Momentum Misogi
Rising Strong After Injury – My Recovery Journey Continues
29 weeks. 203 days.
That’s how long it had been since I suffered a spiral fracture of my right tibia and fibula doing a Tough Mudder in September 2024. Each day etched with pain, progress, and plenty of soul-searching. What started as a slow crawl back to walking became a powerful climb toward reclaiming strength, inside and out. And it all came to a head in the Utah desert at the Momentum Retreat, where I faced my Misogi.
This wasn’t just a physical challenge. It was a spiritual cleansing, a full-body reset rooted in the ancient Japanese Shinto tradition. One that asked: What are you willing to do this year that’s so hard you might fail?
Well, I found out. And I’m still standing.
What is a Misogi?
In traditional Japanese Shinto practice, Misogi (禊) is a form of ritual purification. Often performed by plunging into icy rivers or waterfalls, it’s meant to cleanse not just the body, but the mind and spirit. But in its modern evolution, Misogi has taken on a new edge, it’s become a way to mark a year by doing one incredibly hard thing.
Your Misogi shouldn’t be a gimme. It should be so challenging, so out of your comfort zone, that there’s a good chance you won’t succeed. But if you do, and it will change you. It will move something deep inside that you didn’t even know needed moving.
This was mine.
The Road to Zion: How It All Began
I was first cleared to walk again on December 3, 2024, almost three months after my injury. My leg? Frail. Weak. I couldn’t squat, do a single calf raise, or even walk normally. The atrophy was visible, and honestly, terrifying. But I had a goal:
To regain enough mobility and strength to join The Vegan Gym team and our incredible Vegan Superheroes at the Momentum Retreat.
It was a steep hill to climb, figuratively and literally. But with the expertise and compassion of my physical therapists, Aimee and Erin, I began to build again.
Step by shaky step.
Training for the Misogi Challenge
I knew what I had to start by focusing on the hike to Scout Lookout in Zion National Park, I knew what I had to do. Here's what that hike looked like on paper:
Distance: 3.6 miles
Elevation Gain: 1,100 feet
Duration: 2–3 hours on foot
Difficulty: Hard
Gear: A 35 - 40-pound backpack
To prepare, I trained on a treadmill, walking with my vest or weighted backpack, testing incline levels, and icing my leg nightly to do it all over again the next day. I still had limitations. Balance, proprioception, and flexibility were all working against me. Even walking outside on uneven terrain felt like a risk, and it was scary.
But two weeks before Zion? I made it almost seven miles.
That’s when I knew: I can do this.
Misogi in Motion: The Retreat Experience
Let’s talk about the real stuff, the raw moments that made this retreat unforgettable.
Cold Plunge
Mentally, this was the big one for me. Cold water and I are not best friends. But I went for it, feet in, heart racing. When I slipped and went completely under, it was a jolt (pun intended), but I stayed the full two minutes. Numb but proud.
Hike to Scout Lookout
This hike taught me several key:
Always carry two medical kits, one at the front of the hike and one with the sweeper.
Don’t let the medical team carry lunch. Seriously.
Walkie-talkies are a must.
I had the honor of supporting one of our superheroes during this hike. We didn’t quite make it to Scout Lookout, but the joy and connection were off the charts. because health and safety always come first.
Rappelling in the Slot Canyons
Day 2 was another day of firsts. Thanks to the rockstars at ROAM Outdoor Adventure Co., we had the UTV canyon experience of a lifetime. I hadn’t practiced rappelling before the trip, but I gave it everything. There was a moment, sliding down a rockface, when I had to land 2–3 feet below, when I questioned my strength and balance.
“Oh shit,” I thought. “How am I going to get down?”
But thanks to Leif Arnesen (lifesaver), I navigated it safely and felt stronger for it.
The Narrows
By far, the toughest challenge of the week for me. Wading through water, balancing on hidden rocks, completely unsure of where my feet would land. It tested every ounce of my focus and patience. I was s-l-o-w. But that slowness came from a place of care, not fear.
By the end? My leg was swollen and angry, but my spirit? Unshaken.
Lessons From the Trail
This experience wasn’t just about physical endurance, it was about rediscovery. I learned that:
I’m stronger than I believe.
Chronic pain changes you, but it doesn’t have to break you.
Once a physician, always a physician. Supporting others still lights me up in a way nothing else can.
And perhaps most importantly...Healing is not linear, but momentum matters.
Surgery #4… and What’s Next
Five days after returning from Zion, I went under the knife again, for the fourth time. (Yes, this one was planned!) That’s a story for another day, but what matters is this:
I’m still here. I’m still moving.
And next up? Running a 5K.
This chapter has been one of grit, grace, and growth. I’ve been held up by a phenomenal community, pushed by personal goals, and grounded in the joy of simply moving forward.
If you’re navigating your recovery, or standing at the base of a significant personal challenge, know this:
You’re stronger than your doubts.
Your progress might be slow, but it’s still progress.
And sometimes, healing looks like cold plunges, dusty hikes, and swollen legs after a long day in the canyons.
Thanks for being here, and stay tuned for more.
In the meantime, be well. 💛
