By Sasha A. Larkin
I’ve spent more than 25 years in law enforcement. I’ve been shot at, spit on, cussed out and called things I can’t repeat in this magazine. I was the incident commander at the Route 91 lot during the Harvest Festival mass shooting at Mandalay Bay — the deadliest mass shooting by an individual in modern American history. I’ve held the hands of dying strangers and looked into the eyes of people who’ve done unspeakable things. I retired as assistant sheriff from the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department, and I’m currently the director of intelligence for the 2026 FIFA World Cup.
I’ve also been practicing and teaching yoga for more than 28 years.
Go ahead and let that sit for a second.
I know what some of you are thinking. Yoga? Really?
I get it. Believe me, I’ve heard every joke. But before you write this off, hear me out. Because what I’m about to say has nothing to do with stretching on a mat and everything to do with why some of us make it out of this career intact — and some of us don’t.
We talk about resilience in law enforcement like it’s some big, complicated program. Peer support teams. Critical incident debriefs. Annual wellness checks. Those things matter — I’m not dismissing any of them. But here’s what I’ve learned the hard way through decades of doing this job and raising three kids as a single mother on the other side of retirement: resilience isn’t only built in the big moments. It’s built in the small ones. The ones so simple we overlook them completely.
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Find your breath. That’s it
Everybody in this profession talks about sleep. And they should. Sleep is foundational. But let me ask you something: When was the last time you took 60 seconds — not 60 minutes, 60 seconds — to just breathe? Not the shallow, chest-high breathing you do on a traffic stop or while writing a report at 0300. I mean actually noticing your breath. Feeling your lungs expand. Feeling the exhale leave your body.
In yoga, we call this pranayama — the practice of conscious breathing. But forget the Sanskrit. Here’s what I know from standing on both sides of this line — the tactical side and the yoga side: your nervous system doesn’t know the difference between a real threat and a remembered one.
When you’ve been carrying years of hypervigilance, your body stays in fight-or-flight mode long after the shift ends. Conscious breathing is one of the fastest, most effective ways to pull yourself out of that state. It tells your nervous system: Stand down. You’re safe right now.
You don’t need a yoga mat. You don’t need an app. You need two minutes in your cruiser before you get out. Two minutes at your desk before the next briefing. Two minutes in your driveway before you walk in the door to your family. Just notice your breath.
And if you want something tactical, something with structure, try what special forces teams use — box breathing. Inhale for a count of four. Hold for a count of four. Exhale for a count of four. Pause for a count of four. That’s one box. Do four of them. It takes about a minute, and it will drop your heart rate and sharpen your focus.
If you’re trying to actively calm your nervous system — after a high-stress call, before a difficult conversation or when you can’t sleep — double the exhale. Inhale for a count of four. Exhale for a count of eight. The long exhale is what signals your body to stand down.
It’s not soft. It’s strategic. Operators in special forces units do this. Snipers do this. If it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for you.
| WATCH: Gordon Graham on tactical breathing for first responders
Eat food with life in it
I’m not going to lecture you about your diet. I’ve worked graveyards. I know what’s available at 2 in the morning I know what it’s like to grab whatever you can between calls. I lived that life for years.
But here’s a principle I want you to sit with: When you eat food with life, it gives you life. Fresh fruits, vegetables and nuts — food with color, nutrients and minimal processing. And right alongside that: quality meat, chicken, fish and eggs. This isn’t about being a health nut or following some trendy protocol. It’s about understanding that your body is the only vehicle you’ve got for this career, for your family and for everything that matters to you. What you put into it directly affects how you show up.
Here’s the quiet truth that doesn’t get talked about enough: many health experts point to chronic inflammation as a contributor to heart disease, diabetes, autoimmune issues and cognitive decline. And one of the biggest drivers of inflammation in modern diets is ultra-processed food — the shelf-stable, chemical-laden stuff our bodies weren’t designed to live on every day.
I’ve followed every diet and every fad. Keto, paleo, low-fat, intermittent fasting — you name it, I’ve tried it. What I keep coming back to is this: simpler is usually better. Foods that look like food. Fruits and vegetables. Lean meats. Eggs. Fish. Less processed junk. More real ingredients.
A good rule of thumb: if something has a long list of ingredients you can’t pronounce, it’s worth asking whether your body really needs it. Butter, olive oil, ghee and other traditional fats have been part of human diets for generations. What I’ve personally tried to reduce are the heavily processed oils and artificial foods that leave me feeling sluggish and inflamed.
I’m not lecturing you. I’m offering suggestions that may help reduce inflammation and improve how you feel physically and mentally over the long haul.
When I was coming up, I ate like every other cop: fast, cheap and convenient. And I felt like it — sluggish, inflamed, running on caffeine and adrenaline. When I started paying attention to what I was actually fueling my body with, things shifted. Not overnight. But steadily. More energy. Clearer thinking. Less of the fog that accumulates after years of grinding.
