Five nights into CPAP therapy and I already feel like I’m learning something important about myself.

For context, my sleep study showed severe obstructive sleep apnoea with an AHI of 55.9.
That means, on average, my breathing was disturbed nearly 56 times per hour while sleeping.

Looking back, it explains a lot.

For the last few years I’ve struggled with exhaustion, pain, brain fog, anxiety, injuries, poor recovery, and an increasing inability to get consistent with training again. I kept assuming the issue was motivation, grief, discipline, or simply “not being who I used to be anymore”.

The reality may be more complicated than that.

The First Few Nights

The first thing I’ll say is this:

CPAP is not glamorous.

You strap a mask to your face, connect yourself to a machine, and try to sleep while air is pushed into your airway all night. The bridge of my nose is sore. My beard ends up damp in the morning, and part of me thinks that if this keeps happening I’m going to end up with a rash and a permanently sore face. Some nights I wake up thinking: just push through this — make it work.

But at the same time, something is happening.

Even within five nights:

• My sleep score has improved dramatically
• My average overnight HRV has increased
• My resting heart rate is low and stable
• My sleep stages are becoming more structured
• My Garmin is showing stronger overnight recovery

One night this week my average overnight HRV hit 93 ms — above my normal range — while my Body Battery fully recharged overnight.

That honestly surprised me.

What the Numbers Say

Untreated:

• AHI: 55.9 (severe sleep apnoea)

After five nights of CPAP:

• AHI averaging roughly 12 events/hour

That’s still not ideal, but it’s already roughly a 75–80% reduction in breathing disturbances.

More importantly, my body seems to be responding positively even before the therapy is fully optimised.

The biggest surprise so far is not energy.

It’s recovery.

The Strange Emotional Side

One thing nobody really explains is how emotional this can feel.

When your body has spent years in survival mode — poor sleep, stress, grief, adrenaline, pushing through — finally getting periods of genuine restorative sleep feels strange.

I’ve found myself tearful some mornings.

Not because the machine is upsetting, but I think because my nervous system feels like it’s finally starting to exhale. Maybe my grief can be felt.

The Athlete in Me

Before life became what it became, I was the guy who:

• ran marathons and ultras
• completed a 230km Jungle Ultra in the Amazon
• trained obsessively
• recovered well
• could keep pushing physically and mentally

Over the last few years I’ve felt like I lost access to that person.

I’m beginning to wonder if part of the problem wasn’t just grief and trauma, but years of severe untreated sleep apnoea sitting underneath everything.

That doesn’t erase the grief.
It doesn’t magically fix life.
But it does raise an interesting possibility:

What if my body has been trying to survive while never truly resting?

Early Lessons

Five days in, this is what I’ve learned:

• Consistency matters more than perfection
• Comfort matters more than chasing perfect numbers
• Recovery may happen gradually, not overnight
• Good sleep is not laziness — it’s physiology
• My body might not be as broken as I feared

I’m still tired.
I still hurt.
I still miss Haze every single day.

But for the first time in a long time, I feel like my body might finally be getting a chance to recover instead of simply endure.

And honestly, that feels hopeful.