They say that age is just a number, but for a while there, it felt more like a heavy weight I hadn’t trained to lift.
I’ve always been active. Growing up in South Australia, I wasn’t the "star athlete" of the family, my parents preferred a casual game of backyard tennis over structured leagues, but at school, I found my rhythm in the pool and on the pavement. I’m tall, long-limbed, and I’ll be the first to admit I’ve inherited that classic "tall girl slouch." But I had stamina; I could grind out the kilometers on sheer determination alone.
When I met my husband, Chris, in my twenties, my world changed. Coming from a family of AFL royalty, sport was in his DNA. His discipline was infectious. Through my 20s and 30s, I was the fittest I’d ever been, gym sessions, running clubs, and swim squads were my sanctuary.
Then, life happened
Three active kids, a husband with a demanding career, and the whirlwind of starting my own business meant that the time I once carved out for myself slowly eroded. By the time the pandemic hit, paired with the natural shift of hormones in my late 40s, I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise the woman looking back. My clothes didn’t fit, and simple tasks like climbing stairs or lifting a box made me acutely aware of every joint in my body.
The Breaking Point
It wasn’t one single injury that sidelined me; it was a cumulative "falling apart".The emotional turmoil of hormonal shifts, which I honestly liken to a second puberty, left me feeling lost. While my endocrinologist was instrumental in helping me balance my internal chemistry, my physical body was still screaming for help.Sitting at a desk for hours on end building a business, time just slips away. I’d often find a whole day had passed where my only movement was the short trek from my desk to the kitchen or bathroom. My lower back eventually paid the invoice for that lack of movement. By the end of the day, finding any position of ease felt impossible. I felt like an old woman in the way I moved: stiff, restricted, and weary.
The Solution Under My Nose
It’s natural to find comfort in heat. We’re trained from childhood to reach for a warm bath or a hot water bottle to soothe discomfort. I find it slightly embarrassing to admit that, despite spending most of my waking hours thinking about cryotherapy, I was neglecting my own expertise. I was like the accountant who forgets to do their own taxes or the gardener with the overgrown backyard.
The solution was right in front of me.
I finally strapped on our Back Ice Compression Pack, and the relief was immediate. My joints were inflamed, and I realised that applying heat was only feeding that fire: icing was what reduced the inflammation.I started wearing the pack while I worked at my desk. Slowly, the referred pain shooting down my legs began to disappear. It felt like a miracle. After just 20 minutes, everything felt lighter, and movement became easier.
The Domino Effect
A month into this routine, I’ve learned that I can control the pain. That realisation gave me the confidence to head back to the gym and start lifting heavy weights again. My technique has returned because I can finally move freely, no longer inhibited by that deep lumbar tightness.
It has been a chain reaction: my muscle strength has improved, I’m finally activating my core again, and my energy has shifted.
The bottom line? Sometimes the answer is the simplest thing right in front of us. Whether I’m at my desk, making dinner, or lying in bed before sleep, the simple act of icing has changed the trajectory of my health. My spine is moving, the pain has receded, and every element of life has become just that little bit easier.
If you’ve been "grinding it out" and feeling the weight of the years, take it from me: you don't have to just live with it. Sometimes, you just need to break the cycle of inflammation to find yourself again.
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