Walking My First Mile

A new year brings fresh opportunities to grow, set goals, and redefine what’s possible. As 2025 begins, I reflect on the past 17 weeks, a time filled with challenges, breakthroughs, and steady recovery. I’m embracing new goals this year and looking forward to continuing to build physical and mental strength.

There was a time, not long ago when walking a full mile seemed like a distant dream. On a mid-December day, that dream became a reality. For the first time since my injury, I walked a mile—an achievement that reminded me of the beauty of progress, no matter how small. That simple act of walking sparked a renewed determination, proving that even the smallest victories can reignite the flame of resilience.

I have to remind myself that it has only been 32 days since I was allowed to bear weight on my leg fully. Walking has become a celebration and a way to reconnect with my body. My gait is still a little unsteady, but it gets better daily. What has helped is that I reintroduced my walking pad into my daily routine and gradually increased my distance, reaching a high of 4.3 miles in one morning. 

To prepare for my goal of hiking Zion, I have been incorporating weighted vest training into my workouts. My workouts are going well. I do every workout with a 20# or 30# weighted vest. I am trying to focus on time on my feet carrying a load. I even wear it for an hour or so daily on my walking pad. You can ruck indoors or outdoors. I need to add more weight. I have been wearing 30# for a few weeks and I think I can increase it a bit. 

One of my proudest moments came when I conquered the monkey bars again (with a 20# vest!).. The memory of my fall in September is still vivid, and I was scared—seriously scared. But as I reached for each bar, I felt a surge of courage and power. Getting back on the monkey bars was not just about physical strength; it was about proving to myself that fear would not win.

Another fear I conquered in December was walking outdoors. Venturing outside for my first walk was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. Unlike the controlled environment of a treadmill, the outdoor terrain presented unexpected challenges. Walking from my doctor’s office to a local market required me to navigate uneven surfaces and face my lingering fear of falling. I never really appreciated how being able to dorsiflex and plantarflex played a role in a normal gait, but I do now. My plantar flexion and dorsiflexion are still quite limited. I am working hard to improve this. Standing on one leg, no problem. Executing a standing calf raise, not yet. There may be another surgery in my future to remove some of the hardware if my progress plateaus. 

Throughout my recovery, I’ve relied on WHOOP and Apple Health metrics to guide and encourage me. As a longtime WHOOP user, five years and counting 🙌🏾, I’ve seen how data can illuminate progress in ways that go beyond physical milestones. My 2024 year-in-review highlighted an increase in my heart rate variability (HRV) from 40 ms in 2023 to 44 ms—a 10% improvement. This may seem like a small change, but HRV is a key marker of recovery and resilience. That upward trend reflects my body’s ability to adapt and recover.

Other WHOOP insights confirmed what I’ve felt: my recovery rates are improving, and my overall readiness is on the rise. While challenges remain, these metrics are tangible proof that my consistent efforts are making a difference. It’s motivating to see numbers align with my experiences, providing an objective lens to the hard work I’ve put in.

Apple Health has also played a crucial role in keeping me informed. Its fall risk notification, for instance, has been a stark but necessary reminder of the challenges I still face. While my confidence is growing, I’m not yet 100% steady, especially when I’m tired or navigating stairs. Even so, knowing my risks allows me to make smarter decisions about how and when I push myself.

Another fascinating observation is the lingering color difference between my legs and the residual edema at the end of the day. The edema may take a good year to resolve, so I must be patient. The skin color changes perplex me. It is just an observation but something I am trying to understand. 

Recovery has required a level of resourcefulness I never anticipated. With limited equipment at home, I turned cans of lentils and beans into makeshift weights for my ankle mobility exercises. My daily physical therapy routine has grown to 30 minutes, targeting areas like my right hip flexor and glute, which still needed significant attention. This routine isn’t glamorous, but it is necessary and I do my PT every single day without fail. 

Looking back on these weeks, I’m struck by how far I’ve come. From walking on the treadmill for an hour at 3 mph to completing 30 minutes on the stepmill, every new milestone is a testament to the power of perseverance. Pain is still part of the process, but it’s a “good hurt” that signals progress and reminds me of my strength.

This journey has been deeply personal, but it’s also connected to something much larger. At the close of the year, we launched the Vegan Women’s Circle, a plant-based coaching program designed to support women at every stage of life. We also launched the MenoScore Assessment, which we designed to help women understand their health during peri-menopause, menopause and beyond, offering tools and insights to optimize well-being. It’s a labor of love born from my passion for empowering women to take control of their health, just as I’ve had to do in my own menopause journey and especially during my recovery.

This has been a bit of a ramble, but that is like life. 😂

To anyone facing a journey of recovery or self-discovery, remember this: progress isn’t measured by the size of the step but by the courage it takes to take it. Celebrate your victories, embrace the challenges, and keep moving forward. Every step counts. Every step matters. And every step brings you closer to the life you’re working to reclaim.

Be well,

Daphne