Pain

When “Healthy Habits” Backfire

Training with Low Energy Availability: When “Healthy Habits” Backfire

Imagine this: you’re someone who genuinely cares about your health.

You’ve been reading, learning, and experimenting.

You want to optimize your body, so you start intermittent fasting—skipping breakfast, eating a light lunch, and having a big dinner.

You’re also vegetarian, which feels great ethically and digestively.

You’ve ramped up your strength training and walking, thinking you’re ticking all the right boxes.

And yet… something feels off.

The Case of the “Healthy” Person Who Feels Like Crap

Meet Alex.

Alex isn’t new to exercise. They love staying active, and they’re committed to making smart choices for their health.

But lately, they’ve noticed:

🔻 Sore muscles that linger for days instead of bouncing back.
🔻 Workouts feel harder—even though they’re training consistently.
🔻 Less energy and motivation—despite getting enough sleep.
🔻 Tight, stiff muscles that don’t seem to recover properly.
🔻 Nagging joint discomfort—especially around the knees and hips.

What’s going on? Isn’t intermittent fasting supposed to help with recovery and longevity?

The Molecular Breakdown: What’s Happening Inside

1. Energy Availability & Protein Deficiency

Your body runs on fuel, and when you increase training without increasing nutrition, things start breaking down.

In Alex’s case, skipping breakfast & eating a light lunch means they’re in a low-energy state for most of the day. This creates:
Reduced muscle protein synthesis (MPS) – The body struggles to repair and grow muscle.
Increased muscle breakdown – The body starts using existing muscle for fuel.
Poor tendon & joint repair – Because connective tissues also need amino acids for recovery.

Since Alex is vegetarian, protein intake is already a challenge. Plant-based protein sources tend to be:

  • Lower in essential amino acids (especially leucine, key for muscle repair)

  • Less bioavailable (meaning the body absorbs them less efficiently)

This isn’t to say vegetarianism is bad—but without careful protein planning, strength training adaptations suffer.

2. Intermittent Fasting & Cortisol

Skipping meals increases cortisol levels—which isn’t necessarily bad. In the short term, cortisol helps with alertness and fat mobilization.

But in Alex’s case, consistent fasting + heavy training = chronic cortisol elevation. This leads to:
Increased muscle breakdown (catabolism).
Reduced recovery (cortisol opposes muscle repair).
Tighter, more rigid muscles (because they aren’t getting the nutrients to stay pliable).

Ever feel like your body just won’t loosen up despite stretching, foam rolling, and massage? That’s what happens when your muscles aren’t recovering properly.

3. Why Alex Feels Stiff, Sore, and Drained

On a molecular level, this combination of low protein intake + intermittent fasting + increased training leads to:

🚨 Less mitochondrial energy production – Muscles feel weak, heavy, and slow to recover.
🚨 Reduced collagen synthesis – Tendons and joints start feeling achy and more prone to irritation.
🚨 Increased metabolic waste buildup – Muscles feel stiff, sore, and less responsive.
🚨 Lower glycogen storage – Energy crashes happen more often.

Alex thinks they’re doing everything right. But in reality, their body is in a mild survival mode, prioritizing essential functions over peak performance.

How to Fix It: Smart Adjustments Without Losing the Benefits

1️⃣ Prioritize Protein Timing & Quality

  • Aim for 1.5g protein per kg body weight per day.

  • Ensure each meal has at least 20-30g protein (especially post-workout).

  • Consider a plant-based protein shake if whole food sources aren’t hitting the target.

2️⃣ Reassess Fasting Strategy

  • A lighter fasting window (e.g., 12-14 hours instead of 16+) might be better for muscle recovery.

  • If sticking with a long fast, prioritize a high-protein meal right after training.

3️⃣ Support Recovery & Flexibility

  • Hydration & electrolytes – essential for muscle pliability.

  • Active recovery (walking, foam rolling, self-massage) – clears metabolic waste.

  • Smart strength training – not just more, but better quality and timed with nutrition.

Final Thoughts: Strength Isn’t Just About Training—It’s About Recovery

Many people fall into the trap of thinking “more training = more results.”

But when energy and protein intake don’t support that increased demand, strength doesn’t translate into function—it just turns into stiffness, soreness, and fatigue.

Want more adaptable, stronger muscles?
👉 Feed them.
👉 Recover well.
👉 Train smarter, not just harder.

Your body isn’t a machine—it’s a living system that thrives on balance.

Find yours, and you’ll not only feel stronger, but you’ll actually move and function better.

Why We Need to Move On From Shockwave Therapy for Tendons

Why We Need to Move On From Shockwave Therapy for Tendons

By Physio Daniel O’Grady

Let’s talk about shockwave therapy for tendon pain.

It’s been around for a while, but is it really worth your time, money, and effort?

A new, high-quality study shows the answer is clear:

No, it’s not.

This research is a game-changer.

It shows us that it’s time to leave shockwave therapy behind and focus on better, more effective ways to recover from tendon pain.

Let me explain why this study matters and why it’s time for us to move forward.

