Most people stop training the second they feel a cold coming on. I take a different approach. Instead of curling up under a blanket for a week, I decided to move—lightly, intentionally, and consistently. I worked out every single day while sick. What happened over the following days genuinely surprised me and taught me more about recovery, mindset, and the power of movement than I expected.

In this post (and in the YouTube video linked here and podcast episode linked here), I’m breaking down the real effects I experienced on my energy, the severity of my illness, and even my strength. Spoiler alert: I didn’t just maintain my fitness. I got stronger.

The underestimated power of movement while sick

We all know that exercise improves long-term health outcomes, but few people connect it with recovery during illness. According to Dr. Peter Attia, author of Outlive, consistent exercise can reduce all-cause mortality rates by up to 35 percent. If it’s that powerful when we’re healthy, I figured it must have benefits even when our bodies are fighting something off.

I’ve learned that the body is designed to move. When we sit still for too long, our systems slow down—our circulation, our lymphatic flow, even our mental sharpness. So instead of avoiding movement, I focused on modifying it. I cut my intensity in half and committed to short sessions of light running, mobility work, and strength training. My goal wasn’t to crush a workout but to move oxygen through my body and give my immune system the support it needed.

Boosting my energy without caffeine

The first thing I noticed was my energy. On day one, I woke up groggy, heavy, and unmotivated. The last thing I wanted to do was exercise. But I made a deal with myself: lace up, head outside, and just run for one mile with my dog. That one mile changed the entire trajectory of my day.

Within minutes, I felt my body waking up. My breathing deepened, my heart rate climbed, and suddenly, the fatigue lifted. I wasn’t cured, but I wasn’t drained either. My energy level shot from a three to a seven, maybe even an eight. And this happened every morning I moved. By the end of the week, I didn’t just feel normal—I felt alive.

I did it all without caffeine. No coffee, no energy drinks, just breath, sunlight, and motion. The more I trained, the more I realized that energy isn’t something we wait to have—it’s something we create.

Managing illness severity with oxygen and endorphins

Here’s what surprised me most: my illness never got worse. It actually felt like I managed to keep it at a steady, mild level the entire week. I had one low day when symptoms were at their peak, but even then, I went out for a short jog. As soon as I started moving, I could literally feel oxygen flowing through my system.

That oxygen wasn’t just fueling my muscles; it was helping me heal. It was sending fresh blood to the tissues that needed repair. At the same time, I could feel the chemical shift in my brain—endorphins kicking in, stress hormones fading, inflammation lowering. That balance made the sickness feel manageable instead of debilitating.

Of course, I’m not saying you should run marathons with pneumonia or lift heavy weights with the flu. What I am saying is that gentle movement—like a walk, yoga, or an easy run—can support your immune response. It’s about listening to your body, not ignoring it. When we move, we help our systems fight back faster.

Maintaining and even gaining strength

One of the biggest fears athletes have when they get sick is losing progress. I’ve been there. You train for weeks, build momentum, then a head cold knocks you off schedule. The next time you hit the gym, your lifts feel heavier, your endurance feels lower, and mentally you feel like you’ve lost ground.

This time was different. By choosing to move every day, even lightly, I kept my muscles active and my nervous system engaged. By the end of the week, I wasn’t weaker—I was stronger. My lifts actually increased, which shocked me. The key was keeping the intensity lower than usual but maintaining the rhythm of training.

Movement, I realized, doesn’t just maintain fitness. It keeps the brain-body connection alive. That connection is what prevents you from feeling like you’re “starting over” after a break. Even small doses of activity preserve your strength and momentum better than total rest ever could.

Why active recovery works better than doing nothing

As an ultra-endurance athlete, recovery is one of the most important aspects of my training. When I prepare for races that require running 50 or 100 miles, I plan my rest weeks just as carefully as my build weeks. What I’ve found is that active recovery—continuing to move while reducing intensity—is far more effective than stopping completely.

When I used to go from 100 miles per week to zero before a race, my body didn’t know how to handle it. My muscles felt sluggish, my energy dipped, and the race never went as well. But when I dropped my mileage by half instead of cutting it out, everything changed. My body stayed primed and recovered faster.

The same logic applies when you’re sick. If you suddenly stop moving, your body doesn’t receive the signals that it needs to repair and replenish. But if you keep moving gently, you’re essentially telling your body, “Stay ready. Keep healing. Keep adapting.” That’s what active recovery really means—staying in motion while allowing your body the space to recover.

The role of breathwork in healing

Breath has always been central to how I train, especially as someone with asthma. When I’m congested or struggling to breathe deeply, I focus on controlled, powerful exhales. It’s my way of clearing space inside my body—literally and metaphorically.

During this sick week, breathing through light movement became a form of therapy. Every inhale sent oxygen through my lungs, and every exhale helped clear congestion. Even when my nose was stuffed, I could feel the relief from deep, rhythmic breathing. It reminded me how interconnected breath, recovery, and resilience really are.

Breathwork also helped me stay present. Instead of obsessing about being sick, I tuned into my breathing patterns, my stride, and my body’s signals. That awareness helped me recognize when I needed to slow down, and when I could push a little harder.

What this experience taught me

By the end of the week, I wasn’t just feeling better—I was reminded of how capable the human body is when we treat it like an ally instead of an obstacle. Movement isn’t punishment. It’s communication. It’s how we tell our bodies, “I still need you, and I’m still showing up.”

Working out while sick taught me that health isn’t just about rest or exertion—it’s about balance. It’s about knowing when to move, how to move, and why movement matters.

I’ve built my entire life around this philosophy as an athlete with asthma. From managing breathing challenges to winning ultra-endurance races, I’ve learned that consistency and breath-centered training are more powerful than any supplement or shortcut.

How you can take this further

If you’re curious how to apply these principles in your own life, start small. The next time you feel under the weather, don’t automatically reach for the couch. Instead, try a short walk, a few minutes of yoga, or some light stretching. Focus on breathing deeply and staying connected to your body.

And if you want a simple framework to build consistency, recovery, and accountability into your routine, download my free Three Pillars of Healthy Living Guide. It covers the three core principles that helped me transform my health: movement, tracking, and accountability.

You don’t have to be at your best to move forward. Sometimes, showing up when you feel your worst is exactly what helps you heal.

DISCLAIMER: THIS INFORMATION IS MY OPINION AND IS NOT INTENDED TO BE A SUBSTITUTE FOR YOUR HEALTHCARE PROVIDER. PLEASE CONSULT A HEALTHCARE PROVIDER FOR GUIDANCE SPECIFIC TO YOUR CASE.