Things I’ve Learned From Sitting on the Sidelines

There's nothing quite like life benching you, whether it's due to a rogue cancer recurrence, a missing limb, or just the sheer weight of existence and time slowly turning your body into a squeaky tin man. I've spent some time on the sidelines, and it isn't always the obvious things that take me out. Right now, I'm doing minimal walking because my leg is quite literally falling off. I've had some volume change in my residual limb, and my socket is now loose enough that it isn't staying on securely enough for me to walk "normally". So I get to wait around for a few weeks while a new, custom-fit socket gets made for me. I feel so blessed that I even have this option, but I won't say I'm not annoyed that my regular power walk shopping sessions have been interrupted.

When you're used to being "in it", the planner, the doer with snacks and sarcasm at the ready, sitting out can feel like failure. Like you're missing the game-winning shot and the team pizza party after.

But over time (and with a few pity cupcakes), I started seeing things differently. Turns out, the sidelines aren't a punishment. They're a perspective shift. And the view? Surprisingly valuable. Here's what I've learned. Don't sweat the small stuff. Most of what upsets us in life isn’t worth the energy. I used to stress about everything, missed texts, awkward silences, people who clearly didn’t understand the concept of a turning signal. But when your body forces you into survival mode, your priorities shift fast. Suddenly, you’re not worried about whether your Instagram post flopped; you’re just proud you managed to shower and put on pants before 2 p.m.

I’ve learned that peace isn’t in controlling every detail, it’s in letting go of the ones that never really mattered. So the dishwasher’s loaded all wrong? Cool. Someone forgot to include you in a group chat? No biggie. Life’s too short to fight every battle, especially when you could be saving that energy for something that actually lights you up—or at the very least, for the uphill walk to your doctor’s office.

Enjoy the little things. When life slows you down, by force or by choice, you start noticing the stuff you used to rush right past. Like how your coffee tastes better when you’re not drinking it while trying to parallel park. Or how the sun hits just right through the window when you're lying down because your leg is throwing a full-blown protest about walking more than 300 feet.

I used to chase big moments. But now? Now I celebrate the small stuff with champagne and French fries. The little things are what stack up to make a hard day feel softer. They’re what remind you that joy doesn’t always have to be loud or planned. Sometimes it’s just a deep breath, a good meme, and a snack you didn’t have to share.

You don't have to stay on the sidelines. Sure, you are dealing with something right now that makes it harder to do the things you love. But does it make it impossible? Maybe you can’t run the race, but you can still show up, cheer loud, and walk the last stretch with swag. Or, if you really, really want it, you can train hard and track down the right adaptive equipment to help you make that dream a reality. It certainly hasn't been easy, but I've managed to do much more in this new, different body than I thought I would.

The truth is, you can still live a big, beautiful, messy life—even with limitations. Even with setbacks. Even if you have to pause, pivot, or sit down in the middle of it all and catch your breath. The sidelines may have taught you a lot—but they don’t define you.

So when you're ready, stand up (or scoot, limp, or dramatically roll in—your call) and get back in there on your own terms.