A Study You Can Trust

This wasn’t just another small, poorly done study.

This was a randomized controlled trial—the gold standard of clinical research.

The researchers wanted to find out if shockwave therapy actually helps people with insertional Achilles tendinopathy, a common type of tendon pain.

Here’s what made this study so reliable:

  • Participants were randomly split into two groups: one got shockwave therapy, and the other got a fake, sham treatment.

  • Both groups received the same high-quality exercise program and education about their condition. The only difference was the shockwave therapy.

  • Participants and assessors were blinded—they didn’t know who got the real treatment. This helped eliminate bias and ensured the results were fair.

What Did the Study Find?

After 6 weeks and 12 weeks, the results were in: there was no difference between the group that received shockwave therapy and the group that got the sham treatment.

That’s right—shockwave therapy didn’t improve pain, function, or any other outcome.

Even with a solid exercise program alongside it, shockwave therapy offered no extra benefit.

This finding is consistent with previous research, which has also failed to show that shockwave therapy is effective for tendon pain.

Why Does This Matter?

Shockwave therapy is expensive, time-consuming, and often uncomfortable.

If it doesn’t work any better than a fake treatment, why are we still using it?

This study tells us it’s time to stop chasing ineffective solutions and focus on what actually helps.

The good news? We already have effective tools for tendon recovery: exercise and education.

Why This Study Stands Out

This research wasn’t just any study—it was done right. Here’s why it’s so trustworthy:

  1. It included 76 participants, enough to ensure the results were reliable.

  2. It measured real-world outcomes, like pain, function, and quality of life. These are the things that actually matter to patients.

  3. It followed modern clinical guidelines, allowing participants to keep walking, running, and staying active as long as their pain was manageable. This makes the results much more applicable to everyday life.

Meet the Expert: Professor Peter Malliaras

One of the lead researchers on this study was Professor Peter Malliaras, a world-renowned expert in tendon rehabilitation.

He’s spent decades helping people recover from tendon pain and is a leader in evidence-based approaches to treatment.

Professor Malliaras has published numerous scientific papers on tendon pain and regularly trains physiotherapists around the world.

His work emphasizes what really works—like load management and exercise—and steers us away from outdated or ineffective treatments.

If he’s saying shockwave therapy doesn’t help, you can trust that it’s based on solid evidence.

A Better Way Forward

So, what should you do if you’re dealing with tendon pain?

The answer is simple: Focus on exercise and education.

Exercise, when done right, strengthens your tendon and helps it handle the demands of your life—whether that’s walking, running, or sports.

Education helps you understand your pain and manage it with confidence.

These approaches are backed by strong evidence and don’t rely on expensive, unproven add-ons like shockwave therapy.

The Takeaway

Let’s be bold: It’s time to move on from shockwave therapy.

The evidence is clear—it doesn’t work better than a placebo.

Instead, we should focus on the bigger picture: building resilience, managing load, and using proven strategies to recover from tendon pain.

Your recovery doesn’t need gimmicks or quick fixes.

It needs patience, the right exercises, and a focus on what really matters.

It’s just about to tick over to 2025—let’s leave ineffective treatments behind and embrace what works.

If you’re ready to take control of your tendon pain start with a comprehensive evaluation with expert Physio Daniel O’Grady.

Research link:

Does shockwave therapy lead to better pain and function than sham over 12 weeks in people with insertional Achilles tendinopathy? A randomised controlled trial

Moseley’s Red/Blue Light Study: Why It’s Time to Move On

Moseley’s Red/Blue Light Study: Why It’s Time to Move On

Let’s talk about Moseley’s infamous red/blue light study—a research piece from nearly 20 years ago that somehow still gets rolled out as a cornerstone of pain science education.

It’s a clever experiment, sure, but it’s wildly overused to justify his unwavering commitment to the neuromatrix model.

Here’s the thing - it’s an extremely superficial look at pain that doesn’t hold up when you dig deeper.

Worse, its oversimplified conclusions have caused real-world harm to patients and clinicians alike.

I think it’s to time we moved on.

What Does the Study Actually Show?

In the study, a noxious cold probe was paired with either a red light (associated with danger, tissue damage) or a blue light (associated with cold, less dangerous).

Participants rated the pain unpleasantness as higher with the red light, but pain intensity—how physically strong the pain felt—didn’t change.

This means that context (the visual cue) affected the emotional evaluation of pain (unpleasantness) but not the raw sensory experience (intensity).

This is an interesting finding—but very narrow.

It’s about exteroception (external cues like vision) influencing pain perception.

That’s fine for a lab-controlled experiment on acute pain, but it tells us nothing about interoception, chronic pain, or the real-world complexity of pain.


In a recent 2023 podcast, Moseley doubled down on his study with this quote:

“There were some people for whom, with the blue light they reported no pain and with the red light they reported pain eight out of ten. And that’s a very severe pain. There are other people who reported the same level of pain in each situation. And in scientific terms we describe those people as idiots (laugh) because their brains are not picking up on these cues that everyone else is picking up on.”

