Tuesday Truth: The Fire Doesn’t Go Out — It Just Learns to Burn Differently

 Sometimes healing feels less like a comeback and more like wandering through a version of yourself you don’t completely recognize.

This week, something unexpected landed in my mailbox: a bright blue medal from my Chicago charity team. It should’ve been a simple memento — a thank-you for fundraising. But in my hand, it felt like a bittersweet hello from the past. A reminder of the goals I carried into the year. A reminder that I didn’t hit the time I desperately wanted.

For a moment, it stung.

And honestly? It still does.

This past month, I’ve been quietly licking my wounds. Trying to make sense of a year that didn’t go the way I scripted it in my head. Before my injury, I felt like I was set on fire from the inside — unstoppable, electric, hungry. I believed I could do anything. And lately, that feeling has been dim. Muted. Almost like someone turned the brightness all the way down.

And the truth is:

I’ve felt a little lost without that spark.

But holding that medal reminded me of something important — something I think someone else out there might need to hear too:

The fire doesn’t disappear.

It just burns quieter while you heal.

The athlete I was over a year ago, pre injury, isn’t gone. She’s just evolving. She’s learning patience, and resilience, and what it feels like to rebuild without the rush of momentum behind her. She’s learning that you don’t have to feel “on fire” to keep moving forward.

And maybe that’s the real Tuesday Truth:

Sometimes your spark comes back in tiny embers first.

And that’s still enough to start again.

I’ve got a half marathon in less than a month.

Is it scary? Yes.

Do I feel fully ready? Not even a little.

But something in me is curious — hopeful even — that maybe this race will be the clean slate I need. A reminder that a year isn’t wasted just because the clock didn’t say what I wanted it to.

Maybe it’s not about proving I’m still fast.

Maybe it’s about remembering I’m still capable.

So here’s to the quiet fires.

The slow rebuilds.

The chapters where your confidence whispers instead of shouts.

And the brave decision to show up anyway.

Because sometimes, that’s all it takes to start feeling like yourself again. 💙🐾