Understanding the Unique Fatigue of Hashimoto’s Disease
If you had asked me a decade ago what it meant to be tired, I would have described the exhaustion after a rigorous workout or a long day of teaching back-to-back classes. For most of my life, I was active and believed that fatigue could be overcome through exercise or rest. However, the kind of tiredness associated with Hashimoto’s disease is entirely different — it’s an all-encompassing, deep-seated fatigue that sleep and physical activity can’t alleviate.
For years, I dismissed my symptoms as normal. I was teaching multiple Peloton classes weekly, living in New York City, and constantly on the move. Of course, I was tired — wasn’t everyone? I’d fall asleep on the subway and wake up miles past my stop, laugh it off, and keep going. Looking back, I now understand that my body had been sending distress signals for a long time, but I lacked the vocabulary to recognize them.
When Your Body Starts Working Against You
Hashimoto’s is an autoimmune condition and the most common cause of an underactive thyroid. In this case, my immune system attacks my thyroid gland, which produces hormones that regulate energy, metabolism, and other bodily functions. When the thyroid slows down, so does everything else. Energy levels drop, metabolism slows, and the body no longer feels like its own. It’s not just physical tiredness — it’s a type of fatigue that’s hard to describe unless you’ve experienced it yourself.
At the time, my mother was waiting for a kidney transplant, and I remember constantly telling myself, “She’s more tired than I am. I’m fine. I’m just being lazy.” I minimized my symptoms out of guilt and comparison, which delayed my diagnosis. Many women fall into this cycle — downplaying their pain because someone else “has it worse.”
The Journey to Diagnosis
When I finally sought 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’re tired, you’re a fitness instructor. But deep down, I knew it was different. When I finally found a doctor who listened, my blood work revealed what I’d been feeling all along. My endocrinologist looked at me and said, “Most people with your levels don’t go to work.” I remember replying, “I didn’t know that was an option.”
Redefining Strength and Health
Hearing that your body is attacking itself is heartbreaking, especially when your entire life revolves around movement, energy, and motivation. For a long time, I grieved the version of myself I thought I’d lost: the one who could go full throttle every day without consequence. I had to let go of that story before I could write a new one.
Once I accepted that my body needed different care, I began to move with intention instead of intensity. I started living by a mantra that continues to guide me today: Treat your body like it belongs to someone you love.
That 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, your setbacks, or your 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” looks like crushing a class. Other days, it’s taking a nap — and that’s okay.
Movement as Medicine
Living with Hashimoto’s has reshaped the way I think about fitness. Movement is no longer about perfection or performance; it’s about gratitude. I like to say, it’s a blessing to be sore. I think back to the moments when I was too exhausted to move and remind myself that being able to exercise at all is something I once wished for.
For anyone struggling with low energy — whether from Hashimoto’s, postpartum recovery, or simply the ups and downs of life — my advice is simple: start small. Movement doesn’t have to be an ordeal to be effective. Ten minutes of stretching, a gentle ride, or even a walk counts. A little movement goes a long way.
There’s an old-school mentality in fitness that if you’re not drenched in sweat and questioning your life choices by the end of a workout, it doesn’t count. I couldn’t disagree more. Especially when managing an autoimmune condition, doing less with more focus can be just as powerful and far more sustainable.
How I Train Now with Hashimoto’s
These days, my week is a mix of cycling, strength training, dance, Pilates, and restorative movement. I lift weights a few times a week — usually one upper-body day, one lower-body, and one that targets the whole body. But if my energy is low or inflammation flares, I scale back. Listening to my body is non-negotiable.
I also prioritize recovery like it’s a workout in itself. Foam rolling and stretching help me check in with my body — where am I holding tension? What needs care today? Sometimes, I’ll find myself rolling my shoulders and realize I’ve been carrying stress there all week. That awareness helps me release it before it turns into pain.
And on days when my schedule is hectic and I’m teaching multiple classes, I give myself permission to rest. I’ve learned that strength isn’t just measured in reps or miles — it’s in knowing when to pull back.
Why Awareness Matters for Hashimoto’s
Thyroid disorders are far more common than people realize, especially among women, yet they often go undiagnosed or misdiagnosed. Fatigue, weight changes, brain fog — these symptoms are easy to brush off or attribute to stress, aging, or lifestyle. But if something feels off, trust your gut and advocate for yourself. You know your body better than anyone.
Raising awareness matters because early diagnosis can be life-changing. It gives people the language to describe what they’re feeling and the tools to get help sooner. No one should spend years convincing others that their tired isn’t “normal.”
Listening to My Body — and Loving It Anyway
Living with Hashimoto’s has taught me that health isn’t linear. Some days, I feel like myself. Others, I don’t. That’s okay. The key is listening to how my body feels today — not six months ago, and not six months from now.
Maybe that means modifying a workout. Maybe saying no to an extra commitment. Maybe taking a nap. What matters is showing up with honesty and kindness towards yourself.
When you treat your body like it belongs to someone you love — with patience, respect, and care — you start to realize that strength isn’t about never slowing down. It’s about knowing when to stop, listen, and start again.