This is deeply problematic for several reasons:

  • Dismissive attitude: Referring to participants as "idiots" because they didn’t conform to the expected pattern is disrespectful and ignores the complexity of individual pain responses and the fact that they can trust their bodies experience without being contaminated with external distractions (a rare and amazing skill to be honest)

  • Moseley uses phrases like "pain eight out of ten" without distinguishing whether he means intensity (strength) or unpleasantness (emotional impact). However, based on the study results, the only dimension that showed such variability in response to the cues was pain unpleasantness, not intensity. This lack of clarity can be misleading

  • Pain intensity and pain unpleasantness are distinct dimensions, and conflating them obscures the actual findings of the study. It risks overstating the impact of visual cues, as they DIDN’T alter the sensory intensity of the pain but only its EMOTIONAL interpretation.

  • Failure to update his model: Instead of recognizing that his study barely scratches the surface of pain complexity, Moseley doubles down on his original findings, refusing to appreciate their limited scope.

  • Ignores interoception and chronic pain: His study is about acute nociceptive pain modulated by visual cues. Chronic pain, which involves interoceptive processes (e.g., inflammation, fatigue, homeostatic dysregulation), isn’t even in the same ballpark.


Moseley’s study isn’t a bad experiment—it’s just wildly overgeneralized. Here’s why:

  • It only applies to exteroceptive pain: The study is about surface-level pain influenced by external cues (red/blue light). It says nothing about deeper, interoceptive pain (e.g., from muscles or organs), which involves different brain regions like the insular cortex.

  • It separates pain intensity from unpleasantness: The findings show that context changes unpleasantness (salience), NOT intensity.

  • But in real-world chronic pain, those dimensions are deeply intertwined and modulated by systemic factors like inflammation and central sensitization.

  • It ignores chronic pain altogether: Chronic pain is a much messier phenomenon involving altered interoception, disrupted homeostasis, and central sensitization. This study doesn’t even begin to address that complexity.


Unintended Harmful Consequences

By clinging to this superficial study, Moseley’s work has contributed to serious downstream problems:

  • Gaslighting patients: Patients with chronic pain are often told their pain is just a "brain output," implying it’s all in their head. This dismisses the real interoceptive and structural factors driving their pain, leaving them feeling invalidated and alienated.

  • Oversimplified treatments: The idea that context alone can “rewire” pain has spawned treatments that focus on changing the brain’s interpretation of pain while ignoring physical contributors like mitochondrial dysfunction, inflammation, and recovery deficits.

  • Therapist confusion: Clinicians trying to reconcile this brain-centric model with their patients’ real-world experiences often find it doesn’t work. Chronic pain doesn’t behave like the tidy pain in Moseley’s lab study, and therapists are left frustrated and unsure how to help.

Bud Craig’s Interoceptive Model: A Better Framework

Bud Craig’s work on interoception offers a much more realistic and applicable model for understanding pain:

  • Pain as a homeostatic emotion: Pain reflects disruptions in the body’s internal state, integrating interoceptive signals with emotional and cognitive processes.

  • Role of the insular cortex: Unlike the neuromatrix model, Craig’s framework emphasizes the insular cortex as a hub for processing interoceptive inputs (e.g., inflammation, fatigue) and driving adaptive responses.

  • Chronic pain as a prediction mismatch: Craig’s model explains chronic pain as a mismatch between the brain’s predictions and the body’s actual internal signals, a more accurate representation of what patients experience.

This framework doesn’t just make more sense scientifically—it aligns better with what patients and therapists see in the real world.

The unpleasantness of tonic pain is encoded by the insular cortex

While Moseley’s red/blue light study has been widely cited, its focus on acute skin-based sensations (exteroception) offers little relevance to the kind of pain most patients bring to a physiotherapist.

In stark contrast, Schreckenberger’s study, The unpleasantness of tonic pain is encoded by the insular cortex, dives into the mechanisms of interoceptive pain, the deep, internal discomfort often experienced in muscles and other tissues.

Schreckenberger’s research highlights how muscle pain—the type of pain patients commonly report—activates the insular cortex, which encodes the unpleasantness of pain tied to homeostatic dysregulation and internal states.

Unlike superficial findings from Moseley’s study, which rely on external cues like light, Schreckenberger’s work reflects real-world pain mechanisms and offers a far more valid framework for understanding and treating the persistent pain that drives patients to seek care.

This critical distinction underlines why Moseley’s study, despite its fame lacks practical relevance.

Time to Retire the Red/Blue Light Study

Moseley needs to stop using this study as the cornerstone of his arguments.

It’s outdated, oversimplified, and irrelevant to the complexity of chronic pain.

Pain science has moved on, and so should Moseley. His refusal to update his model—despite the clear limitations of this study—shows a troubling lack of humility.

The future of pain science lies in embracing complexity, not reducing pain to a “brain output” but understanding it as a dynamic interplay of interoception, homeostasis, and real-world biology.

Bud Craig’s interoceptive model offers a path forward.

