My Struggles With Injury

I'm writing this for anyone dealing with a sports injury right now. During my layoff, I've found it genuinely helpful to hear other athletes talk about their own injuries, and I wanted to add my experience to that pile. If you're reading this while injured: you're not alone.

Six months ago, I felt a small pain in my wrist while hitting a squash ball up and down the wall during a solo practice. I was playing my absolute best squash at this time. That small pain set off a cascade of events that has kept me from almost any form of exercise since, left me in pain every day, and has affected my ability to work.

A warning: there's no resolution to this story yet. If you're looking for a fairy tale ending to give you hope, this isn't it. I'm healing, but I'm not fully recovered. I hope to update this post in a few months with good news. But for now, this is written by somebody still injured, in pain every day, and still cut off from their favourite sport.

My injury: what happened

My injuries occurred in both wrists and both ankles.

The first injury and initial pain occurred in my right wrist (my dominant hand) at the start of April during a solo practice. I thought nothing of it. The session was long, the conditions were cold, which meant I had to hit the ball harder, and I wasn't feeling very good that day, so I was obsessively hitting the same shot over and over for nearly two hours straight without really taking a break. Towards the end, I started getting some pain in my wrist and eventually shut the session down.

I'd had a few pains there before and thought absolutely nothing of it. That night I woke up and my whole forearm was burning. However, then the next day it was completely fine. The next time I hit the ball, the wrist pain started again. I played a match or two and had some sharper pains, but it was all below a 3 out of 10, so I wasn't particularly concerned.

I played through a month of mild wrist pain before I started to realize it was getting worse.

During this time I thought, "Ok, I can't play squash as much due to the wrist pain, so I'll try and improve my lower body ability." I got into the gym, started doing some explosive work, and in the first session I felt a sharp pain in my ankle. Again, I thought nothing of it and took a few days off.

Around this same period, I'd been spinning on a spin bike to up my cardio, and I'd done a few FTP tests, which are maximal 20-minute bike efforts. About a week after the initial ankle pain in the gym, I did one of these max tests, completed it, got off the bike, and both of my Achilles areas stiffened up. I took about 10 days off, then returned to squash for a drills session, during which I hurt my ankle again.

Over the following weeks, I realized I'd injured something in my lower limbs, particularly the left, but both sides were affected. 

By May, my right wrist and ankles were giving me problems, so I went to see a physio. I was diagnosed with tenosynovitis in my right wrist: inflammation of the sheath the thumb tendons pass through. It's a friction injury. I was also diagnosed with posterior tibial tendinopathy in my ankles.

For my wrist, I had to wear a brace with a thumb splint, so my whole right hand and forearm were immobilized for three weeks. I started rehabbing my ankles as advised with calf raises, etc., but within a couple of weeks I realized that they were not tolerating load well at all. Eventually, I could no longer jump, run, or load them with any meaningful weight.

When the three weeks in the brace were up, I was technically cleared to return to hitting, but I knew immediately things were worse. Coming out of the brace, the wrist was far more sensitive. It had gotten stiff, and everything I touched started to hurt. Over the next two months, my right wrist just got significantly more painful. Basically every week it got worse. I couldn't train at all. I couldn't use my right hand for anything really.

During this time, I had to switch all of my work to my left hand. I run a supplement company called Thrive Protein (which you probably know, given where you're reading this). I handle all of the website, graphics, artwork, bag production, every single visual thing for the company, which means three to five hours a day of design work in front of a computer. I shifted that entire load to my left hand, and within a month I'd picked up the same condition, tenosynovitis, in my left wrist. I couldn't believe it. I was so upset. So since early June, I've had tenosynovitis in both wrists.

And this goes beyond sport and work. With both hands affected, even simple everyday tasks like playing with my kids, picking things up, opening doors and jars, cooking, and brushing my teeth became difficult. All of these things would cause pain and potentially a setback.

