This Setback Hit Harder Than I Expected. Getting Back to Movement After Illness—With AFib, and With Louis

maryrburrell
Mar 28
3 min read

I thought I was ready. After weeks of battling a lung infection, the flu, and a rough patch of AFib (atrial fibrillation), I had my mind set on moving again. Mentally, I felt prepared. I was motivated. I wanted to get back to my routine.

But my body? It hit me with a hard truth: I couldn’t just pick up where I left off.

AFib Doesn’t Follow the Rules

For those who don’t know, AFib is an irregular heart rhythm that can feel like your heart is fluttering, racing, or skipping beats. It leaves you drained—physically and emotionally.

It doesn’t wait for the “right time” to show up. I’ve had it hit during warm-ups, mid-walks, and even while just doing light stretches. And when it does, everything stops. No powering through. No pushing past it. I’ve learned to pause, breathe, and listen.

Recovery Isn’t Linear

This has been a tough reminder that recovery doesn’t go in a straight line. Especially not when you're juggling heart rhythm issues, past illness, or a body that’s been through the wringer.

My stamina isn’t where it used to be. Things that once felt easy—like a simple walk or a few squats—now feel shaky. I’ve had to pause more. Modify more. And some days, I’ve had to skip it altogether.

But here’s the thing: I’m still making progress. It might be slow, but it’s there. My body remembers. Each time I move, it feels a little less uphill.

Louis and I Are in This Together

The beautiful part? I’m not doing this alone. Louis is right there with me. And truth be told, he’s going through his own stretch of hard days, too. This season hasn’t been kind to either of us.

But we’ve been figuring it out—together. Some days, we head out for a short walk. Other days, we just sit with a cup of tea and let the day be what it is. It’s not about grinding. It’s about showing up—for ourselves and each other.

Having someone by your side who truly gets it makes all the difference. We don’t always say much—sometimes just walking together in silence is enough.

***Out here doing what we can, when we can. Walking through recovery together—literally.***

Slower Isn’t Failure

I’ve had to remind myself of this more than once: Going slower isn’t failing.

There are days when my heart acts up or my lungs aren’t ready, and I have to shift plans.

Maybe I swap a workout for a gentle walk. Or maybe I rest altogether. That’s not giving up—it’s being wise. It’s knowing the difference between pushing through and causing harm.

Rest is part of healing. And adapting is strength.

Learning to Listen

One of the biggest lessons I keep learning is to really listen to my body. Some days, I’ve got a little more in the tank. Other days, I need to stay still and let my body catch up.

And you know what? That’s okay. This isn’t a race. It’s a rebuild.

Louis reminds me of that often. And hearing it from someone who’s walking a similar path makes it stick in a deeper way.

Moving Forward, Together

Today felt like a good day. No heart flutters. No shortness of breath. Just a steady, solid walk. I’m not fully “back”—but I’m further than I was last week. And that matters.

Louis and I are taking this one step at a time. Side by side. If you’re in your own season of recovery—whether it’s from AFib, illness, caregiving, or life itself—please hear this: