The Day I Stopped Running Through Pain — And Started Moving Without It
For twenty years, I ran.
Not occasionally. Almost every day. 300+ sessions a year. Roughly 3,000–3,300 km annually. Marathons. Half-marathons. 10–12 km on a regular Tuesday.
For a long time, it worked.
Then it didn’t.
Things started hurting. First occasionally. Then regularly. No specific injury with a name. No clean diagnosis. Just a growing sense that the lightness — the reason I started running in the first place — was gone.
And then the story got more serious.
After a thrombosis and pulmonary embolism, I looked at movement completely differently. The question was no longer how much can I run. It became how do I stay active for the long term.
That shift changed everything.
The turning point
For years, my response to pain was simple:
- rest
- or run less
Neither worked.
After rest, everything started over. Running less didn’t answer why it hurt.
So I started thinking differently. Not less movement. Different movement.
The first changes
I introduced weight training. Not based on a program. Based on experience.
- what hurt → I dropped it
- what worked → I kept it
I started with 4 kg dumbbells. Today I work between 10 and 17 kg.
The goal was never to get bigger. It was to get more stable.
The morning routine
- yoga (built around the Five Tibetan Rites)
- inversions
- bodyweight work: plank, side plank, push-ups
Every day starts with 30 minutes of movement. Non-negotiable.
This isn’t a separate workout. It’s the foundation. Like brushing your teeth.
How running changed
I didn’t stop running. But it’s no longer the only thing.
Today I alternate between running and cycling — depending on the season, the week, how the body feels.
The bike didn’t become a substitute. It became relief.
The role of weights
Twice a week, I train with weights. Not bodybuilding:
- stability
- control
- joint protection
One decision I made early: I don’t chase heavier weights indefinitely. When a load feels solid and pain-free, that’s enough. That’s the signal to stay, not to push.
Something new: kettlebell
Recently I added the kettlebell. Not because I had to. Because I needed a new stimulus — without adding more weight.
The main movement: the swing. Short, intense, and a completely different kind of load than anything I’d done before.
The most important realization
The biggest change wasn’t what I trained. It was how I redefined rest days.
Before: rest day = nothing
Now: rest day = a different kind of movement
The system
What I do today isn’t a training plan. It’s a system where each form of movement supports the others.
- running → endurance
- cycling → relief
- weights → stability
- yoga → mobility
- kettlebell → strength and dynamic load
The result
What actually matters to me:
- nothing hurts
- I can move every day
- it’s sustainable
And perhaps the most unexpected part: at 57, I move more — and more varied — than I did at 30.
A note
This isn’t a prescription. Nobody has to do this.
But one thing might be worth considering: not just how much we train, but how we combine different forms of movement.
Every change I made was done alongside medical supervision.
To close
I don’t train more than I used to. Just differently.
And that turned out to be the only number that mattered:
not pace, not distance,
but the fact that nothing hurts.
There are people who run more than I do at 57. People who cycle more, lift more, train harder. Some probably do all of it — better and more than me.
That’s completely fine.
I’m not here to compete. I’m here because I can do all of this together, in one system, pain-free, sustainably — and that still feels like something worth saying out loud.
And if there are others out there who think the same way, it’s good to know I’m not alone.
The question was never who does more.
It’s how long we can keep doing it — with joy, and without pain.