Let’s stop relying on superficial lab studies and start focusing on what truly helps patients.

If Lorimer Mosely was open to question - this is what I would love to know…

"How do you see your red/blue light study, which focuses on external skin pain, applying to the deeper, internal pain that most patients experience in muscles or joints? And do you think its widespread interpretation might have unintentionally led to oversimplified treatments or left some patients feeling dismissed?"

Embracing Complexity in Back Pain Management

Tim Ferriss Back Pain - My Thoughts On How He Can Heal For Good

As a longtime follower of Tim Ferriss’ work, I’ve soaked up countless insights from his books, podcasts, and experiments.

Tim’s humble curiosity and hunger to learn from experts have always struck a chord with me.

This post is my take on managing back pain, inspired by Tim’s journey, particularly his conversation with physical therapy legend Shirley Sahrmann.

First off, huge shoutout to Tim for being open and transparent about his struggles with back pain.

It’s refreshing to see someone with such influence talk about real-world issues so candidly, and it’s what motivated me to throw my hat in the ring.

So, Tim, if you happen to stumble across this blog, thanks for all the lessons over the years.

In the spirit of Susan Cain’s approach to "telling the truths people don’t talk about," this blog aims to dive into the complexities of persistent pain.

And yep, I know—once you bring up anything that isn’t pain = tissue damage, it’s easy to hit the wall of “so it’s all in my head then?”

Trust me, I’ve been there, and I get it.

This blog is not about taking anything away from the realness of pain.

Instead, it’s about shedding light on new ways of understanding it.

Hopefully, this might help you—maybe even Tim—see the bigger picture and start seeing genuine progress on your healing journey.

Ground Zero: Biological Factors Matter

Before we get into the weeds, let’s be clear: biological factors like red flags, general health issues, inflammatory arthritis, or digestive issues can play a role in back pain.

If Tim were my patient, I’d want to rule out any serious conditions first (rare but important!). Once that’s done, we can move on and look at the bigger picture with a bit more clarity.

The Biomechanical Rabbit Hole

Over the years Tim has spoken a lot about his battle with back pain.

A recent podcast episode with Shirley Sahrmann was really enlightening as the discussion was 100% focused on the potential biomechanical sources of Tim’s back pain and I can’t (respectfully) help but feel that this conversation got stuck in the 80s—a time when biomechanics dominated the physical therapy scene.

I couldn’t help but think if Shirley had simply asked Tim, “So how long have you been dealing with this pain?”, it would have opened a new conversation at a deeper level about the struggle and how Tim has tried just about everything under the sun to heal his back pain.

But in the case Shirley was the next ‘EXPERT’ (in a long line) and she was trying to solve Tim’s back pain from within the same biomedical paradigm with her own interpretation.

Don't get me wrong, biomechanics matter, but when we focus too much on structural “faults” (like posture, joint alignment or muscle imbalances), we risk creating fragility.

The nocebo effect—where we think our bodies are broken—can be a sneaky byproduct of this approach.

Tim’s struggle to find clarity reminds me of the story of, The Blind Men and the Elephant with all the ‘expert’s giving their limited view opinions.

Research credit link

In Tim's case, relying solely on biomechanics for persistent back pain can become a slippery slope.

There’s this unspoken belief that if you stretch, strengthen, or massage just the right spot, the pain will vanish.

But for persistent pain, the body’s way more complex than a squeaky wheel that needs grease.

Tim’s Journey: David vs. Goliath

Listening to Tim’s saga of conflicting diagnoses felt like watching someone go through the stages of grief.

Denial, frustration, and ultimately, acceptance.

He’s doing battle with a seemingly unbeatable Goliath—persistent pain—and like David, you don’t win by just swinging harder.

You win with a smarter strategy.

Sure, Tim’s massage tool obsession with his Quadratus Lumborum (QL) might give short-term relief, but it's like winning the battle and losing the war.

While this tool might offer short-term benefits, it risks creating a cycle of temporary improvement followed by long-term discomfort due to the inflammatory response it can trigger around the tendon-bone junction (presents around 24 hours after compression loads on the tendon/bone interface with things like heavy pressure massage and stretching).

This cycle of "winning the battle but losing the war" is a common trap in managing persistent pain.

Persistent pain isn’t solved by chasing symptoms.

It’s not just bout ‘beating’ the pain with brute force or finding the magic pill (or foam roller).

Core Strength: The Pilates Paradox (and Why It’s Not Always About More Strength)

One thing that stood out to me was Tim’s focus on core strengthening as the answer to his back pain.

And honestly, he's far from alone—many people believe that if they could just strengthen their core, everything would fall back into place.

The problem is, more strength isn’t always the answer.

Focusing too much on core exercises like Pilates can actually create muscle imbalances and tension, particularly in areas like the paraspinal muscles. This tension can exacerbate pain rather than alleviate it.

Enter Neuroscientist Bud Craig’s Homeostatic Model—a much-needed update to how we think about pain.

