Healing in Motion: Finding Your Pace

Years ago, I worked with young cross-country runners. Inevitably, one would trip and fall during the season. Feeling the sting of scraped knees and seeing the blood, these young athletes often believed the pain was too great to continue. From experience, having hit the ground a few times myself, I knew it was usually best to get up and move before the body stiffened. After checking for injuries and rinsing scrapes with water from my hydration bottle, I’d encourage them to start running again— slowly—shaking out their arms and hands as they went. The pain, I promised, would ease with time and gentle movement.

It always amazed me how certain they were that they couldn’t go on. Yet, by the time we returned to base, they’d gone from limping to running normally again, chatting and smiling with their teammates. Even then, I would remind them that pain often resurfaces once the adrenaline fades. Then I’d send them home with a recovery plan: rest, ice, gentle stretching, and patience.

The next day, they’d show up eager to run full out, convinced they were ready. Still, I’d check their scrapes and bruises, urge caution, and remind them that healing takes time. Only when I was sure they’d recovered did I let them push hard again, even when their patience grew thin with the simplified workouts.

Just like these young runners, we all experience moments when we fall—physically or emotionally. Our brains are hardwired to protect us, so when pain strikes, our instincts are usually twofold: give up or rush back to “normal.” Both responses make sense. We’re trying to avoid further hurt, and we don’t want setbacks to undo the progress we’ve worked so hard to build.

But healing is a process that requires time and patience. Although this story centers on physical injury, the same pattern shows up with emotional injury or trauma. We can become so focused on returning to our old baseline that we try to skip the healing process altogether, only to end up frustrated that we can’t keep up with what once felt easy.

I often hear clients express frustration after trauma or loss, saying, “I’m useless since it happened.” Many people don’t even recognize they have experienced a trauma—they got back up too quickly, brushed off the dust, moved on, and never tended to their emotional wounds. On the outside, they looked fine. But inside, they hadn’t given themselves permission to heal.

Recovery isn’t about rushing ahead and ignoring pain; it requires slowing down, getting adequate rest, and listening to physical and emotional needs. When trauma, pain, and grief knock you down, it’s tempting to push through at full speed without taking stock of the healing process. Genuine healing happens when you honor the pace your body and mind require.

It’s important to note that healing isn’t about going back to who you were before. Healing refines you into a new version of yourself. Just because you’re not doing all the things you once did doesn’t mean you’re ruined. Maybe you no longer bake bread for all your friends in your spare time like you used to. Perhaps you now offer hugs, presence, and words of encouragement instead. That doesn’t mean you’ve lost something essential. It means you’re a new version of yourself with your energy reserved for more important matters.

Rather than seeing yourself as a failure, celebrate your new superpower: evolving from a person of doing into a person of being—full of love and grace. That gift reaches farther than any baking skill. Each intentional, unrushed step through pain builds resilience and clarity and deepens your understanding of yourself and others.

Healing in Motion: Pacing Tips

Keep moving—but go slow. Gentle motion prevents stiffness, physically and emotionally, but overdoing it prolongs healing. Incorporate balance and trust in yourself.

Care for your body and mind. Prioritize rest, eat nourishing foods, move gently, take breaks, and spend time with supportive people and comforting activities.

Allow for tears. When pain strikes, a full range of emotions follow. Give yourself permission to feel and acknowledge each one. As you heal, new emotions surface unexpectedly with ebb and flow  that is a natural part of the process. It’s helpful to keep a list of emotions that arise, serving as a gentle reminder that you’ve acknowledged each one.

Track your growth. Take time to reflect on where you’ve been and where you are now. Notice the new strengths, insights, and abilities you’ve developed along the way. These are your emerging superpowers—signs of how far you’ve come and how much you’ve grown.

Have a check-in partner. A loved one, coach, or therapist can help you understand the impact of the trauma, process your emotions, reflect back the progress you may not see in yourself, and support you in finding balance along the way.

Avoid comparisons. Healing doesn’t follow a schedule, so try not to place a deadline on “getting over it.” Resist comparing yourself to your past self or to others. Chances are, you’re doing far more than you give yourself credit for. Keep in mind, you are not returning to who you were. You are refining into a stronger, more resilient version of yourself, and that takes time and energy.

Find your center. Seek comfort, direction, and gratitude through prayer and meditation. When the time feels right, gently explore new hobbies or reconnect with old ones in ways that express who you are becoming. You might even create a personal mission statement, something that reflects your growth and honors your ongoing work in progress.

Healing, like running, takes patience, pacing, and faith that you’ll regain your stride. The goal isn’t to pretend the fall never happened, but to rise, move forward, and trust that strength will return with time, care, and rest. With true healing, you often discover new strengths you never even knew were possible.