Why Stretching, Physio, and Meds Didn't Fix My Chronic Pain (And How Strength Did)

I was 38 years old, sitting at my desk, and I couldn't turn my head left or right without pain shooting from my shoulder, up my neck, all the way to the top of my skull. It felt like something was physically blocking my neck from moving.

I'd tried everything. Two years of daily stretching routines I found on social media. 1+ year of regular weekly physiotherapy. Prescribed anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxants that I took just to get through the workday. I even saw a chiropractor. Nothing worked.

I kept thinking: What am I doing wrong? Why isn't this working?

It took me almost three years to realize: I wasn't doing anything wrong. I was solving the wrong problem.

The Early Days, When I Thought It Was Just "Aging"

The pain didn't start suddenly. It crept in slowly, like rust on an old machine.

In my early 30s, I began experiencing recurrent neck and lower back pain. It would come randomly — after sitting for long hours at my desk, during long drive road trips, after awkward sideways reaching (especially in the car), or when I woke up in the morning. The pain usually went away after a few days, so I didn't think much of it. I just chalked it up to "getting older."

Here's the context: I'd been sitting behind a computer for 8+ hours a day since the early 2000s. Zero exercise. The last time I worked out was during PE class in the '90s. My most "active" era was those weekend road trips I started taking about four or five years before Covid hit. But let's be honest — that was still mostly sitting, just in a car instead of at a desk.

As I moved into my mid-30s, the frequency increased. The pain started showing up more often. I thought: Maybe it's my mattress. So I replaced it with an "orthopedic" one. That didn't help. Then I bought a latex mattress. Still nothing.

I was treating the location of the pain — the bed, the chair, the car seat — but I wasn't treating the cause of the pain: my body.

Covid, When Everything Got Worse

When Covid hit, I didn't leave my home for about six months. I worked remotely, so there was no commute, no road trips, no reason to move, food ordered online and delivered right to my door. I became even more sedentary than before.

And then, one day, out of nowhere, my neck and shoulders seized up completely.

Turning my head in any direction — left, right, up, down — was excruciating. The pain radiated from my shoulder, crawled up my neck, and spread all the way to the top of my head. It felt like someone had clamped a vice around my upper spine and was slowly tightening it.

This was different from the "regular" lower back pain or neck pain I was still dealing with. This was debilitating. I couldn't work comfortably. I couldn't drive. I couldn't even look over my shoulder to check my blind spot without wincing. When I bent down to reach something, my neck hurt really bad even though I wasn't moving them or looking down, it's like my neck was unable to hold the weight of my head.

Worse yet, I couldn't even sleep comfortably, as I felt a numbness from my upper neck up to the back of the head when I rest my head on the pillow. Sleeping on my side felt better, but I always got the shoulder pain the morning after.

I was stuck.

The 2 Years of Stretching, No Results

I did what everyone does when they're in pain and desperate: I Googled it.

"Neck pain relief exercises." "Best stretches for upper back stiffness." "How to fix tight shoulders."

I found dozens of YouTube videos, blog posts, and Instagram routines. I started stretching every single day. I stretched my neck, my shoulders, my scapulas, my chest, my lower back. I held each stretch for 30 seconds, just like the videos said.

And you know what? It felt good. For maybe 10-20 minutes — and I'm being generous here. The pain was never truly gone, just "relieved" — like it subsided just a little bit.

I kept thinking: Maybe I'm not stretching enough? Maybe I'm doing it wrong? Maybe I need to hold the stretches longer?

So I stretched more. I tried different routines. I bought a foam roller. My wife bought me a portable chair massager. I stretched before bed, after waking up, and every 1 or 2 hours of sitting.

Two years. Two full years of daily stretching.

And I was still in pain.

Here's what I didn't realize at the time: stretching was treating the symptom (tightness), not the cause (weakness).

That "tightness" I felt in my neck and shoulders? It wasn't the problem. It was my body's response to the problem. My muscles were tightening up because they were trying to compensate for weak, overstretched muscles around my shoulder blades (scapula) caused by years of hunching forward at my desk. My upper back muscles — the ones that should've been pulling my shoulders back and keeping my posture upright — had atrophied after 20+ years of hunching reaching my mouse and keyboard while sitting. So my neck and shoulders were overcompensating, doing a job they weren't designed to do.

