PHIL VICKERY has swapped mud-stained kits for tan-dyed trunks having left the rugby world for a bodybuilding adventure.
This week, 16 years ago, the Rugby World Cup winner announced his retirement from the sport he had known for his entire life.
It was a tough call for Vickery, who was 34 at the time, having been plagued with injuries before another forced him to retire on medical advice.
And now, the 50-year-old former England captain is battling a whole new challenge as he lives with the diagnosis of probable chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a brain condition associated with repeated head impacts.
But to any member of the audience of Hull’s bodybuilding competition, Vickery was just another 99kg super tan muscleman.
He revealed to Sky Sports that he’s “not really a bodybuilder”, pointing to his “long levers” and “massive rib cage”.
But it is not Vickery’s dream to be the best of the best, he just wants to be the best version of himself.
He told BBC Sport: “I know I will never be a top bodybuilder. But it doesn’t stop me, it doesn’t stop me having a go and being the best version of me that I can be.”
It was not a simple path that Vickery walked to get to the stage – he needed to find a reason to train after retirement first.
Vickery, who was affectionately nicknamed ‘The Raging Bull’, played in all seven matches of England’s victorious 2003 World Cup campaign before captaining his country to the final four years later.
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But when his playing career ended, the purpose behind years of hard work faded.
He said: “I think the one thing I really struggled with when I finished playing is I trained to play and I couldn’t find that reason to train afterwards.”
Speaking to Sky Sports, Vickery added: “It [his transformation] began six or seven years ago when I was struggling.
“I was in just a really bad spot. I just looked at myself, and I thought, well, look at the state of you. Do something about it.”
Walking into Gloucester’s Wolfpack gym, Vickery found the last piece of the puzzle.
Initially, it was a hobby to get that bit fitter, but it eventually became a routine with steady preparation for a bodybuilding competition.
But it was not love at first sight.
When his coach first suggested the idea, he said: “Mate, no way. There’s no way I am getting on a stage.”
Vickery, with 73 England caps and five Lions Test caps, said: “What it probably did for me is ignite that ex-pro rugby player in me of detail, discipline, turning up when it’s dark and dingy and cold, competing, and we went from there.
“It reminded me of being in the changing room before the big game, your nerves – are you going to be sick, you’re happy, you’re not happy, I can do this, this is raw.
“I’m questioning myself, should I even be there? But then you go, actually, do you know what? I’ve done the work. I’ve done the graft.”
But presenting his physique brought challenges of its own.
He said: “Then there’s the posing, left shoulder down, right arm across. Keep that tight. I’ve lost my glutes, my hamstring’s not engaged…
“The thing is, you want to show off all that work and my glutes are the worst, and they were so much better than it showed on pictures.
“[On stage] you look the best version of you that you could look, but you feel the worst. It’s kind of a silly sport but it’s amazing what the human body can do.
“Age, for me, doesn’t bother me at all. I still think I’m 27. My body tells me different.”
But the physical challenges are only skin deep, the most integral purpose has been wellbeing.
Vickery, who publicly discussed his probable CTE diagnosis in 2024, has spoken about difficulties remembering ordinary life things.
CTE can currently only be definitively diagnosed after death. There is no cure, although treatment and support can help manage symptoms.
He said: “I take comfort from knowing that I’m doing everything I can to be the best I can and to go as long as possible, and to try and be that positive aspect of it.”
Vickery is among the former players involved in legal action against rugby’s governing bodies over brain injuries.
The players allege the authorities failed to protect them from the consequences of repeated head impacts – though the accused deny liability.
For Vickery, the case is about securing support for the care he may need in the future.
He told Sky Sports: “People talk about money. It doesn’t change my diagnosis. What it does do if we were to win, it allows you then to be able to plan for people to be able to look after me.”
And despite the place where Vickery has found himself, his love of rugby remains.
He said: “People ask me, would you do it all again? Yeah, 100 per cent I would.
“My only gripe is – look after me when I get too poorly. I don’t think that’s unreasonable.”
But for the time being, Vickery’s routine is three or four weights sessions a week, with daily walks and a protein-rich diet.
But he prioritises testing himself physically and mentally – especially putting himself in scenarios outside his comfort zone.
He told BBC Sport: “It’s repurposing the skills that you’ve learned. You’ve just got to use them in a different way.
“I don’t think everyone should go bodybuilding. My message is trying to be positive. Get out, do something, make a plan.”