Unlike the biomechanical model that tends to zero in on tissue damage or faulty movement as the cause of pain, Craig's model introduces a more nuanced understanding of persistent pain—one that ties into the body’s homeostasis, or balance, system.

Homeostasis is your body's constant effort to maintain internal balance—think temperature regulation, hydration, blood pressure, blood glucose and inflammation etc.

Pain is part of this system; it’s not just a signal that something is broken or needs fixing.

It’s more like your body’s smoke alarm, warning you of potential threats to balance, not necessarily actual structural damage.

When you experience persistent pain, your body is often trying to communicate homeostatic imbalance rather than injury.

And this is crucial to understand, especially for those stuck in the cycle of flare-ups and frustration.

Pain Flare-Ups: Not a Sign of Failure, but a Sign of Dysregulation

When someone with persistent pain, like Tim, goes through a flare-up, the common assumption is, “Oh no, I’ve made it worse” or “There’s more damage happening.”

But that’s the old, outdated way of looking at pain.

What Bud Craig’s model offers is a fresh perspective that can calm that spiraling thought process of fear and self-blame.

Instead of assuming that a flare-up means further injury, the homeostatic model suggests the body is simply going through a temporary state of dysregulation.

Think of it like this: when your core temperature rises during a fever, your body isn’t falling apart—it’s simply responding to a threat (like an infection).

Similarly, a pain flare-up isn’t necessarily a sign that you’ve wrecked your back again.

It could mean your body is out of balance—maybe stress, poor sleep, or even overdoing an exercise—but not damaged.

Your body is amplifying the pain signal as part of a broader system that’s trying to protect you.

Fear and the Amplification of Suffering

Here’s where things get sticky: when we believe that pain = damage, flare-ups lead us down the rabbit hole of fear, rumination, and catastrophizing.

“Did I hurt myself again?”

“What if this pain never goes away?”

This amplifies the suffering experience, making the pain feel more intense and more threatening than it actually is.

Bud Craig’s model helps break this vicious cycle by giving us a better explanation for why pain flares up without needing to default to the assumption that “something broke.”

Instead of seeing the flare-up as a personal failure or as more physical damage, we can see it as part of the body’s attempt to maintain or regain balance.

This shift in understanding takes away some of the fear that exacerbates the pain experience.

Moving Forward with a New Framework

Understanding that pain is part of a broader system working to protect and balance the body allows for a more empowered approach to healing.

Rather than frantically searching for the next quick fix or perfect core exercise, we can start looking at pain through the lens of homeostasis.

By addressing the underlying factors—whether it’s stress, inflammation, or even emotional states—we can help our bodies regain balance and move towards long-term relief.

It also helps us make peace with the idea that flare-ups will happen, but they don’t have to trigger panic.

They aren’t necessarily signs of worsening injury; they’re opportunities to reflect on what might be tipping your body out of balance.

Did you push too hard in your workout? Did you miss out on sleep or skip meals? Were you sitting in poor posture for hours?

Understanding these factors can not only help you manage flare-ups more effectively but also prevent them in the future.

So, next time the pain kicks up, remember: it’s not necessarily a failure or proof of more damage. It's your body signaling a need for balance, not another round of strengthening exercises.

Learn more about Bud Craig’s pain model here

The Mental Game: “Is This the New Normal?”

Tim’s candidness about fearing a life of chronic pain was raw and relatable.

When he said, “Fuck, is this the new normal?” I felt that.

Chronic pain is not just a physical battle—it’s a mental one too.

Fear of the unknown, fear of making it worse, and the mental load of trying so hard to fix yourself… it’s draining.

And unfortunately, obsessing over pain and searching for solutions can become part of the problem.

Here’s the paradox: the harder we try to "get rid" of the pain, the more we signal danger to our bodies.

And like Tim’s experience with OCD, preoccupation can amplify that pain, turning it into an even bigger monster.

John Sarno & Alan Gordon: Healing Beyond the Physical

Tim mentioned John Sarno and his theory that unresolved emotions, like anger, play a role in chronic pain.

While Sarno’s views can be extreme, there’s truth in recognizing the emotional and psychological layers of pain.

Similarly, Alan Gordon’s work on how fear can amplify pain is powerful. Gordon’s approach of somatic tracking—a bit like tuning a guitar—helps people reinterpret their pain sensations.

Instead of fighting the body, it teaches us to feel the pain differently and reduce its grip.

Alan Gordon’s Research: Pain Reprocessing Therapy and the Power of Somatic Tracking

When it comes to chronic pain, especially persistent back pain like Tim Ferriss has experienced, it’s easy to get caught in a never-ending loop of fear and frustration.

The brain interprets pain as a sign that something is wrong—a threat.

This response kicks off a cascade of reactions that can amplify the pain and make it stick around long after any original injury or damage has healed. Enter Alan Gordon and his game-changing work on Pain Reprocessing Therapy (PRT).

PRT is based on the understanding that chronic pain often stems from neural pathways in the brain rather than ongoing tissue damage.

In other words, persistent pain isn't always the result of something physically wrong in the body but can be caused by the brain mistakenly treating normal bodily homeostatic signals as if they were dangerous.