The lower back pain I felt during prolonged sitting, driving, and waking up? That was a different issue — weak glutes and core that couldn't support my spine properly. But I didn't understand any of this until after I started strength training and began to feel which muscles were actually working (or not working).

Stretching those tight muscles didn't fix the instability. It just removed my body's emergency brake.

The Doctor Shuffle

While I was still stretching every day, hoping it would eventually work, the pain kept getting worse. After weeks — maybe months — of this, I finally saw a doctor.

The doctor examined me, asked about my symptoms, and prescribed anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxants. The doctor also suggested I see a physiotherapist.

I did. And when that doctor didn't give me the answer I wanted, I saw another one. Then another. I kept changing doctors, hoping for a different diagnosis, hoping someone could pinpoint the cause.

None of them could.

The prescription was always the same: anti-inflammatories, muscle relaxants, physiotherapy and "give it time."

The meds helped — a little. They dulled the pain enough that I could sit at my desk and get through the workday without wanting to scream. But I wasn't better. I was just functional. And only as long as I kept taking the pills.

The moment I stopped, the pain came roaring back.

Medications are a band-aid. They don't fix what's broken — they just hide it. And I was tired of hiding.

The Physio Chapter

Following the doctor's advice, I started physiotherapy. By this point, I was stretching daily, taking anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxants, and seeing a physiotherapist regularly. I was doing everything at once, hoping something would finally work.

My physiotherapist was great. She was knowledgeable, empathetic, and genuinely wanted to help. She gave me stretches (yes, more stretches), manual therapy sessions, and some basic core exercises.

After each session, I'd feel better. For a day. Sometimes two.

Just to be clear, the pain was never gone — it was just relieved temporarily.

So I'd book another session. And another. And another.

I wasn't getting stronger. I was being maintained. I was stuck in a cycle of dependency — I needed regular sessions just to function. If I missed even just a session, the pain would flare up again.

Don't get me wrong: physiotherapy helped me manage the pain. The manual therapy gave me temporary relief. The exercises kept things from getting worse. But I wasn't moving toward being pain-free. I was just treading water.

I also tried chiropractor during this time. Same pattern. Same temporary relief. Same dependency cycle.

Here's the thing: physio and chiropractic care are incredible at treating symptoms. They can help you manage acute pain, improve mobility, and get you through tough phases. But in my case, they weren't addressing the root cause: 20+ years of muscle atrophy from a sedentary lifestyle.

I needed to build strength. Not just manage the symptoms.

The Giving Up Phase (Age 40, Rock Bottom)

After almost two years of doing everything at once — daily stretching, regular physio sessions, anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxants — after trying everything I could think of, I gave up.

I was 40 years old, and I thought: This is just my life now.

I stopped stretching. I stopped taking the meds. I stopped going to physio. Because I was exhausted. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.

I felt defeated.

I couldn't sit through a movie without my neck stiffening up. I couldn't even lift my 4-year-old daughter. Carrying groceries to the car was a challenge on its own. Sleeping in certain positions hurt me more. Waking up in pain instead of rested.

I felt like I was 80 years old. And I was only 40.

That was the worst part — not the pain itself, but the feeling that this was it. That I'd have to live like this forever.

The Turning Point — "Maybe the Gym?"

And then, out of nowhere, I had a thought:

Maybe going to the gym could help?

I don't know where it came from. I had never ever worked out. I wasn't a "fitness person". I didn't even play in any sports other than during my PE classes in the '90s. But I was desperate enough to try anything.

I started researching gym programs and stumbled across something called "compound movements" — exercises like squats, deadlifts, bench presses, overhead presses, and barbell rows. These weren't isolated exercises targeting one muscle at a time. They were movements that trained the whole body.

That appealed to me. I didn't want to spend two hours in the gym trying to remember various movements and jumping around between endless machines. I wanted something efficient, something that would build full-body strength. My goal wasn't bigger arms or a six-pack. I just wanted to stop being in pain.

