I’ve always believed in pushing through.
You know that voice: “It’s just tightness,” “I’ll stretch it out,” “Give it time.”
For a year, I let that voice speak louder than the pain.
But by the start of January, the truth was impossible to ignore:
I couldn’t sit for more than 30 minutes without sharp, deep pain in my hamstrings.
Not just discomfort, real pain.
It would travel high, where the hamstrings connect near the sit bones: classic proximal hamstring tendinopathy.
It was a pain that reminded me something I’d rather forget:
I’m not 20 anymore. And I can’t do this alone.
The Physical Toll
I’d feel it during serves and forehands, especially the loading phase.
I’d feel it when I bent to tie my shoes.
But the worst part? I felt it just sitting still.
Sitting for dinner with friends.
Watching a movie with my daughter.
Even driving to the club became something I dreaded.
It’s strange how something so small—just the act of sitting—can start to eat away at your spirit.
The Mental Shift
Here’s the real win, though.
I finally asked for help.
That might sound small, but for me, it was a mountain.
I come from the generation that was taught to tough it out.
And if I’m honest, there’s pride wrapped up in that. A bit of ego, too.
But this journey is not just about chasing a ranking.
It’s about evolving.
And this month, evolution looked like this:
Sitting across from a physiotherapist and saying, “I can’t fix this alone.”
An Open Mind, A Healing Body
The physio sessions just started.
Trigger point therapy.
Isometric holds.
Careful glute and hamstring reactivation.
A slow but intelligent reintroduction to movement.
And even more importantly: education.
I learned what this injury really is—an overuse condition, where the tendon at the top of the hamstring becomes irritated from too much load, too soon, without enough strength or support.
I learned that it’s not about pushing through, it’s about loading smart.
That the tendon needs challenge, but in a structured, progressive way.
I listened. I asked questions. I'm following the plan.
I felt something shift not just in my body, but in my mind.
That old voice of “tough it out”?
It started to quiet.
And a new voice came through:
“Let yourself be helped.”