You Don’t Have to Stop to Recover

Burnout is a crazy thing because it has so much overlap with overtraining.

And you can do both at the same time.

I know because I’m pretty good at trying.

I train across boxing, gymnastics and strength while building businesses. And one of the things I struggle with most isn’t motivation.

It’s rest.

Because there is literally always something I could be doing.

There’s another email to send. Another opportunity to chase. Another session I could fit in. Another skill I could practise. Another problem that apparently needs solving immediately.

Even when things are going well, that doesn’t necessarily make life less stressful.

Sometimes going well creates more things to do.

And that’s where I think our normal idea of recovery falls apart.

You can’t wait until everything is finished

I used to think rest was something you earned after the work was done.

The problem is that if you’re ambitious, the work is never done.

There’s always another level.

Athletes understand this better than most.

You don’t train as hard as physically possible every single day and hope your body keeps up. Training creates stress. Recovery allows you to adapt to it.

Too much stress without enough recovery and eventually performance starts going backwards.

Work isn’t exactly the same, but I’ve increasingly realised the principle carries over.

You can’t constantly take from yourself without putting anything back.

Eventually something gives.

Sometimes recovery means doing less, not doing nothing

This is probably the biggest thing I’ve got better at.

There have been periods of my life where I’ve pushed through everything until my body forced me to stop.

I’ve trained through exhaustion. I’ve had injuries. I’ve treated sleep like an inconvenience.

I’m still not particularly good at doing absolutely nothing.

But I’m much better at recognising when I’m running close to the edge.

And instead of thinking:

100% or 0%.

I’ve learned there’s a massive space in between.

Maybe I still train, but I don’t go hard.

Maybe I still work, but I ignore the call that doesn’t actually need answering today.

Maybe I planned gymnastics tonight, but I decide how I feel later rather than forcing myself to go because it’s on the schedule.

Sometimes recovery isn’t stopping your life. It’s reducing the load enough that your body and brain can catch up.

Recovery has more than one dimension

Sleep is obviously huge.

If I can get eight hours, I’m going to prioritise it.

But I’ve also learned that recovery isn’t just sleep.

Sometimes I need physical recovery: stretching, sauna, massage or using recovery tools like FlowMotion to give my body some attention without adding another training session.

And I think that’s where recovery tools are genuinely useful.

They’re not a substitute for sleep, movement or managing your workload. But when life is busy, anything that makes recovery easier to actually do has value. The best recovery routine isn’t necessarily the most sophisticated one — it’s the one you can consistently fit into your life.

Sometimes I need sensory recovery: less noise, fewer screens, fewer people wanting something from me.

Sometimes it’s mental: journalling, getting everything out of my head and onto paper.

Sometimes it’s emotional: actually seeing people I care about without turning it into another thing on the schedule.

And sometimes recovery is simply accepting that I’ve done what I can today.

The rest can wait.

The goal isn’t to win every day

I’ll be real: this hasn’t been the most vital, energetic period of my year.

It’s been a slog.

And I think that’s worth saying because wellness gets presented as though, if you’re doing everything correctly, you’re permanently operating at 100%.

That’s not real life.

Sometimes you’re moving house, work is going crazy, relationships need attention, you’re training, things go wrong and everything seems to happen at once.

You can’t always remove the stress.

What you can do is adjust your response to it.

Train a little less.

Sleep a little more.

Create some space.

Deal with what you can control and, occasionally, say fuck it to what you can’t.

Because ultimately it’s a marathon, not a sprint.

I’d rather move at 70% for a while and still be in the race than insist on 100% until I crash out completely.

Recovery isn’t separate from performance.

Recovery is what lets you keep performing.