforts instead of criticizing my shortcomings—is far more important than any performance metric.

We live in a world full of expectations, especially when it comes to fitness. There’s pressure to constantly be pushing harder, doing more, and achieving at all costs. But true strength isn’t just about physical capability; it’s about mental and emotional resilience. It’s about acknowledging where you are, being proud of what you’ve accomplished, and accepting yourself for who you are in the present moment—not who you used to be or who others think you should be.

So, the next time you feel overwhelmed by external pressures or find yourself comparing your progress to someone else’s, remember this: your journey is yours alone. You don’t have to justify your choices or your pace. Just keep showing up, keep doing your best, and most importantly—keep embracing the person you are today, with all the strength and grace that comes with it.

At the end of the day, that’s what truly matters.