Here’s to moving forward.

A year ago, after my second ACL injury, I started this blog because I needed somewhere to put all of it — the frustration, the setbacks, the small wins, and the reality of what recovery actually looks like.

This Wednesday, I’m headed to what I hope will be my final visit with my surgeon. There’s a very real possibility that I’ll finally be released from physical therapy. After two long years of injuries, surgeries, rehab, and rebuilding, that feels surreal to say out loud.

ACL recovery is often talked about like it’s a straight line — surgery, rehab, recovery, done. But for me, it was never that simple. It was setbacks and progress. Confidence and fear. Feeling strong one week and completely defeated the next. It was learning how much mental strength matters when your body isn’t cooperating.

Somewhere along the way, I also had to come to terms with the fact that my body is changing as I age. Recovery at this stage of life felt different than it would have years ago. Harder in some ways. More humbling. But maybe also more meaningful because I’ve learned to appreciate what my body can do instead of only focusing on what it can’t.

I don’t know if I’m physically stronger than I was before all of this started. Maybe in some ways I am, maybe in others I’m not. But mentally? Without question, I’m stronger than I was before.

This injury forced me to slow down, adapt, and keep showing up even when progress felt invisible. It taught me resilience in a way no motivational quote ever could. It taught me that healing isn’t linear, and that comebacks don’t always look dramatic. Sometimes they look like quietly continuing when you’re exhausted and discouraged.

As for this blog, I don’t plan on continuing it moving forward. Keeping it afloat costs more than I can justify right now, and honestly, this feels like the right place to close the chapter.

But to anyone who found this blog during one of their hardest moments — while sitting in pain after surgery, frustrated with PT, scared about setbacks, or wondering if they’d ever feel normal again — I truly hope something here helped. Even if it just made you feel a little less alone.

That alone made it worth it.

And maybe that’s the real ending to this story: not that I’m “back to normal,” but that I made it through something I once thought might break me.

Here’s to moving forward.