Catchup with Coach M - Edition 55 - The Art of Coming Back

Active Living Active Living
2 days ago
5 min read

Everyone’s journey is different.🌱

Some paths flow smoothly, others twist steeply, and sometimes life simply pulls the rug out from under you. You find yourself standing at the edge of something you didn’t ask for, trying to gather the strength to move forward. That’s where I’ve been recently — at the intersection of who I was, and who I’m becoming again.

Welcome to edition 55 of my catch-up blog.

We’ve been steadily moving through our rotational blogs, but I’ve been quieter than usual. Specifically on my training logs - Not for lack of motivation — but because life demanded my full attention, body, mind, and spirit.

The Unexpected Detour 🚧 On the 8th of July this year, I went for what I thought was a routine mammogram — something quick, standard, ordinary. But this time, it wasn’t. The screening revealed suspicious tissue.

Fast forward to the 31st of July: a biopsy confirmed malignant cells. Breast cancer — and possible lymph node involvement.

Two weeks later, I underwent exploratory surgery. The doctors were hopeful that partial tissue removal and a few lymph nodes would be enough. I left holding onto that hope tightly.

But a week later, I was called back. “We need to do a full mastectomy,” they said. And just like that, everything shifted.

“Hearing the word cancer doesn’t just land once — it echoes.”

Hearing cancer doesn’t just strike once — it reverberates. Your brain spins, your body reacts in ways you can’t predict, and your emotions collide. You function, but you feel suspended, almost floating outside yourself.

The Silent Shock and the Physical Toll 💔

The mental shock was immense, but the physical toll was equally heavy — especially for me.

Because I don’t have a colon, dehydration hits me harder than most. After both surgeries, I suffered severe dehydration and sickness from anesthesia. Two operations just two weeks apart pushed my body to its absolute limit.

Walking with drains, managing swelling, bandages, and significant blood loss — even standing or lifting a kettle was exhausting. My haemoglobin (HB) levels dropped drastically — haemoglobin being the protein in red blood cells that carries oxygen to muscles and organs. When it’s low, every movement feels heavier than normal, energy drains rapidly, and fatigue overwhelms you.

“Strength isn’t just physical. Sometimes the bravest act is simply showing up.”

I’d felt this before, during my long battle with Ulcerative Colitis. But this time, it was heavier. I had to face a version of myself I didn’t recognize: one who couldn’t move but with massive limitations, couldn’t train properly - not to my standards, and had to depend on patience and small steps rather than sheer willpower. Holding yourself to high standards can be hard, but it also brings accountability in situations like these, they keep you from totally getting into that dark hole and making sure to do what you can when the body allows.

Seven Weeks Later: Rebuilding🏃‍♀️...AGAIN...

It’s now just over seven weeks since my last operation — eleven weeks without running, swimming, or high-impact activity. For someone whose life revolves around movement, that stillness was haunting.

At first, I walked — slowly, carefully. Each step was a quiet victory, a reminder that movement doesn’t have to be perfect to be meaningful.

Now, I’ve been cleared to run again. The road ahead still includes preventative radiotherapy and further treatments, but this stage — this conscious, careful rebuilding — feels like reclaiming a part of myself.

“Movement is my medicine — and every small step is progress.”

The Comeback: A Lesson in Humility 🌄

Coming back after illness or injury is humbling. You can’t simply pick up where you left off. Your body has changed. Strength, balance, and rhythm are different.

And this comeback hit harder than any I’ve faced before. It struck me emotionally and physically. Movement has always been my medicine, my therapy, my grounding. Without it, I realized I wasn’t the same. There were moments I felt lost in stillness — like a part of my identity had paused.

But that stillness also taught me something powerful: courage isn’t the absence of fear, and strength isn’t just physical. Sometimes the bravest act is simply showing up — slow, careful, and uncertain — and trusting yourself to rebuild.

The Emotional Side of a Comeback 💛 No one really prepares you for how emotional a comeback can be. The quiet moments alone, facing your limitations, are often harder than any physical challenge. You mourn the version of yourself that moved freely, yet you’re grateful to be here at all.

You question your identity: Who am I if I can’t train like before? Who am I if I’m slower, weaker, or cautious?

The answer? You’re still you. But now, you’re becoming a stronger, wiser version — one who understands that resilience is measured not by pace or weights, but by the courage to start again despite fear.

Some days, emotions hit harder than the body. Frustration, anger, even grief can take over. And that’s okay. Healing isn’t linear. Acceptance, compassion, and small victories become the markers of real progress.

“Courage isn’t the absence of fear — it’s moving forward with it.”

And then, slowly, you reach moments of joy: a pain-free walk, a short run, a deep breath that finally feels full. Those moments are magical because they aren’t just about the body — they’re about reclaiming your life, one movement at a time.

The comeback teaches gratitude in motion. It reminds you that strength isn’t the absence of weakness — it’s showing up with the weakness and doing what you can anyway.

“Your comeback isn’t a return — it’s a rebirth.”

You come back knowing your worth isn’t in distance, pace, or strength — it’s in your willingness to keep going, to keep believing, even when everything feels uncertain.

Rebuilding: Tips for Body and Mind 💪

Here’s what I’ve learned about rebuilding after setbacks:

Start small — and mean it. Short walks, light lifts, gentle movement. Celebrate these moments — they are the foundation.
Progress isn’t linear. Some days feel effortless, others impossible. Healing is winding.
Rest is active training. Sleep, nutrition, hydration, and recovery days are essential.
Be kind to yourself. Speak to yourself like a teammate, not a critic.
Reconnect with your “why.” Purpose fuels consistency.
Celebrate small wins. First jog, first lift, first laugh mid-session. They are milestones.
Lean on your tribe. Healing is easier when you accept help and encouragement.

“The courage to start again, despite fear, is the real victory.”

The Plan from Here 🏁

Yes, I have races I had originally entered, and I needed to submit a deferral for those. But there are still races coming up in November, and I’m planning to do them — even though I know I’m far from fully fit.

These races aren’t about speed or performance. They’re a reminder of how strong our bodies truly are, even after everything life throws at us. Every step, every mile, is proof that recovery is possible — that strength comes back, sometimes in ways we never imagined.

“It doesn’t matter if a mile is 6 minutes or 15 minutes — a mile is still a mile, and every step is a victory.”

For me, these races will be a celebration of resilience, patience, and the power of showing up. And that’s a victory that no stopwatch can measure.

Closing Thoughts 🌈

This journey has reminded me that strength is more than physical. It’s emotional, mental, and spiritual.

Being forced to slow down doesn’t mean falling behind. It’s an opportunity to grow, rebuild, and return stronger — wiser, more grounded, and more grateful than before.

“Rebuilding isn’t about going back — it’s about moving forward, one breath, one step, one heartbeat at a time.”

Here’s to every comeback — slow, steady, messy, and magnificent. 💖with a silver lining around each cloud.

I look forward to sharing this journey with you all — the good, the bad, the ugly, and everything in between. ✨