By helping patients retrain their brains to view these signals as safe, rather than threatening, PRT has shown impressive results in reducing chronic pain.

A key technique in this therapy is something called somatic tracking—a simple yet powerful method that can fundamentally shift how we interpret and respond to pain.

The Pain-Fear Cycle: Why the Brain Amplifies Pain

Before diving into somatic tracking, it’s important to understand the vicious cycle that so many people with chronic pain, like Tim, get caught in.

Pain is a danger signal sent by the body to alert us of potential danger, but when we experience that pain over and over—without an obvious injury or problem—it can trigger fear.

That fear, in turn, tells the brain, “Hey, this pain must be something serious. We should pay more attention to it.”

The brain, acting like an overly cautious guard dog, starts to amplify the homeostatic signals, increasing the sensitivity of the nervous system to even minor homeostatic imbalances.

This pain-fear-pain cycle can quickly spiral, making the pain feel worse and more overwhelming.

It’s easy to see why this can lead to frustration, rumination, and a constant search for a fix.

But the more we search, the more hyper-focused we become on the pain, sending the brain even stronger signals that something is wrong.

It's like trying to get rid of a fly by swatting at it repeatedly—you just end up making it more agitated.

Reframing Pain as Safety: The Role of Somatic Tracking

Somatic tracking, one of the key techniques in Alan Gordon’s PRT, is a method for breaking this cycle.

At its core, somatic tracking helps people observe their pain sensations with a sense of safety and curiosity rather than fear and dread.

By doing so, it reprograms the brain to interpret these sensations as non-threatening.

Here’s how it works: instead of panicking or becoming hyper-focused when you feel a twinge of pain, somatic tracking invites you to tune into the sensation with a more relaxed, neutral, even curious mindset.

You acknowledge the sensation without judgment or fear.

Rather than thinking, "Oh no, my back is flaring up again, something must be wrong," you tell yourself, "This is just a sensation. My body is safe, and this pain doesn’t mean there’s damage."

This simple reframing helps shift the brain’s interpretation of the pain signal from danger to safety.

And once the brain realizes that these signals aren’t a threat, it begins to quiet the alarm system, dialing down the intensity of the pain.

Why Somatic Tracking Works: Rewiring the Brain’s Response

Somatic tracking taps into the concept of neuroplasticity, which is the brain’s ability to rewire itself.

Chronic pain often exists not because of ongoing injury, but because the brain has developed pathways that keep firing pain signals.

By using somatic tracking, you are essentially reprogramming those pathways.

Over time, the more you practice somatic tracking, the more the brain starts to believe, “Hey, maybe this pain isn’t as dangerous as we thought.”

The neural circuits responsible for amplifying pain begin to weaken, and the pain starts to subside. It’s not a quick fix—rewiring takes time—but for many, it’s a long-term solution that helps reduce the intensity and frequency of pain without invasive treatments or medications.

How to Practice Somatic Tracking

Somatic tracking is surprisingly simple, but it does take practice. Here’s a basic step-by-step approach:

  1. Acknowledge the Pain: When you feel pain, instead of immediately reacting with fear or frustration, pause and recognize the sensation. Name it: “I’m feeling some tension in my lower back.”

  2. Reframe the Sensation: Remind yourself that this sensation isn’t a sign of damage or danger. It’s just your body sending signals, and your brain has been interpreting these signals in a heightened way. Say to yourself, “This is just a sensation. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s not dangerous.”

  3. Tune Into It with Curiosity: Instead of avoiding the sensation or trying to push it away, gently focus on it with curiosity. Notice how the sensation changes—does it stay the same, or does it shift? How intense is it, and where exactly is it located? By approaching it with curiosity, you’re telling your brain that it doesn’t need to go on high alert.

  4. Pair It with Relaxation: As you observe the pain, take slow, deep breaths. This helps reinforce the message that you are safe and that there is no need for your body to react with fear or stress. This combination of observation and relaxation is key to retraining your brain’s response to pain.

  5. Stay Present: Try not to judge the pain or think about what it means for the future. Avoid the catastrophizing thoughts that might creep in. Stay focused on the present moment and the sensation in your body, reminding yourself that it’s just that—a sensation.

Somatic Tracking in Action: A Real Example

Imagine Tim, mid-back flare-up, frustrated and worried that he’s done something to make his pain worse.

Instead of rushing to stretch, foam roll, or reach for a quick fix, he tries somatic tracking.

He acknowledges the pain but doesn’t catastrophize it. He breathes slowly, focuses on the sensation, and instead of seeing it as a sign that he’s damaged something, he tells himself, “This pain doesn’t mean harm. It’s just my body being a bit too cautious.”

Over time, with repeated practice, Tim’s brain begins to dial down the pain alarm.

The brain stops treating normal sensations as dangerous, and flare-ups become less intense and less frequent.

From Threat to Safety: Why Somatic Tracking is a Game Changer

Somatic tracking is such a powerful tool because it directly addresses the fear-pain loop that keeps chronic pain alive.

