MS Fighter

Multiple sclerosis isn‘t just a disease of the body—it’s a war against the mind. It can feel like an invisible opponent that wears you down from the inside out. The fatigue, the pain, the unpredictable symptoms—it’s like stepping into the ring blindfolded, never knowing where the next punch is coming from. The hardest battles aren’t fought in the gym, in the doctor’s office, or even in the daily grind of symptoms. The hardest battles happen in your head. When your body is screaming at you to stay down, when self-doubt creeps in, when the weight of the fight feels like too much—that’s when true mental strength is tested. I’ve had days when my body refuses to cooperate, where just getting out of bed feels like a full-body workout. I’ve had moments where I’ve questioned everything—my strength, my goals, my ability to keep pushing forward. But I’ve also learned that those moments, the ones where giving up seems easiest, are the exact moments that define who you are.

Mental toughness isn’t about feeling unstoppable every day—it’s about knowing that even on your worst days, you can keep moving forward. For me, it’s about finding strength in the struggle, refusing to let my circumstances dictate my mindset, and showing up even when every part of me wants to quit. This post isn’t just about MS—it’s about resilience and discipline. It’s about refusing to let anything—disease, doubt, pain—take control of your life. As I use to say MS may be a part of me, but it doesn’t get to define me. And if you’re reading this, it doesn’t define you either. So let’s dig deep about what it really takes to stay mentally strong when everything feels stacked against you. Your strength isn’t just about muscles—it’s about your mindset. And the fight is ongoing.

Accepting The Struggle, But Not Giving In.

For a long time, I believed that real strength meant ignoring the struggle—pushing through without acknowledging the weight of what I was dealing with. I thought admitting that MS affected me was the same as letting it win. But that mindset was a trap. It wasn’t strength—it was denial. And denial doesn’t make you tougher—it just makes the fall hit harder when reality catches up. True strength isn’t about pretending the struggle doesn’t exist. It’s about facing it head-on, accepting it for what it is, and choosing to fight anyway. Remember Acceptance doesn’t mean surrender. When I say “accept the struggle”, I don’t mean roll over and let MS run your life. I mean recognizing that this fight is real—acknowledging the bad days, the pain, the fatigue—so you can adapt, adjust, improvise, and keep moving forward. Acceptance is the difference between the two mindsets

• Denial: I don’t have limits, I’ll just push through. This will eventually lead to burnout, frustration, and feeling like a failure when things don’t go as planned.
• Acceptance: I have limits, but I’ll find ways to work with them, not against them. This will lead to smarter training, better recovery, and long-term progress.

I used to beat myself up when I couldn’t lift as heavy, when I had to take a rest day, or when my energy crashed out of nowhere. I still do it from time-to-time. But what did that attitude accomplish? Absolutely nothing. I only wasted my energy fighting a reality I couldn’t change. Now, instead of wasting my time wishing things were different, I focus on what I can control. Once I accepted that MIS is part of my life, I started playing this game smarter, not just harder.

• If I wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck? I don’t scrap the workout—I adjust it. Maybe I focus on mobility, lighter weights, or recovery work instead
• If my energy is low? I don’t let frustration take over—I prioritize what needs to get done and cut out the unnecessary distractions
• If I’m in pain? I don’t let it become an excuse—I find movement patterns that don’t aggravate it.

It’s not about giving in—it’s about refusing to stop. I can’t, and neither can you, deny the fact that I have MS, but I can control how I respond to it. That’s where real strength comes from. There’s a fine line between being strong and being stubborn. Strength is about endurance, resilience, and playing the long game. Stubbornness is refusing to adjust even when it’s hurting you. I’ve learned the difference the hard way. There were times I pushed through symptoms just to prove a point, only to set myself back for days or weeks. That’s not toughness—that’s ego. Ego is, to this day, my most dangerous enemy and I fight this enemy every single day. However in this fight, ego is dead weight. Being strong isn’t about ignoring your body—it’s about listening to it, understanding it, and finding ways to outsmart the obstacles in front of you. You have to own the fight. MS is part of your life and you don’t have a choice in that (at least for now, there might be a “cure” for the disease in the future). But what you do have is choice in is how you respond. I choose to fight—not by pretending struggle isn’t there, but by accepting it, adapting, and proving to myself every single day that I’m still in control. And you should too. Thus, if you’re out there battling your own struggles, remember this:

• Acceptance isn’t weakness.
• Adjusting isn’t quitting.
• And no matter what’s in your way, you always have another move to make.

You don’t have to pretend the fight is easy. You just have to refuse to back down.

Reframing Pain and Fatigue as Challenges, Not Setbacks.