I’m not saying throw out everything in your fridge. I’m saying this: next shift, throw an apple in your bag. Bring a hard-boiled egg. Grab a handful of almonds. Swap out one processed meal for something more natural. See how you feel. Your body will tell you the truth if you give it a chance.
| RELATED: The tactical diet: How to fuel your body and brain
Put the weight down
This one’s harder. And I say that as someone who is still learning it.
In this profession, we carry things. Not just the gear on our belts, but the things people have done to us and the things we’ve witnessed. The partner who didn’t have your back. The supervisor who buried you. The call that replays at 0200 when the house is quiet. The resentment toward a system that sometimes feels set up for you to fail. We carry judgment — of others and of ourselves. We carry grudges. We carry guilt.
And all of it is heavy.
I’m not going to sit here and tell you forgiveness is easy. It’s not. Some things that have happened to you may never deserve forgiveness. But there’s a difference between forgiving someone and releasing what you carry. Forgiveness is about them. Releasing is about you.
Think about it like this: If you picked up a 45-pound plate at the gym and someone told you to hold it with your arms extended for the rest of the day, you’d eventually break. Not because you’re weak — because the weight was never meant to be held that long. That resentment you’re carrying? That bitterness? That thing somebody said to you six years ago that still makes your jaw clench? That’s the plate. And you’re allowed to set it down.
Releasing isn’t weakness. It’s a tactical decision. You are choosing to reclaim the energy resentment has been draining from you and redirect it toward something that actually matters — your health, your family and your future.
And maybe that’s the transition many of us struggle with most in this profession. We learn how to survive. We learn how to push through. But very few of us ever learn how to care for ourselves once the adrenaline fades and the armor comes off.
The hardest call you’ll ever make
I saved this one for last because it’s the one that’s going to make some of you uncomfortable. And that’s exactly why it needs to be said.
Self-love.
I know. Stay with me.
We are trained to sacrifice. To put the mission first. To push through pain, fatigue and fear without complaint. Those are good instincts — they keep people alive. But somewhere along the way, many of us started believing taking care of ourselves was selfish. That paying attention to our own needs was a sign of weakness. That being hard on ourselves was a virtue.
It’s not.
After Route 91, after seeing what I saw and carrying what I carried, I had to learn this the hard way. After retiring from a career that defined me for more than two decades. After finding myself as a single mother of three, trying to figure out who Sasha is when she’s not wearing the badge. I had to relearn how to be kind to myself. I had to relearn that I am allowed to rest. That I am allowed to not have all the answers. That I am worthy of the same compassion I gave every victim, every community member and every officer I ever served alongside.
Self-love isn’t bubble baths and affirmations — although if that works for you, have at it. Self-love is looking in the mirror and acknowledging that the person staring back has been through hell and is still standing. It’s deciding you deserve to eat well, sleep well, breathe well and live without carrying the weight of every wrong that’s ever been done to you. It’s giving yourself permission to not be okay — and then doing something about it.
In yoga, there’s a concept that everything begins with awareness. You can’t fix what you won’t face. You can’t heal what you refuse to feel. And you sure as hell can’t build resilience on a foundation of self-neglect.
The bottom line
I’m not asking you to roll out a yoga mat in the briefing room. I’m not asking you to meditate on a call. I’m asking you to consider that the most powerful tools for surviving this career might be the simplest ones — and the ones we’ve been ignoring.
Breathe. Eat something that was alive recently. Release what’s weighing you down. And find the courage to be good to yourself.
These aren’t revolutionary ideas. They’re ancient ones. They’ve kept human beings resilient for thousands of years, long before we had peer support teams and wellness apps. And they work. Not because I read about them in a book, but because I’ve lived them — on the street, in the command post, on the worst night of my professional life and in the quiet moments at home when it’s just me, three kids and the weight of everything I’ve seen.
You deserve to live longer. You deserve to be more present with the people who love you. You deserve some joy in this life — not just after retirement, but right now, in the middle of the fight.
Start small. Start today. And don’t let anyone tell you that taking care of yourself is anything less than the bravest thing you can do.
About the author
Sasha Larkin retired as Assistant Sheriff from the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department in May 2024 after a 25-year career spanning patrol, community engagement, counterterrorism and homeland security. She made history as Nevada’s first female Assistant Sheriff and led incident command during some of the most significant events in Las Vegas’s history, including the Route 91 Harvest Festival mass shooting. Sasha currently serves as Director of Intelligence and C4 Operations for the 2026 FIFA World Cup and has been a dedicated yoga practitioner and teacher for over 28 years. She is a single mother of three and a passionate advocate for officer wellness and resilience. Learn more at www.sasha-larkin.com.