By teaching the brain to feel safe in the presence of pain, it reduces the fear and stress that amplify suffering. Instead of reacting to every flare-up with panic and trying to "fix" it, somatic tracking allows you to sit with the sensation, knowing it will pass.

For people like Tim—and anyone dealing with persistent pain—this shift from threat to safety can be life-changing.

It’s not about ignoring the pain or pretending it’s not there, but about learning to respond to it in a way that doesn’t fuel the fire.

By reframing pain as a harmless sensation, the body can start to heal, and the brain can stop overreacting to every twinge.

So, if you find yourself stuck in the cycle of fear and pain, give somatic tracking a try. It’s a simple, accessible way to turn down the volume on your pain and take back control.

Embracing the Bigger Picture: Mushrooms, Fasting, and Holistic Healing

In a recent podcast, Tim talked about his journey to South America, involving mushrooms, water fasting, and emotional release as part of his healing.

And look, as wild as it sounds, this mulit-dimensional approach highlights something important: persistent pain is about the whole person, not just the muscles or joints.

Emotional, psychological, and even lifestyle factors play a huge role.

We can’t just laser-focus on the physical stuff and hope for lasting relief.


Here are three inspiring messages from guests on Tim Ferriss' podcast:

Jerry Seinfeld: Embracing Self-Reliance and the Illusion of the Expert

Jerry Seinfeld dropped a gem during his appearance on the podcast: “The fact that you’ve even signed up for this class is a very bad sign for what you’re trying to do. The fact that you think anyone can help you or there’s anything you need to learn, you have gone off on a bad track because no one knows anything about any of this.”

While blunt, Jerry’s message resonates in the context of persistent pain management.

His point challenges the illusion that external "experts" hold the key to solving your problems.

In the world of pain management, this idea can be incredibly freeing.

Instead of relying on external fixes or gurus, Jerry’s insight encourages people to become their own experts—learning about their own bodies, pain patterns, and what strategies truly work for them.

This advice is particularly empowering for anyone dealing with persistent pain.

It reminds you that while external knowledge can guide you, the ultimate power to heal and understand your body comes from within.

Jane McGonigal: Urgent Optimism for Pain Flare-Ups

Jane McGonigal’s concept of urgent optimism is a game-changer for managing persistent pain. She emphasizes the importance of preparing for and accepting the inevitability of setbacks or flare-ups, but with a proactive mindset.

In McGonigal's words, this isn't about being pessimistic; it’s about being realistic and taking control of the situation.

Expecting a pain flare-up to occur—and having a game plan in place for when it does—removes the element of surprise and reduces the fear associated with it.

Her message encourages us to adopt a stance of readiness and action, shifting the narrative from one of helplessness to empowerment.

McGonigal’s urgent optimism highlights that, despite pain flare-ups, you have the tools to influence the outcome positively.

You can prepare, adapt, and respond in ways that lessen both the frequency and severity of these episodes.

Naval Ravikant: Strength in Struggle

Naval Ravikant brings a powerful perspective to the table with his statement:

“You are strong only where you were broken.”

This quote speaks to the heart of resilience and growth through adversity.

For those dealing with persistent pain, it’s a reminder that every setback, every struggle, and every moment of pain is not just an obstacle but an opportunity to develop strength and deeper understanding.

Naval’s message reframes pain as not just something to overcome, but something that shapes you into a stronger, more resilient version of yourself.

It encourages you to see pain not as an enemy, but as a teacher guiding you towards greater self-awareness and genuine healing.

Conclusion: What Would It Look Like If It Were Easy?

If managing persistent back pain were easy, it would look like a simple, balanced approach that avoids overcomplicating the healing process.

It wouldn’t involve chasing quick fixes or getting stuck in cycles of fear and over-correction.

Instead, you’d focus on gentle movement, healthy breathing, and mindful strategies like somatic tracking to reframe your relationship with pain.

The goal is to create a holistic lifestyle that balances physical, emotional, and mental health—where back pain is managed in a sustainable way, without obsessing over perfect techniques or endless fixes.

This approach fosters resilience, allowing you to trust your body and reduce the constant rumination that can come with chronic pain.

In short, the path to managing back pain would be easy if it integrated relaxation, awareness, and gentle care—turning pain from a battle into a process of balance and healing.

Wrapping Up

Tim’s journey with back pain mirrors what so many of us go through.

It’s messy, it’s frustrating, and it’s certainly not fixed by stretching your way out of it.

The key takeaway?

Persistent pain is a multi-dimensional challenge that demands a multi-dimensional approach.

You don’t just need more strength—you need a strategy.

And sometimes, the best strategy is zooming out and rethinking what you’ve been doing all along.

Got thoughts?

Drop a comment below—good, bad, or ugly, I’m all ears.

Cheers, Dan O'Grady Adelaide, Australia

Hunger and Pain

Pain and Hunger: Why Sensory Pathways Matter

Pain Neuroscience Education (PNE) has gained popularity in recent years, with proponents arguing that pain is more about brain signals and emotions than about sensory input from the body.

