This week, I’m stepping back on the soccer field for the first time since I tore my ACL last October. I can’t help but feel a rush of gratitude just for the chance to be out there again. It’s been a long road, and that got me thinking: Do we need to be burned to learn how good it feels to not be on fire? Or, to put it in less metaphorical terms, do we need a big injury or setback to truly appreciate the simple act of moving?
At the gym, I’ve noticed folks generally fall into two broad camps, and in my experience, it’s often a serious injury or a long layoff that pushes people from the first camp to the second.
The Pre-Injury Camp:
This is where a lot of us start, myself included. It’s all about pushing hard, chasing PRs, learning new skills, and being the best. The energy is contagious, and the idea of slowing down or backing off feels… almost absurd. You want to beat yesterday’s time, lift heavier than last week, and maybe even edge out the person next to you in class.
The Post-Injury Camp:
This is the camp where you land when something forces you to pause—like an ACL tear, for example. You come back, and everything looks different. The joy you get from simply moving, from being able to walk, squat, or run, is immense. You start to value the group class dynamic and the camaraderie more than your ranking on the leaderboard. There’s a bit more caution in your movements. You’re quicker to pull the plug if something feels off because you’re not willing to risk being separated again from what now brings you gratitude.
In a weird way, injury can be a gift because it forces us to slow down, reflect, and appreciate. But here’s the question: Do we have to slam into the wall to truly enjoy the ride? Do we need to be benched by an injury to find that sense of calm, gratitude, and balance that comes from just showing up and moving?
Can we bridge the gap?
Is there a way to adopt the “post-injury” mindset without having to go through the painful part first? How do we stay connected to our goals and our drive for self-improvement, while also maintaining that sense of deep gratitude for movement? It’s a tough balance. It’s easy to push yourself to the limit when you’re feeling good, but it’s harder to step back and realize that the ability to show up day in and day out is worth protecting.
What do you value most?
When we’re in the “pre-injury” mindset, it’s easy to value performance above all else. But after an injury, the value often shifts to longevity and enjoyment. Could we learn to value both at the same time? How do we find joy in movement and the discipline to protect that joy?
I don’t have all the answers, but here’s what I know: there’s a way to chase performance and still show up tomorrow. There’s a way to test yourself, to be competitive, and still keep that deep sense of gratitude for the fact that you’re moving at all. It doesn’t have to be an either/or.
Maybe it’s about paying attention to your body, and listening to it before it has to scream at you. Maybe it’s about learning to love the process and not just the outcomes. Or maybe it’s about finding moments of calm within the chaos—whether you’re running for a PR or just running because you can.
So, what’s it going to take for you? Will you wait for a flame-out to appreciate how good it feels to be moving, or can you cultivate that balance now?