One of the hardest things about MS is that it constantly tests your limits. Pain feels like a dull, relentless background noise, it can be sharp and unforgiving. Fatigue isn’t just being tired—it’s like your body is running on an empty battery, no matter how much you rest. If I let in, this disease could make me feel like I’m in a constant state of falling behind. But remember, setbacks only exist if you see them as setbacks. The way you frame the struggle determines whether you’re beaten by it or whether you rise to meet it. Every challenge in life gives you primarily two choices:

1. You can see it as an obstacle—something that blocks your path and keeps you from moving forwards.
2. Or you can see it as resistance—something that, when you push through it, makes you stronger.

Pain and fatigue are like extra weight on the barbell of life. If you see them as something unfair that holds you back, they will crush you. But if you view them as something that forces you to adapt, grow, and become tougher, then every hard day becomes part of your training. It’s the same principle I apply in the gym. Strength isn’t built by lifting weights that are easy—it’s built by pushing against resistance. And the exact same principle applies to MS.

• Fatigue teaches you efficiency. I’ve learned to prioritize my energy, cut out distractions, and focus on what truly matters.
• Pain teaches you resilience. Instead of letting it dictate my life, I work around it, adjust my training, and prove to myself that I can handle discomfort.
• Unpredictability teaches you adaptability. MS forces me to be flexible with my plans. That’s not weakness—it’s a skill.

You have to simply adapt the fighters’ mentality—to control what you can and to endure what you must. In boxing, you don’t win by avoiding hits entirely—you win by learning how to take them, roll with them, and stay on your feet. Pain and fatigue are the punches life throws at me, and instead of letting them knock me out, I’ve learned how to take the hits and keep fighting. Of course there are days you feel wrecked, so do I. My body feels slow, my legs feel heavy, and my energy is at (almost) zero. Those are the days when the mental fight is everything. That’s when I remind myself…If I can’t push heavy weights, I can still move…If I can’t go all out, I can focus on quality reps, mobility, or technique…If my body is fighting me, I focus on what’s within my control—my mindset, my nutrition, my recovery, and my attitude. MS tries to dictate the terms of the fight—don’t let it do so.

This above is not easy at all. There are days when the fatigue is overwhelming and the pain is unbearable. But instead of seeing things as signs of weakness or failure, I treat them as part of the process.

• Fatigue teaches me to be smarter, more intentional, and more disciplined.
• Pain reminds me that I’m still in this fight. As long as I’m feeling something, I’m still here.
• And every single day that I keep going, no matter how hard it gets, I’m proving that MS doesn’t own me.

Reframing pain and fatigue isn’t about ignoring them, not at all—it’s about refusing to let them define you. It’s about taking what’s meant to break you and turning it into fuel. Make your days count. Even the hardest ones.

The Power of Rituals. Controlling What I Can.

This disease is indeed unpredictable. One day, I feel strong, all set up to crush my workout, attack my goals, and handle life like a champ. The very next day, it feels like I’m moving through quicksand—fatigue pressing down on me, muscles refusing to cooperate, brain fog turning every simple tasks into a struggle. If I let it, this unpredictability could wreck my confidence and make me feel powerless. But no matter how unpredictable MS is, there are always things within my control. That’s where rituals come in. They’re not just habits—they’re anchors. In a world where my body sometimes feels like it’s working against me, these rituals give me stability, focus, and a sense of control. Why these rituals matter? When everything feels chaotic, rituals create order. They take the guesswork out of my day, allowing me to focus on doing rather than overthinking. When my body feels off, my rituals remind me that I still have control over how I respond. Rituals also conserve energy. MS fatigue isn’t like being tired after a long day—it’s like your body’s battery is drained before you even start. Having structured routines eliminates decision fatigue, so I don’t waste energy on unnecessary choices. Instead, I save my energy for what actually matters. I will discuss more of my rituals in future posts.

Cutting Out Weakness. Including Negative Self-Talk.

There was a time when I let MS make me feel weak—not just physically, but mentally. The worst part wasn’t the fatigue, the pain, or the unpredictability—it was the voice in my head whispering You’re not strong enough. You’re not the same anymore. What if you just can’t do this?

That voice is the real enemy.

Weakness isn’t just about how much weight you can lift or how fast you can move. It’s about the mindset you carry. And negative self-talk? That’s like letting an opponent inside your head before the fight even starts. If you let it stay, it will break you down from the inside. That’s why I’ve made it my mission to cut out weakness—starting with the way I speak to myself. Indeed, negative self-talk is your worst enemy. Your body can be pushed to insane limits, but your mind will give up long before your muscles do. If your inner voice is working against you, it doesn’t matter how strong or capable you are—you’ll start believing the lie that you can’t.

• I’m too tired today. No, you’re still in the fight. Adjust, but don’t quit.
• This is getting worse, I’m falling behind. No, you’re adapting and overcoming. Progress isn’t always linear
• I’m not who I used to be. Maybe not, but you’re still here. And that means you have the chance to build something even stronger.