After 8 weeks, I still couldn't run, swim, bike, lift weights, or do any real form of exercise. I kept trying different things in hopes that I could find some way to train. I turned to swimming, which I loved, and after three weeks realized it was actually hurting my wrist, so I had to stop. Then I tried other forms of activity, and all of them hurt me. Eventually I had to just realize: this isn't happening. That led to the decision to stop training altogether (breaking a decade-long habit) and focus only on very low-load rehab for my wrist and ankle. The wrist continued to go through major flare-ups, many of them actually provoked by physio sessions, and I eventually had to stop letting anyone touch my arm at all, because it was absolutely killing me. 

Running underneath all of this: for about the past 18 months, I'd been fairly chronically sleep-deprived due to our second child, who is now 20 months old and starting to sleep better, thankfully. I suspect this played a significant role in my injuries and subsequent recovery. I was trying to build a business, raise a family, and play competitive sport, all while getting very little sleep. I think I was asking too much of my body without giving it enough time to recover. 

During this period where I couldn't exercise, I really wanted to sink myself into my work. However, because both wrists were injured, every workday meant significant pain through my left arm just using a mouse. The shift to working with my left hand also started causing left trapezius pain, which then led to daily neck pain. And with no weight training, my upper and mid back have deconditioned enough that just sitting at a screen became extremely uncomfortable.

Work became triggering at times in a different way as well. For my job, I have to create and market sports nutrition supplements day after day, all while injured and unable to do any sport myself. Every product photo, every ad, every piece of packaging I design is about performance, training, and pushing your body, all things I haven't been able to do. It's like a strange irony. I spend all day marketing performance, and I can't perform.

The scary part

At around three months post-injury, the wrist was not resolving. The left wrist had presented itself. Both ankles were still giving me pain. The physio then started to mention the potential of something systemic happening. Around this time, the pain in my wrists also started spreading from one side of the wrist to the other, into areas that had never hurt before. 

The physio referred me to the doctors for blood work and imaging.

This sent me into a mad spiral. Suddenly, everywhere on my body was hurting, and all I could think about was: "Oh my God, have I got some sort of autoimmune disorder, like rheumatoid arthritis, which could effectively end my athletic career altogether and cause a host of other issues for the rest of my life?"

It seemed uncanny to me that I had four simultaneous injury sites in areas I had never injured before. It's not a normal pattern to injure both wrists and both ankles at the same time, so all I could think about was a sinister outcome. Every day I thought, "Is my body breaking down from the inside out?"

It took weeks to get the blood work in, and the whole time I was obsessively researching autoimmune conditions. I was battling this narrative in my head that something was wrong with me and that I would never play again. It got pretty dark at this time.

A few weeks later, I got the blood work. The results came back 100% clean. I was so relieved. This was a huge weight off, and suddenly I felt somewhat better physically from the news as well. The catastrophic thinking was mostly over, and now I just had to focus on trying to rehab two tough, stubborn injuries.

At the time of writing, September 2026, I've regained the ability to run and have built up to one 40-minute run per week. I can train my lower body again in the gym, and I've regained the ability to jump, cut, and change direction. Last week, for the first time, I picked up a racket and swung it through the air with no ball. This was a huge milestone. I also recently had an ultrasound on my right wrist, which showed no signs of active tenosynovitis, despite the ongoing pain and sensitivity. The lingering sensitivity may be related to some nerve involvement, which needs to settle over time.

There's definitely light at the end of the tunnel, but I'm by no means close to match play, and it's been almost six months since the injuries occurred. If things keep trending in the right direction, I hope to be playing matches again within three to four months (fingers crossed), which would make the total injury layoff around 10 months.

Why me?

Something I've struggled with a lot during this time is the unfairness of it. I have a degree in sports science, and I try to do everything meticulously. I train properly, I do my mobility work, my stability work, all of the things that many people skip entirely. And yet I've been plagued with injury over the last few years.

