3. The Part No One Talks About (Why I Stayed Stuck Longer Than I Should Have)

Part 3 of a Weekly series on returning from Achilles tendinopathy.

By the time I realized I was dealing with more than a short-term Achilles issue, something shifted. Not just physically—but mentally. I went through it in stages.

Denial. Frustration. A little bit of anger. Eventually… acceptance.

But I didn’t move through those stages cleanly. I bounced between them.

The Search for a Quick Fix

At first, I was convinced there had to be a way to speed this up.

So I tried everything:

• Shockwave

• Dry needling

• Collagen

• Eccentrics

Not randomly—but with intention.

The problem wasn’t what I was doing.

It was why.

I wasn’t building a plan.

I was looking for something that would let me get back to running faster.

The Testing Cycle

This was the real trap.

I kept “testing” it.

• Let’s just try a short run

• Let’s see how it feels today

• Maybe this time it’s fine

• Pressing on the tendon itself

Sometimes it was. For a few miles. That was enough to keep the cycle going.

Because every small “win” made me think I was turning a corner. I wasn’t.

I was just repeating the same pattern:

• Do enough to irritate it

• Back off just enough to calm it down

• Then try again

I wasn’t getting better. I was managing pain.

The Decisions That Slowed Me Down

This is the part most people don’t want to admit.

I had already decided not to run my 100-mile race.

But I still had a summer.

People visiting. Time in the mountains. Other goals I didn’t want to let go of.

So I made choices.

Big days. Long hikes. 20-mile efforts.

And I told myself:

• It’s not running

• It’s slower

• It should be fine

But load is load. And those choices mattered. They didn’t cause the injury. But they delayed the recovery.

The Lack of a Real Plan

For months, I was doing “the right things”… halfway.

• Some eccentric work

• Some cross-training

• Some rest

• Some running

But nothing was structured. Nothing was progressing. Nothing was truly controlled.

And that’s the difference. Rehab isn’t about doing good exercises. It’s about applying the right load, consistently, over time. I wasn’t doing that.

What Finally Changed

By the end of the year, I had to be honest:

This wasn’t resolving. So I made a different decision. I stopped trying to manage it on my own…and went back to working with a PT to build an actual plan. Not a collection of things.

A progression. That shift mattered more than anything else I had done up to that point.

What I Learned Along the Way

A few things that would have saved me time:

1. Recovery is slow. Really slow. There’s nothing exciting about it. It’s consistent, controlled, and honestly… a little boring.

2. Your Achilles doesn’t give instant feedback. What you do today shows up tomorrow—or the next day.

That makes it easy to misread.

3. Tracking matters. I started logging:

• What I did

• Pain in the morning

• Pain during activity

• Pain later in the day

That helped me see patterns—and just as important, it helped me mentally when it felt like nothing was working.

4. Compensation is real. As I started adding movement back in, I noticed:

• Toe gripping

• More supination

• Irritation in my post tib and into my pinky toe

If you’re not paying attention, you just trade one issue for another.

If You’re in This Phase Right Now

Be honest with yourself:

• Are you following a plan… or just trying things?

• Are you progressing load… or testing randomly?

• Are you actually improving… or just managing symptoms?

That middle phase is where most runners stay stuck. Not because they aren’t working hard. Because they aren’t being precise.

What I’ll Cover Next

Next, I’ll walk through exactly how I started rebuilding:

• What my early loading looked like

• How I structured return to running

• And how I avoided falling back into the same cycle

Because once you stop guessing, progress gets a lot more predictable.

If you’re dealing with something similar and want help navigating it, this is exactly what I coach athletes through.

Note: I’m a coach sharing my personal experience, not a medical professional. This isn’t medical advice—just what I’ve learned through my own rehab and from working with athletes.