I woke up this morning with that familiar ache in my lats, the exact spot I trained yesterday. The kind of soreness that makes rolling out of bed feel like a small victory lap. It wasn’t injury pain, sharp or alarming. It was lactic acid talking back to me, reminding me that I had pushed those muscles hard enough to make them adapt.
And honestly, I don’t mind it one bit. Because this kind of pain isn’t punishment. It’s proof. Proof that I targeted the right muscles. Proof that my body is responding to the effort. Proof that I showed up for myself.
After recently signing back up at my commercial gym, I’m now on day three of a renewed commitment. Walking back into that space felt like stepping into a second home, one where the clang of weights, the rhythm of treadmills, and even the sting of lactic acid remind me why I belong there.
But here’s the thing: as a transgender woman, my relationship with fitness and with soreness looks different than it might for others. Some trans women crave softness and lean lines, while others embrace a muscular, athletic build. Neither is more or less valid. What matters isn’t what others think your body should look like; it’s what feels right for you.
Muscles don’t define femininity or erase it. Soreness isn’t gendered. It’s simply part of the process.
A Sequel to Lactic Acid
If you’ve been following along, you might remember my article from late last year: Lactic Acid, Fitness, and HRT: A Transgender Guide to Recovery. That piece broke down the science behind lactic acid, DOMS (delayed onset muscle soreness), and how hormone replacement therapy (HRT) shifts recovery timelines.
This new piece isn’t just a retelling. It’s the lived example. Yesterday’s back workout, and this morning’s soreness, are the bridge between science and experience. This is the reminder that knowledge isn’t just academic; it shows up in your body the next day.
The Science of “Good Pain”
Not all pain is good pain. Sharp, stabbing, or lingering pain is a warning. But DOMS, the soreness from lactic acid buildup and tiny muscle fiber tears, is different. It’s temporary and natural and signals that your body is repairing and rebuilding.
- What’s happening? Resistance training creates microtears in your muscle fibers. Your body responds with inflammation, repair, and adaptation.
- Why does it hurt? Lactic acid and other byproducts of metabolism irritate nerves temporarily, creating soreness.
- Why is it “good”? That discomfort is the gateway to growth. As fibers heal, they become stronger and more efficient.
For trans people on HRT, DOMS can feel a little different. Estrogen tends to shift muscle mass away from bulk, while testosterone promotes faster hypertrophy. But soreness shows up regardless. It’s a universal language of progress.
Transition Goals vs. Gym Goals
This is where individuality matters. Transition and fitness are deeply personal, and they don’t always align with cultural stereotypes.
Some trans women want to soften their physiques and minimize bulk. Others embrace their muscles as affirming, powerful, and beautiful. Many fall somewhere in between.
The same is true across the community. Trans men, nonbinary folks, and gender-diverse athletes all bring different goals to the gym. And that’s the point: there’s no one right way to combine transition and training.
Muscles don’t “cancel” femininity. A lack of muscles doesn’t make anyone less valid. The soreness you feel is a sign of effort, not identity.
When Soreness Meets Dysphoria
Of course, muscle soreness isn’t always affirming. For some, it highlights areas of the body that feel complicated. A sore chest might clash with dysphoria if you’re binding. Sore quads might draw attention to hips you’d rather not notice.
Instead of seeing soreness as the enemy, try reframing it as a signal. Ask yourself:
- Does this soreness affirm the goals I have for myself?
- Do I need to shift how I train to feel more aligned with my transition?
- What’s one small adjustment I can make to feel more joy in this process?
That kind of self-reflection can transform soreness from a dysphoria trigger into a tool for growth, both physical and emotional.
Recovery Tips for Trans Athletes
From my own training and the science we explored in the lactic acid article, here’s a quick reminder list for recovery:
- Hydration matters. Especially on estrogen, cooling and water balance shift. Stay ahead of fatigue.
- Protein is key. Whether your goal is bulk or softness, your muscles still need building blocks.
- Active recovery works. Light movement, stretching, and mobility drills flush soreness faster than rest alone.
- Sleep heals. Your body does its best repair work while you’re unconscious. Prioritize rest.
- Patience pays off. HRT can lengthen recovery timelines. Respect your body’s pace.
Community Connection
What strikes me when I talk with other trans gym-goers is how universal DOMS feels, even if our goals look different.
- “It hurts, but I know I earned it.”
- “Soreness means tomorrow I’ll be stronger.”
- “This pain feels like progress.”
It doesn’t matter if someone is chasing curves, bulk, endurance, or balance. Soreness connects us. It’s the reminder that we’re showing up, making choices, and building bodies on our own terms.
The Bigger Picture
In 2025, our bodies are still politicized in ways they shouldn’t be. Commentators and lawmakers keep trying to dictate what trans bodies should or shouldn’t look like. But the truth is simple: every drop of sweat, every sore lat or quad, is a declaration of autonomy.
Soreness is resistance. It’s proof that we’re living on our own terms.
The Bottom Line
So yes, I woke up sore this morning. My lats are on fire, and I love it. It’s not a setback. It’s a reminder that I trained the exact muscles I meant to. That I’m moving forward. That this body, in transition and in training, is mine.
Whether you’re softening, bulking, balancing, or just moving for joy, don’t fear the “good pain.” Embrace it. Because in both fitness and transition, discomfort is often the first sign that growth is on its way.