Having a background in sports science almost makes it worse, because I feel like I should know how to prevent these things from happening. When I get injured despite doing everything I think I should be doing, I can't help but feel like I've failed somehow. I found this deeply unfair. I still do, some days. But now that some time has passed, I don't feel this way nearly as much, and ultimately, it's just the reality of being an athlete.

With some perspective, I've been extremely lucky in my life. I've had a lot of amazing things happen over the past few years, and a few injuries are really not the end of the world.

Rehab Isn't Linear

Rehab itself has felt like snakes and ladders at times – completely non-linear, particularly during months 1 through 4. I would have a good week or two, then up the weight or volume a little bit, only to get set back, sometimes further than where I began. It would upset me so much each time. I'd get so mad at myself for pushing it too hard or making impulsive training decisions.

A lot of the set backs occurred when I was doing sessions while tired, so I had to make a rule for myself: only do rehab sessions when I feel moderate to good.

There was also a massive disconnect between how the injury felt and how much load it could tolerate. It didn't really hurt very much, but its tolerance to load was really bad. I had to learn where that tolerance actually was and try to undershoot it.

A few things that have helped me

If you're recovering from injury yourself, I would highly recommend the book "Rebound" for learning to cope with the emotions surrounding your injury. It's also full of athletes' anecdotal stories, comeback stories, and their lessons surrounding injury. The authors also run an amazing podcast called The Injured Athletes Club podcast, which has professional athletes' experiences with injury. It really helps put things into perspective and to hear other people's stories.

Another big thing that's helped me is getting away from the narratives people push, like needing to exercise a certain number of times per week, regardless of how you're feeling. I used to get these narratives in my head telling me I should do this and I should do that, influenced by stupid people on YouTube saying things like "being tired is not an excuse not to train."

Granted, I'm the one who picked up on these narratives and clung onto them. I've at times perceived not training as weakness, and being tired as weakness. Ultimately, this mentality has probably helped make me a good athlete over the years, giving me the discipline to train consistently and push myself. But when you're injured, it's a double-edged sword, because you end up pushing when you really shouldn't be.

When you're an adult with responsibilities, being tired is 100% an excuse not to train. It's during these times that injury strikes. This whole "no excuses, no compromises" bullshit is exactly what can lead to injury and prolonged layoffs.

I've had to learn to step back and listen to my body rather than feeling like I need to stick to a certain training schedule. My physio initially recommended loading every other day, but I found that even this was too much for me. I kept experiencing setbacks, so I had to step back much further and find an approach my body could tolerate. A physiotherapist can provide valuable guidance, but I'm the one experiencing the symptoms day to day, and I've learned that I need to trust my instincts and adjust accordingly. Upon my return to sport, I'll be listening to these cues far more than I used to.

Another thing that's helped me is taking ownership of my rehabilitation and doing my own research rather than relying entirely on other people. I wanted to understand exactly what was going on with my injuries and what I could do to help myself recover. For me, this led me to research the optimal rehab exercises myself, add collagen peptides 30 minutes before each loading session (which actually led me to develop our own collagen peptides), and try red light therapy to help with tendon pain, based on some research studies that showed promising results. I continued trying to find the best ways to rehab these injuries and get myself back to sport. I can't say with certainty how much any individual intervention contributed to my recovery, but researching the options and taking an active role in my rehabilitation helped me feel more in control.

Another thing I found helpful is finding other athletes who have had the exact same injury. For me, the world number one tennis player, Carlos Alcaraz, actually got the same injury as me during the same month. He returned within four months. I'm still out, but it was still nice to know that a professional athlete could be sidelined that long by the same injury. 

