Why It Is So Important To Keep Exercising – Even If Injured
I learned that exercising while injured is a key to health if you can do it. There’s a belief in Traditional Chinese Medicine that I come back to often: Qi must flow. Our life force, our vitality, is not something to hoard or cage. It needs movement. And when we’re in pain, that movement can feel impossible.
But over the last five years, my body has become both my greatest teacher and the most stubborn student. I’ve dealt with pain in my hips, legs, feet, and even a thumb. And yet? I keep moving. Because I believe, in my bones (or what’s left of the cartilage between them), that we must keep the body moving in some way. And when we can’t move the body, we move the mind.
This isn’t a comeback story. It’s not a #transformationTuesday. It’s a real-life, day-by-day practice of listening to what my body can do today. And loving it anyway.
Back in the Day: The Athlete Years
Once upon a time, I was a black belt in karate. My wife and I did triathlons. I rode my mountain bike like it was a second limb. I loved to walk. Not like “take a stroll” walking—I mean multi-hour adventures in the sun with my dog, just soaking in the joy of being outside, being alive.
Walking and biking (and 80’s alternative music) were my medicine. My peace. My joy.
But eventually, my leg started to scream. The kind of pain that doesn’t whisper. The kind that makes you stop. X-rays showed my hip was bone on bone. The pounding from walking wasn’t helping. It was grinding. Literally.
That was the first real shift. I couldn’t do the thing I loved most. And yet, I knew I had to move. Somehow.
The Adaptation Game: Finding My Yeses
So I went back to the bike. It felt like coming home. No pounding. Just flow. My body said yes.
Then winter hit. Snow. Ice. Frozen pedals. So I got scrappy. Ordered a little hand bike off Amazon that sat on a table, and I used my arms to pedal.
And let me tell you—that thing is amazing. It allowed me to work up a real sweat when I couldn’t use my legs at all. It was simple, effective, and honestly a little genius. I’m incredibly grateful for it. It kept me connected to my body. Kept me moving. Kept me sane.
Until… I did something to my arm. (Because of course I did.)
Couldn’t use the hand bike. So I pivoted again. This time: swimming. A full-body workout with no pounding on my legs. It was magic. I swam every day for over a year. It healed me, not just physically but emotionally. Somehow I would find a way to keep exercising while injured.
Summers became swim and bike season. Winters were for swimming alone. It wasn’t flashy, it wasn’t about “gains” or “progress.” It was about staying in motion. Keeping the Qi flowing.
Then my arm healed. I started lifting dumbbells. That felt like a high. I did it for nearly a year—until I tweaked my shoulder.
But here’s the plot twist: by then, I could walk again.
Healing is Nonlinear (But It’s Still Progress)
Let’s be clear: my body didn’t snap back. It wasn’t dramatic. It just… shifted.
I started walking again with the help of two little things I found on Amazon:
- Poles — light weight walking poles, perfect for support and balance.
- The most comfortable shoes ever — they absorbed the shock my hips and knees couldn’t. Game changer. (They are called Hoka and I got ones with a huge cushy heal to absorb impact.)
Now, I mix it up. I walk and ride. I do dumbbells and bodyweight training. AND I stretch … flow … and I listen.
And that’s really the secret. I’m not trying to go back to who I was. I’m dancing with the version of me that exists today.
Rules for Moving Through Injury (or Aging, or Life)
- Listen to your body. Pain is information. Not a punishment. Not a weakness.
- Modify without shame. Who cares if you used to run marathons? Today, you did gentle stretching and that counts.
- Don’t care what others think. Seriously. No one is paying as much attention to you as you think. (Bless them.)
- Don’t get mad at your body. It’s doing its best. Make friends with it. Talk to it like you would a beloved pet. Or a cranky toddler.
- Find your movement. If you can’t walk, swim. If you can’t swim, bike. If you can’t bike, use your arms. If you can’t move your body, meditate. Breathe. Visualize. Qi flows where attention goes.
- Do it with someone else. If you can find someone else or a group to support you it makes everything easier very often.
Movement is a Love Letter
I don’t move to fix my body.
I move to honor it. To thank it. To stay in relationship with it. Even when it’s frustrating. Especially when it’s frustrating.
The version of me that walked for hours in the sun with my dog? He’s still here. He’s just adapted.
So if you’re navigating injury, aging, or just a season of physical limitation, know this:
You’re not broken. You’re in transition.
Keep moving and listening. Keep flowing.
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