From Crutches to the Start Line: My Hyrox Recovery Journey
The Sound of the Pop
In April 2024, I heard a sound no athlete ever wants to hear: the unmistakable pop of my calf muscle tearing. In an instant, my goal of competing in the June Hyrox Singapore with my brother vanished. The worst part? Letting him down, leaving him to tackle the men's doubles all by himself. (For the full backstory on that heartbreak, check out my previous post).
But this story isn't about the injury. It's about the comeback.
Baby Steps and Big Frustrations
The early days of rehab were a lesson in humility. My world shrank to the distance between crutches. Every step was a calculated risk—put too much weight on my right leg, and my calf would scream in protest with a sudden, vicious cramp. It was my body's very loud, very clear way of saying, "Not yet, buddy."
My daily routine became a cycle of ultrasound therapy to tame the swelling, gentle weight-bearing exercises, and the oh-so-thrilling light resistance band work. I was incredibly lucky to have access to a great gym with a ‘total gym’ machine. This magical sled allowed me to squat with only a percentage of my bodyweight. It was the perfect tool to find that "Goldilocks" zone: not too much, not too little, but just the right amount of stress to heal.
On the Total Gym
The Mind Game: Battling the Negative Ninjas
The physical pain was one thing; the mental battle was another. The only way to stay sane was to become obsessed with the next milestone, not the past I'd lost.
Milestone 1: Weight-bearing without pain. (Celebrated with a fist pump!)
Milestone 2: Ditching the crutches. (Freedom!)
Milestone 3: A wobbly double-leg heel raise. (I felt like a champion!)
The BIG one: The first day I could skip. That wasn't just skipping. That was my ticket back to running. I was literally jumping for joy (carefully, of course).
The day I can walk normally!
Any time I tried to rush, my calf would send a sharp reminder to slow down. I also had to actively fight off three toxic mindsets that threatened to derail my progress:
Catastrophizing (a.k.a. "The Sky is Falling!"): This is when your brain convinces you that a slight twinge means you've re-torn everything and will never run again. I had to constantly fact-check my fears with reality and trust the process.
Impatience (a.k.a. "Why Can't I Be Wolverine?"): We heal slower as adults. It's a fact. Scrolling through social media and seeing others' recovery journeys was a trap. I had to remember: my only competition was the me from yesterday. As long as I was moving forward, I was winning.
Victimhood (a.k.a. "Why Me?"): Dwelling on "I'm so unlucky" is a energy sinkhole. It makes you passive. I had to shift my focus from "Why did this happen?" to "What can I do today to make it better?"
The Light at the End of the Tunnel (It Was a Red Bull Tunnel!)
Keeping those mental monsters at bay paid off. By the end of Month 1, I was tentatively jogging. The joy of that first shuffling run was almost better than a pain-free sprint!
Just as I was building back, I saw it: Perth was hosting its first-ever Hyrox on September 24th. It felt like fate. A sign that my patience had been rewarded and my 2024 goal was still within reach.
Fast forward to September 24, 2024.
There I was. A grey wristband on my right wrist, a timing chip strapped to my ankle. And right beside me, my brother and doubles partner. The music was pounding, the energy was electric. We stood in the iconic Red Bull start tunnel, watching the screen blaze:
10… 9… 8…
My heart hammered against my ribs—not from fear, but from pure, unadulterated excitement.
7… 6… 5…
A glance at my brother. A grin. We were here. We were really here.
4… 3… 2… 1…
GO!
