Day 53: Returning to the Mat, One Breath at a Time

A New Step in the Journey

Day 53, today started with energy, finally. The morning sunlight streamed through my window, brightening the room and lifting my spirits. I woke up not tired, not dragging myself out of bed, but actually ready to take on the day. A cold shower, crisp and invigorating, washed away my sleepiness, followed by a solid breakfast. Suddenly, the day felt structured, clean, and promising, filled with possibilities and opportunities.

On the bus, I fell right back into the familiar rhythm of the Wim Hof breathing method. Each day I do it, something subtle shifts, it gets easier, clearer, sharper. It’s becoming less of a routine and more of a mental reset button, allowing me to clear my mind. With every inhale and exhale, my focus locked in, thoughts sharpened, and I could feel the excitement strumming through my veins.

For a moment, it felt like everything was aligning perfectly, the sun, the energy, the anticipation. I smiled to myself, appreciating the stillness of that moment.

Daily Work & The Evening Return

School wasn't smooth today; it was somewhat chaotic, but it was necessary to combat the typical struggles of a teaching day. My morning was swallowed by exam modifications, tiny details that somehow took a massive chunk of my precious time. My mind raced with thoughts of my blog, yearning to pour my ideas onto the page, but priorities are priorities. I knew I had to clear the tasks at hand, then create freely.

By midday, I had only a few revision sheets left, but the real test came with my last three teaching sessions. Three in a row. And they were terrible. The students seemed disengaged, fighting off boredom.

Because all other schools are on break this week, our students were restless, bored, disengaged, mentally absent. I taught what I could, but it felt like pushing a boulder uphill, every sentence met with indifference. When the bell finally rang, it echoed in the room like a relief, and I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

What kept me going? The thought of finally stepping back onto the mats after almost two weeks away, my muscles craving the familiar movements and intensity.

At home, I refueled, meal, nap, more food. It felt restorative, a way to recharge my spirit, and when evening arrived, it was finally time. The anticipation bubbled within me.

Walking into the wrestling gym felt strangely comforting, almost like returning to an old friend. It was new yet familiar, quiet yet alive, filled with the echoes of past matches and training sessions.

Warm-up began: Slow laps around the mat, arm swings to loosen up, leg movements to get the blood pumping. Sprawls, knee slides, forward rolls, and backward rolls. Crab walks. Every movement slowly reconnecting me to my body, awakening the muscles that had lain dormant.

We stretched hard, arms, legs, back, everything was put to the test. By the end, we focused on deep back stretches… and that’s when the rib, a reminder of my injury, spoke up. A sharp ache, growing with each movement, a gentle warning that elicited a frown of concern.

I didn’t push it. One hour was enough; even that was a triumphant return to the mats. I asked the coach if I could head out, and he agreed with understanding.

Still, even with the pain, being back felt alive. The energy in the gym, the camaraderie of my fellow wrestlers, it all ignited a spark within me.

I ended the night with a cold shower, refreshing and restoring, followed by a small meal, and I sank into the comforting embrace of exhaustion, a feeling that feels earned, a testament to a day well-spent.

The Struggle

Today’s struggle wasn’t the workout; it was the weight of the day. The mentally draining exam edits weighed heavy on my mind, eroding my spirit.

The frustrated, unmotivated students seemed to drain the very life out of me. Each blank stare felt like an obstacle. The rib pain returning during stretching was another reminder of my limitations, a lingering specter of discomfort. The feeling of wanting to do more yet being forced to slow down was the most difficult of all; it felt like being in a race with no finish line.

But I didn’t quit on myself, and I held on tight to that resolve through it all. I didn’t skip training out of fear, knowing that every return, no matter how small, was important. I listened to my body, did what I could, and stepped back when I needed to, allowing myself the grace to recover.

That balance, that’s the real battle. It’s not just in wrestling, but in life, learning to navigate the push and pull of our aspirations and realities.

The Lesson

Not every return is triumphant. Sometimes the comeback is quiet, cautious, half-painful, but still meaningful on a very important level. It teaches us resilience.

Today taught me that:

• Progress isn’t always visible; the unseen effort lays the groundwork for future success.

• Effort is enough; sometimes just showing up is a victory in itself.

• Showing up matters, even if you can’t give your full strength yet; it’s about the commitment to continue.

Healing isn’t linear, and discipline doesn’t always feel good. There are peaks and valleys, but the path forward is made of these small, imperfect returns, each one an important lesson.

Looking Ahead

Tomorrow is about recovery, embracing the opportunity to heal fully. About checking in with my rib, seeing how it responds, and adjusting accordingly. If I can train again this week, even lightly, I will, but I won’t rush it. Patience is key, as is listening to my body’s intuition.

Slow steps are still steps; every small movement carries me forward toward progress and improvement.

Day 53 Lesson

Every return, no matter how small, carries its own kind of victory. It’s a reminder that every action contributes to the bigger picture.

Day 53 complete. Showing up today reminded me that momentum isn’t built in giant leaps, but in these steady, determined moments. The grind continues.

👉 When you return to something after a break, what helps you ease back in without losing motivation?