Drawing from philosophies like the "pain neuromatrix" developed by Ronald Melzack, PNE advocates claim that pain is entirely a brain-generated experience, influenced by our thoughts, beliefs, and emotions.

But what if we compared pain to another fundamental experience that most of us understand well: hunger?

In this post, we’ll use hunger to challenge PNE’s neurocentric view and explain why sensory pathways from the body are essential for pain perception.

Hunger and Pain: Parallel Experiences

Both hunger and pain are essential survival signals based on homeostasis becoming disturbed.

Hunger motivates us to eat, while pain drives us to protect our bodies from injury.

Both sensations involve a complex interaction between brain signals and bodily inputs.

However, just as you cannot experience hunger without input from your body, you cannot truly experience pain without the sensory pathways that relay signals from the affected area.

How Hunger Works: A Brain-Body Partnership

Hunger is not just "in the mind."

It’s a perfect example of interoception—the way our brain interprets internal body signals.

When you’re hungry, your brain is responding to several cues from the body:

  • The stomach stretches or contracts, sending signals via the vagus nerve to the brainstem.

  • Hormones like ghrelin are released, which signal hunger to the hypothalamus.

  • The body’s energy status is monitored, and when glucose levels are low, signals are sent to urge us to eat.

While emotions or habits can influence hunger (like seeing food commercials), the physical sensation of hunger still depends on these signals from the body.

The brain alone cannot generate the feeling of hunger without these sensory inputs.

Pain Needs Sensory Pathways, Just Like Hunger

Pain works similarly to hunger.

It’s a multi-dimensional experience, combining sensory input with cognitive and emotional components.

However, sensory pathways from the body are crucial for the brain to create the pain experience.

Just as the brain responds to signals from the stomach to generate hunger, it also relies on sensory signals from the affected tissue to generate pain.

Here’s why sensory input is critical in pain:

  1. Nociceptors (homeostatic sensory receptors) in the skin, muscles, or joints detect potential damage (heat, pressure, inflammation) and send signals through the spinal cord to the brain.

  2. The brain integrates these signals with emotional and cognitive factors, like fear or anxiety, but without the original sensory input, the pain experience wouldn’t happen.

  3. In cases like phantom limb pain, while the brain can generate a pain experience in the absence of a limb, it’s often because the brain’s neural map still includes sensory memories from that missing limb. This phenomenon shows how pain requires a connection to past or present bodily sensations.

PNE's Neurocentric View: Where It Falls Short

PNE proponents argue that pain can exist without any sensory input from the body, relying heavily on the neurocentric "pain neuromatrix" theory.

According to this model, the brain constructs pain purely from a mix of emotions, past experiences, beliefs, and sensory inputs—sometimes even in the absence of any injury.

While it's true that pain is influenced by these factors, PNE oversimplifies by suggesting that pain is predominantly a "brain-made" problem.

This model is helpful for understanding some aspects of chronic pain, but it’s dangerously incomplete.

It implies that pain can exist without any ongoing input from the body, which is misleading and can lead to overemphasis on cognitive strategies (like reframing thoughts or beliefs) while ignoring the sensory pathways that play a fundamental role in pain perception.

Why Sensory Pathways Matter in Pain

Let’s return to the hunger analogy.

Imagine if you were told that hunger is just an emotion, purely generated by the brain, without any connection to your body’s energy needs.

You might be able to delay hunger temporarily through distraction, but ultimately, your body’s signals would push back, demanding attention.

The same is true for pain: while thoughts, emotions, and beliefs can influence pain, the underlying sensory inputs cannot be ignored.

  1. Misleading patients: The PNE approach often suggests that pain can be "thought away" by changing beliefs or reframing the way patients think about pain. While these strategies can help, they neglect the reality that pain still needs sensory input from the body to fully exist. Ignoring the sensory aspect risks alienating patients who feel that their pain is being dismissed or minimized as "an output of the brain."

  2. Manual interventions: Techniques like manual therapy, dry needling, or exercise affect the sensory pathways and are vital in managing pain. These are often overlooked by PNE advocates who favor cognitive strategies over hands-on treatment.

Moving Toward a More Balanced Understanding of Pain

The brain and body are in constant communication, and both are essential in understanding pain.

Sensory pathways from the body provide the brain with crucial information that influences how pain is experienced, just as signals from the stomach influence how hunger is perceived.

Dismissing these pathways in favor of a purely brain-centric model like the "pain neuromatrix" oversimplifies the complexity of pain.

Conclusion: We Need Both Brain and Body in Pain Management

Incorporating sensory pathways into pain education helps create a more comprehensive and accurate understanding of pain.

Instead of focusing solely on the brain's role in generating pain, we should recognize the critical role that body signals play, just like in hunger.

Cognitive strategies and emotional regulation are essential, but they must be balanced with respect for the sensory input that drives much of the pain experience.

Pain isn't just in your head—it’s in your body too.

For effective pain management, we need to move beyond the neurocentric models and embrace a more balanced, whole-body approach.