If you had asked me 10 years ago what exhaustion felt like, I would have described exhaustion after a double workout or a long day of teaching classes. I’ve been active my whole life and fatigue was always something I thought I could exercise or sleep off. But the type of fatigue that comes with Hashimoto’s disease is different—it’s an all-out, bone-deep fatigue that sleep can’t fix and exercise can’t shake.
For years I told myself it was normal. I was teaching several Peloton classes a week, living in New York and always on the go. Of course, I’m tired, isn’t everyone? I fell asleep on the subway and walked miles from my stop, laughed it off and kept pushing. Looking back, I realize that my body had been sending me anxiety signals for a long time, I just didn’t have the vocabulary to recognize them.
When your body is working against you
Hashimoto’s disease is an autoimmune condition and the most common cause of thyroid. Basically, my immune system is attacking my thyroid gland, which produces hormones that control energy, metabolism, and more. When the thyroid is weak, so is everything else. Your energy drops, your metabolism slows, and your body doesn’t feel like itself. It’s not just physical fatigue. It’s a type of fatigue that’s hard to describe unless you’ve experienced it yourself.
My mom was waiting for a kidney transplant at the time, and I remember constantly telling myself, “She’s more tired than me, I’m fine. I’m just being lazy.” I dismissed my symptoms of guilt and comparison, which I think delayed my diagnosis. Many women fall into this loop – minimizing our pain because someone else “has it worse”.
When I finally did seek medical help, it took years and the right care team to get real answers. Doctors initially dismissed my fatigue as a byproduct of my active lifestyle. Of course you are tired, you are a fitness instructor. But deep down I knew it was different. When I finally found a doctor who would listen, my blood work revealed what I had been feeling all along. My endocrinologist looked at me and said, “Most people with your level don’t work.” I remember answering, “I didn’t know that was an option.”
Redefining strength and health
Hearing your body attack itself is heartbreaking, especially when your entire life revolves around movement, energy, and motivation. For a long time, I was obsessed with the version of myself I thought I was missing: the one who could go full throttle every day without results. I have to leave this story before I write a new one.
Once I accepted that my body needed different care, I moved with intention instead of tension. I began to live by a mantra that guides me today: Treat your body like it belongs to someone you love.
It means listening—really listening—to what your body is asking for, rather than punishing it for what it can’t do. It means reminding yourself that you are more than your symptoms, failures or excuses. I often say, be better than your best excuse, not as a call to push harder, but to approach your limits with compassion. Some days, “better” is like failing a class. Other days, it sleeps – and that’s good.
Movement as medicine
Living with Hashimoto’s has changed the way I think about fitness. Movement is no longer about perfection or fulfillment, but about gratitude. I mean, being in pain is a blessing. I think back to times when I was too tired to move and remind myself that being able to exercise is something I once dreamed of.
For anyone struggling with low energy—whether from recovering from Hashimoto’s, postpartum, or just the ups and downs of life—my advice is simple: start small. Movement doesn’t have to be a test to be effective. Ten minutes of stretching, gentle riding or even walking is important. A little movement goes a long way.
There’s an old-school mindset in fitness that if you’re not drenched in sweat at the end of a workout and questioning your life choices, it doesn’t count. I couldn’t agree more. Especially when managing an autoimmune condition, doing less with more focus can be more powerful and sustainable.
How I deal with Hashimoto’s now
These days, my week is a mix of cycling, strength training, dancing, Pilates and rehabilitation movement. I lift weights a few times a week – usually one upper body day, one lower body day and another that targets the entire body. But if my energy dips or my inflammation flares up, I scale back. It is impossible to listen to my body.
I also prioritize recovery because it’s a workout. Foam grips and stretches help me check in with my body – where am I holding tension? What needs to be taken care of today? Sometimes I find myself rolling my shoulders and realizing that I’ve been stressed out there all week. This awareness helps me to let it go before it becomes a pain.
And on days when my schedule is hectic and I teach a lot of classes, I allow myself to relax. I’ve learned that strength isn’t just measured in reps or miles—it’s in knowing when to back off.
Why awareness is important for Hashimoto’s
Thyroid disorders are more common than people realize, especially among women, but they are often undiagnosed or misdiagnosed. Fatigue, weight changes, brain fog – these symptoms are easily dismissed because of stress, aging or lifestyle. But if something feels off, trust your gut and stand up for yourself. You know your body best.
Raising awareness is important because early diagnosis can be life-changing. It gives people a language for how they feel and the tools to get help faster. No one should have to spend years trying to convince others that their fatigue is not “normal.”
I listen to my body and love it anyway
Living with Hashimoto’s has taught me that health is not linear. Some days I feel like myself. Others, I don’t. This is good. The key to this is listening to how my body feels today – not six months ago or six months later.
Maybe it means changing the exercise. Maybe say no to additional commitment. Maybe rest. The important thing is to be honest and kind to yourself.
When you treat your body like it belongs to someone you love—with patience, respect, and care—you realize that strength never fades. It’s about knowing when to stop, listen, and start again.
