Every champion eventually faces a control + alt + delete. The question is, will you fear the reset—or use it?

When was the last time you felt like a beginner again?

For me, it was after back-to-back knee surgeries. Months away from the lanes. Months of rehab bands, mobility drills, and more ice packs than I ever want to count again. And even though I knew it was necessary, even though I trusted the process, that little whisper of fear kept showing up: What if I lost it? What if time away erased everything I’d spent a lifetime building?

It’s a strange place to be—standing at the edge of something you know intimately, and yet feeling like a stranger about to walk in. That moment where confidence and doubt collide.

But here’s the thing: when I finally stepped back on the approach, it wasn’t like relearning. It was like riding a bike. My body remembered. The repetition, the muscle memory, the years of work—they were all still there, ingrained. What had changed wasn’t my ability, but my relationship to it. I was moving without pain. I had stability I hadn’t felt in years. And in that instant at the line, when everything clicked back into place, I knew the risk had paid off. The surgeries, the rehab, the patience—it was all worth it.

That moment gave me a new perspective: being a beginner again isn’t always about losing ground. Sometimes it’s about stepping into a chapter that couldn’t have existed without everything you just walked through.

We think “beginning” means fragile, uncertain, clumsy. But what if it means powerful? What if it means renewed? Because the truth is, when you’ve poured decades into something, it doesn’t disappear after time away. It lives inside you. It waits. And when you return, you bring not just your old skills—but new strength, fresh perspective, and a deeper appreciation for the thing you almost thought you lost.

That’s what being a beginner really is: permission to evolve. Permission to shake off what was weighing you down and step into what’s next.

And here’s where it gets universal. Maybe it’s not knees and lanes for you. Maybe it’s a new career after years in a comfortable role. Maybe it’s picking up a passion you left behind because life got busy. Maybe it’s daring to try something you’ve secretly dreamed about but never had the courage to start.

Whatever it is—don’t let the label of “beginner” scare you off. That flutter of uncertainty in your stomach? That’s not weakness—it’s proof you’re alive. Proof you’re still growing. Proof you’re brave enough to risk transformation.

So here’s my advice: don’t run from that feeling. Lean into it. Celebrate it. Beginning again doesn’t erase who you were. It reveals who you’re becoming.

And the best part? You’re not starting from zero. You’re starting from experience, from grit, from resilience. You’re starting with everything you’ve already built stitched into you. Which means you’re not just beginning again—you’re beginning stronger.

Because that’s the secret nobody tells you: being a beginner again isn’t about going backward. It’s about moving forward with courage. And that’s how champions are made.