If you’re currently navigating the medical system, waiting for a diagnosis or treatment, you’re not alone. In Canada, most people wait over a year for surgery, and the average wait time to see a specialist is three months or more. That’s a long time to wait for life to resume its “regular programming.” The waiting period can make us feel hopeless, as if we can’t move forward or enjoy life until that future moment when we have answers, find a cure, or return to our baseline.
Over the last several months, I found myself in a state of perpetual waiting—waiting for the next appointment, the next round of imaging, the results, and then waiting for someone to actually explain what those results meant. I’ve bounced from specialist to specialist, each time believing that I was just one appointment away from the answers I needed to fix my chronic pain.
It’s completely normal to feel let down by our medical system and isolated on your journey. Despite the many support communities out there, no one shares the exact same situation as you. Even specific injuries that usually follow a standard set of symptoms can be atypical in your case.
While I’ve shared my own journey of injuries and unanswered questions over the past year, many people have reached out to share their frustrations and despair as well—facing even longer wait times, more intense chronic pain, and countless unanswered questions.
Throughout this entire ordeal, all I wanted was for a medical professional to truly see my suffering—how deeply this injury was affecting my quality of life…just a wee bit of empathy. Our medical system is primarily designed to address biological issues, with doctors trained to look for structural causes of pain and devise treatment plans to address our apparent structural issues.
Over the past year, I’ve either been suspected of having or formally diagnosed with the following conditions: plantar fasciitis, bilateral stress fractures, tendinopathy in my ankles, a partial plantar tear, chronic exertional compartment syndrome, chronic regional pain syndrome, and bursitis. With each new diagnosis, my anxiety and pain levels spiked. Going from a place of feeling invincible to suddenly feeling like everything that could possibly go wrong was going wrong, was jarring. My nervous system couldn’t keep up with the continuous trauma, and what made it worse was the lack of empathy from doctors who just shrugged their shoulders and passed me off to the next specialist.
When athletes face injuries, it’s not just our bodies that suffer—it’s our mental health, too. Being sidelined doesn’t only take us out of our sport; it impacts every area of our life. When you’re in pain, it’s hard to focus on anything else or be fully present with those around you.
In the 1970s, Dr. George Engel and John Romano developed a more holistic model of treatment that didn’t solely focus on the biological factors (e.g., medical and family history, health, and medications), but also considered additional factors including the psychological (emotions, thoughts, moods) and environmental (social life, relationships, social location). They felt the traditional biological model was “too narrow and dehumanizing.” I’ve come to wholeheartedly believe that there’s an interplay between all of these factors….and they directly affect how quickly we heal.
A Catalyst for Change
The start of 2025 was tough: big life changes compounded by my ongoing health issues, with flare-ups occurring every few days. Suddenly, I was faced with finding a new place to live, processing the end of a relationship, and dealing with a host of other logistical stressors that sent my nervous system into overdrive. I tried to return to the basics and hold myself together: eating at regular intervals, getting as much sleep as possible, and seeking out distractions—lots of distractions.
Amidst the chaos, I had to have a serious talk with myself. I decided that my first priority was calming down my nervous system. So, I water-jogged, meditated, read, journaled, listened to audiobooks, lifted weights, and saw friends almost every day. I walked outside, and if my feet hurt, I’d sit on a bench and look out at the water. I went to bed early and woke up early, getting myself back in sync with my normal biological clock.
At one of my lowest points, I decided to take ownership of my healing. No more waiting around for specialists to give me answers or for someone to come along and “heal” me. I needed to protect my peace and create my own treatment plan. Often, when we reach our lowest moments, it’s the perfect time to reinvent ourselves.
In a podcast episode, ultra-athlete Rich Roll says, “If you’re stuck, if you’re struggling, if you’re being dismantled, if you feel like your life is being pulled out from underneath you, I say… congratulations! What an opportunity that is! You’re being given the chance to look at yourself and reconstruct your life from the ground up.” Instead of resisting it, Roll says, “lean into it.”
For me, the only choice was forward.
Own Your Healing
After making the decision to take full responsibility for my healing, I finally started feeling like myself again—more calm, relaxed, and at peace. I’ve noticed that as my emotional health has improved, my physical health has followed suit.
There are no groundbreaking strategies here; all of them are quite simple but highly effective. So whether you’re struggling with your physical, emotional, or mental health, I want to share the strategies I’ve been using to help you take control of your healing—not in some distant future, but right now.
Take the Pressure Off
After reflecting on My Year of Accomplishing Nothing, I realized I needed to reframe how I was approaching the projects and goals I was taking on. I had a conversation with myself and my body, and decided that this year would be my year of ~healing~. That meant no races on the calendar, no ambitious projects with strict self-imposed timelines—just prioritizing my physical and emotional well-being.
My nervous system had been in a state of fear, danger, and insecurity for so long that I needed to help my body feel safe again. In Alan Gordon’s book The Way Out, he describes the pressure we put on ourselves as a key trigger that keeps us stuck in a chronic pain loop. For the first time in the last decade, I’m taking the pressure off myself to strive and achieve. Instead, I’m focusing my energy on myself, the relationships that nourish me, and my new pup, Billie (because man, puppies are a hell of a lot of work). When we’re going through a turbulent time, sometimes just surviving the day is a big accomplishment.
Prioritizing your health and well-being is more than enough.
Create a Safe, Comfortable Environment
After a few weeks of searching for a new place to live, I found a dream apartment back in my old neighborhood that truly feels like home. It’s close to all my favorite shops, places to work, and a few of my favorite people. I found some furniture to make my space cozy, comfortable, and a place I genuinely enjoy being in. Whether it’s buying new furniture, a new plant, some candles, or a piece of art you’ve always wanted, creating a safe haven that you love can do wonders for your mental health.