Finally, I've actually found that AI has been one of the best rehab guides for me during this time (and, somewhat surprisingly, a source of emotional support too). People don't always say what you want to hear, and repeatedly going to them with your woes, at least in my experience, doesn't always result in what you're looking for. And that's 100% not their fault. People can't predict exactly what you want to hear, and it's not always fair to expect them to listen to your injury problems 24/7. I've found using Claude extremely helpful for keeping my head in the right place. I could go to it at 11:00 at night and start ranting about how I'm never going to get better and how everything hurts. It would help me put things into perspective, challenge some of my catastrophic thinking, and remind me that a difficult day didn't necessarily mean my recovery was going backwards. For me, that's been extremely helpful on some of my darker days.

My biggest learning and takeaway from all this so far

I lost the thing I loved, and I'm still okay.

That's not how I felt during the first two or three months, and it's not how I feel every day now. But as more time has passed without me playing, I've found contentment without sport and exercise.

I've trained four to six times a week for over ten years without ever taking more than a week or two off. In the last six months, I've averaged one or two sessions a week, some of that just wrist movements, ankle movements, and walking. Exercise has always been a huge anchor of stability in my life, so being unable to do anything meant coping with the world without any outlet. Initially, this was extremely difficult for me. Everything I did, all my habits, completely changed. I gained weight, I lost all my fitness, and here I sit, completely deconditioned. But honestly, it's been so long now that I don't mind. And I know I will get it all back eventually. 

If you have a strong athletic identity, having it taken away can make you feel like you don't have anything left. For me, once the habit was broken, that feeling started to fade. It gets easier the longer you're off.

Something I try to remind myself is that there are positives from not being involved in your sport, if you can find them and if you can channel your energy into something else. For me, not playing squash has given me back around fifteen hours a week, which went to spending more time with my wife and kids, and freed up mental energy for other things (albeit a lot of that mental energy was used obsessing about my body and if or when I'll ever be able to play again).

A lot of things can be taken away from you, and you can still be okay. I think, inevitably, we have to be okay. It's too exhausting to just wallow in despair month after month. I think we naturally find a level of contentment eventually. 

Returning to squash

During the first few months, I wanted nothing more than to be playing again. But my desire to return to sport has actually almost swung the other way at this point. Getting back into it now seems like a huge mountain to climb, a huge amount of work. Some days I almost wonder: am I better off not playing?

I love squash, but I also know how much time and energy it takes from me. The training, the travelling, the commitment, and now the injuries. I've had six months away from it, and while I desperately wanted to get back on court at first, I've also started to appreciate life without it. I've had more time with my family, more time for other things, and I've realised that I can be perfectly happy without playing.

And then there's the fear of getting injured again. After everything I've been through over the past six months, the thought of going back and potentially ending up in the same position is difficult. I don't want to go through all of this again.

But I know I'll return to squash. I love the sport too much not to. I miss competing, and I don't want to give up something I've put so much into over the years. It's just that, right now, getting back to where I was feels like a huge undertaking, both physically and mentally. I know I'll get there, but I'm not quite ready to throw myself back into it just yet.

Unfortunately, there are no guarantees with sport and exercise. An injury can come out of nowhere and take you out of the game, sometimes for months or even permanently. That's why I've been trying to stop attaching so much of my identity to being a squash player or a runner. But this is something I still struggle with. I have a tendency to pour my identity into everything I do, whether it's sport, my business, or my hobbies. When things go wrong, I take it very personally, and it can really affect me. I'd like to get better at separating who I am from the things I do, rather than letting my happiness depend so much on how well they're going. I know I'll return to squash, and I still love the sport. I just hope that when I do, I can enjoy it without feeling like it's such a defining part of who I am.

When this story continues, I'll write a part two of this article. Hopefully it's the one with the good news.

About the Author:

Joe Clark is the co-founder of Thrive Protein, a Canadian family-run supplement company. He holds a BSc (Hons) in Sport and Exercise Science and is a certified personal trainer, strength and conditioning coach, and nutrition coach. Outside of running Thrive, Joe is a keen squash player and runner who loves competing and pushing himself in sport.