Podiatrist · Specialist in Biomechanics · Founder of VOLKAN
"The last tissue that sometimes needs to recover after an injury is not a muscle or a tendon. It is the confidence with which the brain allows movement again."
"Everything is fine… but I still have pain"
A few years ago, I treated a runner who had suffered an ankle sprain.
He had followed the treatment.
He had regained mobility.
The strength was practically the same as in the other leg.
The imaging tests showed no relevant injury.
However, he was still walking cautiously.
Every time the ground was uneven, he slowed down.
He avoided certain movements.
And a phrase kept coming up during the consultation.
—I feel that the ankle is still not trustworthy.
The most striking thing was not the state of the ankle.
It was the relationship that his brain still had with it.
Healing and recovering do not always happen at the same time
When we think of an injury, we often imagine a very simple process.
The tissue tears.
The tissue heals.
The problem disappears.
But biology rarely follows such a linear path.
While a ligament heals, the nervous system is also learning.
It learns which movements were painful.
What situations posed danger.
What positions should be avoided.
That learning is useful during the acute phase.
Protects.
Reduces risks.
Promotes the repair.
The problem arises when that protective strategy remains active long after the tissue has regained its capacity.
The brain also has memory.
We all know how to ride a bike even if years have passed.
Our nervous system remembers.
With the pain something similar happens.
After a major injury, the brain can associate certain movements with an unpleasant experience.
Not because those movements are still dangerous.
But because they once were.
That memory does not mean there is damage.
It means that the organism is being cautious.
Sometimes, too cautious.
The protection can last longer than necessary.
Imagine a fire alarm.
Its function is to alert when there is smoke.
Now imagine that, after putting out the fire, the alarm continues to sound for hours.
The alarm is not broken because it went off at first.
It’s functioning too much.
With some processes of persistent pain something similar can happen.
The nervous system maintains a high level of vigilance even though the tissue has healed.
Not because the organism has made a mistake.
But because protecting has always been an evolutionary priority.
The issue is to help you understand that the danger is no longer the same.
Regaining the movement is also regaining confidence.
That is why rehabilitation is not just about strengthening muscles or improving mobility.
It also involves providing the brain with repeated experiences of safe movement.
Each step without negative consequences.
Each exercise that the body successfully completes.
Each activity that is no longer perceived as a threat.
All of this modifies the interpretation of the nervous system.
Confidence does not appear because someone tells us that everything is fine.
It appears when the brain accumulates enough experiences to believe it again.
What does this have to do with barefoot?
A lot.
Some people find that more flexible footwear helps them regain sensations, mobility, and foot participation.
Others need to first reduce the load or use different tools before feeling prepared.
Barefoot does not generate confidence by itself.
What it can do is become an opportunity for the body to explore movements it had stopped performing.
But that exploration must occur without rush and without fear.
It is not about proving that the foot can do everything from day one.
It is about allowing the nervous system to check, step by step, that movement can be safe.
What I see every day in consultation.
There is a very special moment during some recoveries.
It does not coincide with the disappearance of pain.
It coincides with something else.
The patient stops constantly thinking about the injured area.
They start to walk without watching every step.
They climb some stairs without anticipating fear.
They run a few meters and, when they finish, they realize that they have not been focused on the ankle, the foot, or the knee.
That moment often goes unnoticed.
But for me, it is one of the best indicators of recovery.
Because the body has not only regained physical capacity.
It has regained confidence.
And few things change the way of moving as much as regaining trust in one's own body.
What you can do from today
If you are recovering from an injury, try to observe something more than the pain.
Ask yourself:
Are there movements that I do today with less fear than a month ago?
Are there activities that I used to avoid and now I do again?
Do I think less about the injury while I move?
Sometimes, those changes announce recovery even before all discomfort disappears.
Because healing also means stopping living focused on one part of the body.
🔬 In a sentence
Recovery does not end when a tissue heals. It ends when the nervous system regains trust that it can use it safely.
The most important idea
The persistent pain does not always indicate that the body is still damaged.
Sometimes it reflects that the nervous system continues to use protection strategies learned during a past injury.
That is why complete recovery is not just about repairing tissues.
It also involves rebuilding trust.
Every secure movement, every positive experience, and every step that the brain stops interpreting as a threat are part of the treatment.
Biology does not just heal structures.
It also updates expectations.
And when both come together again, movement regains its naturalness.
A question to reflect on
Think of a significant injury you have overcome.
What came first: the complete disappearance of pain… or the moment when you stopped constantly thinking about that part of your body?
Perhaps the true recovery began the day fear stopped directing your movements.
In the next article…
After exploring the functioning of the foot, pain, learning, child development, footwear, and recovery, a question arises that goes far beyond podiatry.
What do we really mean by taking care of our body?
We live surrounded by products, treatments, and promises that claim to protect our health.
But, what if the best care did not consist of doing more things for the body, but in providing the conditions for it to do what it was designed for?
In the next chapter we will talk about an idea that summarizes the entire philosophy of this book:
Health is not the absence of problems. It is the ability to adapt to them.