Meditation & Somatic Tracking
I’ve been slowly building up my meditation practice and getting back in touch with my body. When I begin meditating, I always start with my intentions, which lately has been peace and healing. I also learned a technique called somatic tracking, which involves retraining your brain to approach pain signals differently. Instead of automatically feeling fear and panic when I experience pain or a flare-up, I’m learning to get curious. I observe the sensations and allow them to be present in my awareness without resisting, blocking, or pushing them away. Instead, I meet these sensations with openness and acceptance. Repeating this process multiple times a day has, interestingly, caused my symptoms to subside substantially. When my body feels calm, my pain begins to change and dissipate.
I’ve also been having actual conversations with my body, reminding myself that I’m safe and encouraging my feet, like a good ol’ pal, that we did great today. It may sound silly, but the mind-body connection is real.
Don’t Resist: Pain is Real, Suffering Optional
I’ve had flare-ups and setbacks—bad days and heavy periods of grieving. But over the last few weeks, they’ve become shorter in duration. I’m no longer trying to push away anything I’m feeling. Instead, I’m fully embracing the many flavours of life. I recently read a quote in performance coach, Steve Magness’ new book How to Win the Inside Game that struck a deep chord: “Whatever we resist, persists.”
The brevity of that sentiment packs a punch.
One of the phases in any big loss or life-changing event is denial—resistance. Some of us stay stuck in this phase for a long time, unable to push past it. We resist, and that emotional pain lingers for months, maybe years, maybe even a lifetime. We cling to old memories, dreams, and aspirations—what was, what could have been—rather than growing from the experience and moving forward. The faster we can accept what’s happening, the quicker we can uncover the meaning and growth in the experience.
The pain we’re feeling is real. Gaslighting ourselves that it isn’t or trying to push through it, will only make things worst—it will only cause more suffering.
I consciously ignored the irritation in my left foot, which turned into pain and then an injury in my right foot. I just kept running through it, like I always had. Pushed through, persevered, ignoring the signals my body was sending me. Our bodies usually start off telling us things in a whisper, and then that voice gets louder and louder, eventually screaming at us constantly.
My motivation to find a solution had never been so high. I wanted to do anything to get rid of the pain and return to my normal life asap. I thought shockwave therapy, physio, acupuncture, massage, cold laser therapy, osteopathy, perineural injection therapy, TENS machines, cold water soaks, hot water soaks, vitamin C, K, Omegas, D, and iron would fix the problem. While these brought temporary relief and hope for a lasting resolution, I had felt the pain for so long and so continuously that, subconsciously, I didn’t think it would ever get better. I was suffering and trying every quick fix, scouring the internet for the next solution. But no amount of Hokas are going to bring us the peace we need to heal—only acceptance does that.
A Time For Spiritual Growth
The hardest times in my life have also been the biggest catalysts for growth and change. I’ve become a more developed person through the struggles, much more than through the good times, highs, and accomplishments. Novelist, Marcel Proust said that human wisdom can be gained in two ways: either from a teacher or from painful life experiences. The latter being, as philosopher Alain de Botton wrote, “far superior.”
The faster we move from denial to acceptance, the faster we find peace. And I’ve finally found that peace. Instead of staying in a constant state of anxiety, obsessing over pain, I now feel safe and at home within myself. I carry peace and relaxation with me throughout the day, not just in my meditation sessions. And you can carry that peace too.
About a month ago, I had a call with my mom, telling her that I didn’t know how to cope with my anxiety. It was off the charts, and I couldn’t sit with myself or my thoughts for even 10 minutes. I was spiraling. I thought something was seriously wrong with me, that maybe I needed a prescription to help me calm the eff down . I felt like I was drowning. Looking back at that moment just a few months back, when I was parked on a side street, overwhelmed and feeling out of control, I realize just how far I’ve come.
Sometimes, things need to end for us to heal—physically, mentally, and spiritually. My anxiety is now mostly gone, replaced by potential—for new dreams, new opportunities, and new experiences. No prescriptions needed.
No doctor’s treatment plan or prescription will truly heal us. Life is far too messy and nuanced for that. I’ve realized that taking ownership of our own mental, physical, and spiritual well-being is the only true path to salvation. It means learning to listen to what we need and engaging in activities and relationships that fulfill us.
I don’t know what the next year will bring, but I do know that I’m open to whatever life offers. I may not like it at first, but through practice, I’ve learned that open acceptance will give me peace with whatever comes next (good or bad). We can handle anything if we embrace what Tara Brach coined as “radical acceptance.” As a runner, the experiences that shake our world the most can serve as the most potent form of race fuel—carrying us through to the finish line, and beyond.
No relationship or person is going to fix us or make us love ourselves; no prescription will magically heal our traumas. Healing is a decision that only we can make, and it starts by figuring out what nourishes our soul—and then doing those things.
Sometimes, healing means spending time in nature, visiting our favourite coffee shop, and eating tacos. Maybe it means pushing your body in a class or sport—because putting our bodies through physical pain can sometimes help heal ease emotional pain. Maybe it’s binging Love is Blind with your favorite sweet treat by your side, or journaling and processing. Whatever it is, own it. Healing must always be ours.
Progress is moving forward despite the pain we carry, and enjoying our life right now. Progress is being comfortable and learning to love ourselves in this very moment.
Final Thoughts
Taking ownership of my healing has been liberating. Deciding not to wait to resume my life, but to resume it right now—fully accepting where I’m at and embracing it rather than resisting it—has surprisingly helped me make exponential progress. Healing is non-linear, and if you’re feeling helpless and hopeless within the current medical system, I really feel for you. However, there are things you can do right now to reclaim that control and take charge of your own healing. Because sometimes, we have no other choice.