Knowing When to Walk Away

Photo by Daniel's Richard

Becoming My Own Superhero — Part 6

For a long time, I thought progress in the gym was about how much I could push, how many times I could show up, and how hard I could grind.

Twice-a-day workouts felt like proof of commitment — a badge of honour, right?
Having a personal trainer felt like the golden ticket to transformation.

But somewhere along the way, I stopped asking myself an important question:

Is this still working for me?

When I finally paused to reflect, the honest answer was no.

Letting Go of What Once Worked

I wasn’t walking away from the gym — but walking away from my trainer wasn’t easy.

Maybe this happens to everyone who’s had one. That moment where you realise the sessions, advice, and structure that once lifted you up are now holding you back.

I’d invested time, money, and trust. He gave me guidance and knowledge, but after a while, we were stuck on repeat — or at least that’s how I felt.

The same advice, being told over and over again — “Eat more protein. Drink more water. Train harder.” — just wasn’t landing anymore.

It’s not bad advice; it just wasn’t what I needed to hear. Especially when I was already doing all of that.

And that’s the thing about growth — sometimes it asks you to let go of what once worked.

Stepping away wasn’t quitting. I still value everything my trainer taught me. But stepping away, for me, was about realising that respecting the journey also meant respecting myself.

I still believed in my fitness goals — but I needed a new way to reach them.
A new environment.
A new mindset.
A new level of ownership over my progress.

When Discipline Turns into Punishment

I started my journey doing double sessions at the gym.

At the time, it worked. I had the time, and at first, they gave me a rush. I felt unstoppable — outworking everyone, chasing progress through sheer effort.

But eventually, the high faded. My body ached, my motivation dipped, and the mirror stopped reflecting joy.

For me, things had changed — both personally and professionally — and committing to two workouts a day just wasn’t possible anymore.

What started as discipline began to feel like punishment.

When I finally allowed myself to step back, I worried I’d lose momentum or let my trainer down — we’d built a solid friendship.

But what I found was the opposite.

The moment I released the pressure to train twice a day, my mindset reset.

The gym stopped being a battlefield and became what it was always meant to be — a place of release.
A space to move, to breathe, to laugh, and to reconnect with myself.

The Bravery in Walking Away

That’s when I realised something powerful: self-respect isn’t just about sticking it out; it’s about knowing when a path no longer serves you.

We’re conditioned to believe that walking away equals failure. That stopping means surrender.

But sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is step off the treadmill — literally and metaphorically — and chart your own course.

That’s when Thor’s words hit me differently:

“I choose to run toward my problems, and not away from them. Because that’s what heroes do.”
— Thor, Ragnarok

Walking away was me running toward my problem. It wasn’t avoidance — it was ownership.

I wasn’t escaping the challenge; I was confronting it head-on, just differently.

Because sometimes strength looks like pushing forward.
And other times, it looks like knowing when to stop pushing altogether.

Reclaiming My Power

Now, my training is mine again.

I still push myself, I still set goals — but they’re built around balance and curiosity, not pressure.

I tweak my plans, adjust my nutrition, and experiment without guilt — and that’s working for me.

I still measure success, but not by data points or someone else’s voice in my ear.
I measure it by how I feel — strong, centred, and grounded.

The gym is still my sanctuary, but I no longer tie my worth to every rep or weigh-in.
I’m not chasing perfection anymore; I’m chasing peace.

And I’m okay with that.

Because real strength isn’t just about lifting heavy.
Sometimes, it’s about putting the weight down — and choosing yourself.