Every time you let negative self-talk dictate your actions, you reinforce weakness You let doubt take control. And once doubt has a foothold, it spreads like a virus. I treat my mind like I treat my body—it’s something I have to train, discipline, and strengthen every single day. This includes

1. Catching the negativity in the act

The first step is awareness. You can’t fight an enemy you don’t see. I’ve trained myself to recognize negative thoughts as they happen. The moment I catch one, I don’t just let it slide, I counter it

• I’m too tired to train today. Maybe I am, but I can still move. Even a little is better than nothing.
• This is too hard. Good, that means it’s making me stronger.
• Speaking to myself like a coach, not a critic

If I had a coach who constantly told me I was weak, incapable, or doomed to fail, I’d fire him on the spot. So why would I tolerate that kind of voice in my own head? Instead, I replace that voice with one that pushes me forward

• You’ve handled worse.
• Keep moving. One step at a time.
• You’re not done yet.
• Embracing controlled discomfort

I put myself in situations where my mind wants to quit—whether it’s a tough workout, an ice bath, or pushing through fatigue—and I don’t quit. Every time I endure discomfort and keep going, I prove to myself that I’m stronger than my doubts.

• Cutting out weak influences

Negative self-talk doesn’t just come from inside. It’s influenced by what we consume, who we spend time with, and the environments we allow ourselves to be in.

• I don’t surround myself with people who complain about everything and make excuses.
• I don’t scroll through endless negativity online.
• I feed my mind with things that make me stronger—books, challenges, training, and people who push me to be better.

MS itself already presents enough challenges—I refuse to make it harder by being my own worst enemy. Cutting out weakness isn’t just about lifting weights or pushing through fatigue. It starts with how you speak to yourself when no one else is watching. I don’t tolerate excuses from my body, and I won’t tolerate them from my mind either. Because at the end of the day, there’s only one voice that matters—the one inside my head. And I’ve decided that mine is going to sound like a fighter, not a victim. That’s the true mentality. That’s the fight. And it starts with the words you tell yourself every single day.

Surrounding Myself with the Right People. Strength in Brotherhood.

No one fights alone, the lone wolves won’t last, even the toughest fighters have someone in their corners. I learned this the hard way. When I was first diagnosed with MS, my instinct was to tough it out solo. I thought if I just pushed harder, trained harder, and kept my struggles to myself, I could outwork the disease. But MS doesn’t play fair, and it sure as hell doesn’t care about ego. The truth? You can be as mentally tough as you want, but if you surround yourself with the wrong people—or worse, isolate yourself completely—you’re making the fight 10 times harder than it needs to be. Strength isn’t just about what you can do alone. It’s about the people in your corner, the ones who push you forward when your body and mind want to give up. You have to cut out people who drain you. Just like negative self-talk, negative people will poison your mindset. There are two types of people in life.

1. The ones who fuel your fire—the ones who push you, challenge you, and remind you that you’re still the fighter.
2. The ones who put out your fire—the ones who bring nothing but doubt, excuses, and negativity into your life.

MS is tough enough thus I don’t have time for people who…Complain all the time but never take action…Make excuses for why things can’t be done…Pity me instead of pushing me…Drain my energy instead of adding to it. If someone isn’t helping me grow, they’re holding me back and I refuse to carry dead weight. You have to build a tribe of warriors because strength is contagious. You become like the people you surround yourself with, so I personally choose to be around warriors—people who refuse to quit, who fight for what matters, who show up every damn day ready to work

• Gym bros—The gym isn’t just about lifting weights—it’s about accountability. The right gym bros won’t let you slack, won’t let you make excuses, and won’t let you get comfortable. They push me past my limits, and in return, I push them past theirs.
• Family—Being a daddy with MS means I have even more reason to fight. My daughter don’t need to see me as a victim, she needs to see me as an example. She needs to see a man who doesn’t back down, no matter how hard things get.
• My inner circle—there are the people who don’t just say they support me—they show it. They check in. They challenge me. They remind me of my strength when I forget about it.

If you don’t have people like this in your life, it’s time to start finding them. The right people will change everything. That’s the power of brotherhood…or sisterhood. Boxing taught me something important—even though you’re the only one in the ring, you’re never fighting alone. There’s always a team behind you—a coach in your corner, training partners who prepared you, people cheering for you to win. Life with MS is similar. Surround yourself with people who make you better. Who remind you that you’re still in the fight. Who refuse to let you quit, even on your worst days because when you have that kind of support, MS doesn’t stand a chance. 

As Muhammad Ali said: “Champions aren’t made in the gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them—a desire, a dream, a vision.” For me, this means to find people who share that vision. Build your team. And keep fighting.