When Exercise Begins in Bed

We hear it all the time: movement is good for us.

Doctors recommend it. Physical therapists encourage it. Research continues to highlight the benefits of exercise for people living with myasthenia gravis (MG).

But what happens when exercise feels completely out of reach?

For many of us living with MG, the idea of starting an exercise program can feel overwhelming. If you’re anything like me, there may have been times when simply standing up felt like a workout. Add in other chronic illnesses, pain, balance issues, or mobility challenges, and exercise can seem like something reserved for other people—not us.

At one point, I became almost completely wheelchair-bound. I had already lost much of my ability to walk, and after spending significant portions of the last several years on bedrest, the thought of exercising felt unrealistic. How could I possibly focus on exercise when even basic movement was difficult?

Then I attended an MG presentation where I heard something that stopped me in my tracks: even less than 10 minutes of movement can have value.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure I believed it.

Ten minutes didn’t seem like enough to make a difference. Gentle movement didn’t seem powerful enough to create meaningful change. Yet that simple idea planted a seed.

What if I started small?
Not with a workout.
Not with a gym membership.
Not with a goal of walking a mile.
Just movement.

For some people, that may mean taking a few extra steps around the house. For others, it may be a seated Tai Chi class, stretching in bed, or participating in an adaptive yoga program. The goal isn’t intensity. The goal is simply to begin.

It began in bed

In fact, my exercise journey didn’t begin standing up. It began in bed.

After years of disease progression, surgeries, hospitalizations, and extended periods of bedrest, movement often looked very different than most people imagine. Sometimes it was simply stretching my arms. Sometimes it was gentle movements guided by adaptive yoga. Sometimes it was focusing on my breath and reconnecting with muscles that hadn’t moved much in weeks.

For me, one of the first things I started doing outside of bed was helping propel my wheelchair while using my SmartDrive power assist. It may not sound like much. After all, the motor was doing much of the work. But I began gently pushing with my arms as the chair moved forward.

Little by little, I kept going

Three months later, I was surprised by what those small efforts had accomplished. Today, I can push farther than I have in more than four years.

The progress didn’t come from intense workouts. It came from consistency. It came from meeting my body where it was and gently asking it to do a little more when it was ready.

One of the greatest gifts on my movement journey has been adaptive yoga.

In fact, I fell so deeply in love with adaptive yoga that I eventually became a certified yoga instructor. Even more meaningful, I completed my training under the guidance of another MG warrior who understood firsthand the challenges we face.

Adaptive yoga taught me that movement doesn’t have to look a certain way to be valuable.
Some days, movement happens in a chair.
Some days, it happens in bed.
Some days, it involves breathing deeply and gently stretching muscles that have been holding tension for far too long.

By combining breathwork with slow, intentional movement, I learned how to adapt poses to meet my body’s needs, including challenges related to balance, vertigo, fatigue, and pain. This past weekend, while attending an MG health fair, the topic of gentle movement came up several times. As I listened, I found myself reflecting on my own journey.

What I learned is that movement is not a straight line.

There were times when I was working to increase my strength and endurance, only to face another hospitalization, surgery, or setback that required me to begin again. During some seasons, my goal was to push farther. During others, my goal was simply to reconnect with my body while lying in bed—to gently move a limb, stretch a muscle, or remind my body how movement felt.

Both mattered. Both were victories.

Looking back, I realize that every stage of that journey had value. The gentle movements I practiced in bed became the foundation for the strength I continue to build today. A year ago, much of my movement practice happened entirely in bed. Today, I can propel my wheelchair down an entire block.

The journey didn’t begin with a major fitness goal

It began with one small movement. Then another. And another.

Of course, any exercise program should be discussed with your healthcare team to ensure it is safe and appropriate for your individual situation. But if you’re feeling overwhelmed by the idea of exercise, perhaps the answer isn’t to think bigger.

Perhaps the answer is to think smaller Start with what you can do today.
One stretch.
One breath.
One lap around the living room.
One minute of movement.
Those small moments matter more than we often realize.

Over time, they can help build strength, improve endurance, support balance, and even reduce pain by releasing tension held within the body. Most importantly, they remind us that movement is not about perfection. It’s about possibility.

And sometimes the smallest movements become the beginning of the most meaningful journeys.
What was the first step—or first movement—that helped you begin your exercise journey with MG?