So I thought: F it. What do I have to lose?

I started with an empty barbell. I watched YouTube videos, read blogs, and studied form breakdowns on social media. Somehow, it didn't occur to me to hire a personal trainer. So I taught myself through YouTube and blogs — making plenty of mistakes along the way. I probably did some exercises wrong at first, but I kept showing up and learning. Carefully. I focused on proper form to avoid injury.

And I started lifting.

The Breakthrough (3 Months → 1 Year → 3 Years)

After a few months of training three times a week, something changed.

The pain and stiffness started to decrease. Not overnight. Not dramatically. But noticeably.

I could turn my head without wincing. I could sit at my desk for hours without my lower back screaming at me. I could wake up in the morning without feeling like I'd been hit by a truck.

Around the one-year mark, the pain and stiffness were mostly gone.

Now (2025) after three years of lifting consistently three to four times a week, I don't have neck pain. I don't have shoulder pain. I don't have upper back stiffness. I don't have lower back pain after sitting, driving for hours or waking up.

And here's the thing: outside of my gym sessions, I'm still mostly sedentary. I still sit behind a computer for 8+ hours a day — and without doing any daily stretching except in the gym, post-lifting. The difference? My body is now strong enough to handle it. And if I could rebuild from that point — someone who gave up on ever feeling normal again — there's hope for others like me too.

The problem was never the sitting.

The problem was that I didn't have the strength to support my body while sitting. Once I built that strength, everything changed.

Why Strength Training Worked, When Nothing Else Did

Here's why stretching, meds, and physio didn't fix me — and why strength training did:

Stretching treats tightness. But tightness is often a symptom, not the cause. My muscles were tight because they were compensating for weakness. Stretching them didn't fix the underlying instability.

Medications mask pain. They reduce inflammation and dull the discomfort, but they don't fix the weakness that's causing the pain in the first place. I was just covering up the problem.

Physiotherapy manages symptoms brilliantly. It helped me get through the acute phases. But in my case, it didn't progressively load my body to build the kind of lasting strength I needed to be pain-free without intervention.

Strength training — specifically compound movements — builds the muscles that support your spine, hips, and shoulders. These are the load-bearing structures that failed after 20+ years of disuse.

Barbell Squats, in particular, were a game-changer for my lower back pain. They trained my glutes, core, lower and upper back — all the muscles that were supposed to support my spine and posture when I'm sitting, standing, walking, and even sleeping. Squats are called the "king of exercises" for a reason. They don't just build your legs — they build the foundation that supports your entire body.

But my stiff neck and shoulder pain from weak, overstretched scapular muscles? That was fixed by movements that strengthened my upper back: barbell rows, overhead press, and deadlifts. These exercises taught my scapular muscles how to work properly again — pulling my shoulders back instead of letting them round forward from years of desk work.

Deadlifts taught my posterior chain how to work together. Overhead presses strengthened my shoulders and upper back. Barbell rows fixed the rounded-shoulder posture I'd developed from decades of desk work.

These movements didn't just treat the symptoms. They fixed the cause.

The Lesson (What I Wish I'd Known Sooner)

My pain wasn't sciatica. It wasn't a herniated disc. It wasn't a structural issue like scoliosis.

It was purely weakness and overstretched muscles due to 20 years of a sedentary lifestyle.

Stretching, meds, and physio all have their place. If you're in acute pain, anti-inflammatories can help you get through the day. If you need manual therapy to relieve a flare-up, physio can be a lifesaver. If you're dealing with muscle imbalances, stretching can provide temporary relief.

But if the root cause is weakness — if your pain comes from muscles that have atrophied from years of disuse — you need to build strength.

You can't stretch your way out of atrophy. You can't medicate your way out of muscle imbalance. You have to rebuild.

What's Next?

In my coming posts, I'll break down the five compound movements that fixed my pain. I'll share how I used them in the gym — and I'll also break down home-based strength exercises to help you build the foundation if you're not ready to hit the gym yet.

If this story resonates with you, I'd love to hear about your journey. What have you tried? What's worked? What hasn't? Drop a comment below or reach out on social media.

You're not broken. You're just weak. And weakness can be fixed.