Training with Chronic Illness: My 5 Must-Do’s After 5 Open Heart Surgeries

What I focus on to move my body safely, steadily and with purpose – minus the 8-week glow-up hype.

Let’s get one thing clear upfront: I’m not a personal trainer, influencer, or expert. I’m just someone who’s had five open heart surgeries, lives with complex chronic illness, and still wants to train in a way that supports my long-term health.

I used to think that a lot of the training advice out there – especially the stuff aimed at athletes or people training for performance – wouldn’t apply to me. I felt like such an amateur, and honestly, a bit out of place. But over time, I’ve realised that some of that information actually does apply. I’ve learned to take what’s relevant and adapt it to my life, my body, and my goals. It’s been empowering to find that I don’t have to reinvent the wheel – I can tweak it to roll in my direction.

I’m sharing what works for me – not as a rulebook, but as a peek into how I approach movement, recovery, and mindset. If you’re living with chronic illness and want to move your body in a sustainable way, this might give you a few ideas to think about and then go talk to your specialist or Exercise Physiologist.

Here are my five must-do’s when it comes to training as someone who’s got a very lived-in body…

1. Nutrition: Fuel for function, not restriction

For me, food is about giving my body the tools it needs to keep going. I’ve had to rethink everything I thought I knew about nutrition. I no longer eat based on trends or restriction – I eat to support energy, repair, and resilience. That means I prioritise whole foods, adequate protein, and enough carbohydrates to match my training load.

I’ve also realised that for people with chronic illness, underlying nutritional issues can derail progress. Low iron has been a big one for me – it impacts everything from energy levels to heart function. I regularly check my iron studies, B12, and vitamin D with my doctor and adjust as needed. I’ve also found Dr Stacey Sims’ work helpful in understanding how female physiology changes the game, especially around hormones and energy availability.

This isn’t about perfect eating – it’s about being strategic with food so I can actually fuel for the things I want to do.

2. Exercise Physiologist = game changer

A generic training plan doesn’t cut it for me. I work with an accredited exercise physiologist who builds programs that actually align with my health history, surgical scars, cardiac limitations and personal goals. It’s not about smashing PBs – it’s about building strength, stamina and confidence in a way that’s safe and progressive.

Sometimes we focus on walking capacity, other times it’s rehab-style strength work, or improving how my heart responds to movement. The best part? It’s all tailored. No pressure to keep up with anyone else. I also check in with my cardiologist when needed, especially if something feels off or I’m planning to try something new. Having that medical oversight helps me feel confident in what I’m doing.

This team-based approach means I’m not second-guessing everything, and I’m not wasting energy on things that won’t serve me.

3. I actively regulate my nervous system

This one is a non-negotiable for me. My body sometimes interprets physical exertion as a threat, thanks to years of surgery, ICU stays and recovery trauma. Even when I know I’m safe, my nervous system can spiral into fight-or-flight mode just from a brisk walk.

To counter that, I weave in nervous system regulation every week. Yoga Nidra, tapping (EFT), calming breathwork and proper rest days are essential parts of my routine. These aren’t extras – they’re part of the plan. When I skip them, my nervous system feels rattled, my sleep suffers, and training gets harder.

I’ve learned that my body doesn’t just need exercise – it needs reassurance. So I train with care, and I recover with intention.

4. I go at my own pace (yes, it’s slow!)

There is so much pressure to move fast, level up, and hit goals in record time. But I’ve learned that going slow is not a weakness – it’s wisdom. My pace might look gentle from the outside, but inside, it’s deeply strategic.

I’ve stopped comparing my training to other people’s. I’m not interested in 6-week transformations or pushing through pain. I care about long-term consistency. That means doing a little often, listening to what my body is telling me, and adjusting when things flare up. Some days, I need extra rest. Some weeks, I take it right back to basics. And that’s okay.

Success for me is showing up over time – not proving something in a short window.

5. I track everything – and love it

Tracking might sound intense, but for me, it’s how I stay engaged. I track my training stats, heart rate zones, how many minutes I’ve walked, my pace, my nutrition, and even how well I’ve regulated my nervous system. I track my expenses too – especially when it comes to supplements, appointments or gear.

It’s not about being obsessive. It’s about staying connected to my body and celebrating patterns of progress. When you live with chronic illness, progress isn’t always visible. You might not look any different, but your recovery time might be better. Your energy might last longer. Your heart rate might respond more smoothly.

Tracking helps me notice and honour those shifts. It keeps me motivated when things feel slow.

Bonus: What my current training week looks like

If you're curious, here's a snapshot of what my training week usually looks like right now. It’s not perfect, and I change things up depending on how I’m feeling, but it gives me a helpful rhythm:

• Monday – Rest day
• Tuesday – Interval walk: 5 minutes at a steady pace, followed by 1 minute walking a bit faster, repeated 5 times
• Wednesday – Strength training at the gym using a program from my exercise physiologist
• Thursday – Rest day
• Friday – Hill training: 3 minutes walking uphill, 3 minutes downhill, repeat 5 times while keeping my heart rate under 130
• Saturday – Pilates
• Sunday – Long walk (8km or more)

Some days I’m just going through the motions. Some rest days I’m completely wiped and need extra downtime. And some weeks I mix things up completely depending on what else is happening in my life. Flexibility is part of what makes this work for me.

Your program might look entirely different – and that’s completely fine. I’ve been working up to this level of training for about 18 months, slowly and steadily. I’m not sharing this to compare or influence anyone, just to show what’s possible when things are adapted to your own body, pace, and goals.

Final thoughts

Training with chronic illness doesn’t mean doing less – it means doing what matters. I’ve learned to work with my body, not against it. To prioritise recovery just as much as reps. And to celebrate the kind of progress you can’t always see on Instagram.

If this resonates with you, I’d love to hear what works for you. Whatever your version of “training” looks like – you’re allowed to take up space, go at your pace, and do it your way.

P.S.

Adulting Well was started to give people, just like you, more knowledge so you could make the best choices possible – even with chronic illness.

• Subscribe to the mailing list and get practical tips and stories that resonate straight to your inbox here.
• Finally, find out what’s stopping you from having the career of your dreams so you can eliminate it and climb the corporate ladder! Get the free ebook: How to Have a Creer with Chronic Illness.
• Discover 5 simple and actionable steps you can do to get on top of your finances, even when you have chronic illness, in this FREE ebook.