Jonny suffered a knee injury against Worcester Warriors in the second league match of the 2006-07 season, his ninth injury setback in top-class rugby

As an 18-year-old, professional rugby absorbed all of my energy. I wanted to watch every minute of every game on television and boy could I talk a good game all night if I could find a willing/unwilling listener. With this latest injury, though, I began to see that time away from playing was as big a motivational and preparational tool for the older, battle-scarred version of me. This time round I put my feet up properly.

I was gradually getting a grip on the way forward for me. I was beginning to understand that, if you keep doing what you've always been doing then you'll keep getting what you've always got. What had worked for me as a younger professional was now no longer bringing the same rewards. As a person and a player I had changed a lot - some of it through choice, some of it forced - and now I needed to change a part of my rugby ways to bring them into line with the new me.

The other thing I really hoped to get a handle on was just how a split second of action can change the path of your life for ever. I now realise that in “ignoring” the changes in direction that my life was pointing out to me, in favour of sticking to the path I had carefully mapped out for myself, all I was doing was jumping back on the treadmill. Working hard certainly. But going nowhere. And inevitably, I would end up just repeating what had gone before.

I knew I had to change something inside me fundamentally or I was doomed to never move on. It was around this time that I really began to look at life differently. To enjoy life. Not to be in fear of failure.

Failure isn't really failure if you use the experience that life is offering you positively. Sometimes it actually takes far more courage to let go of something close to you than it does to hang on through all the pain.

I slipped on the No10 jersey some eight weeks later as we prepared to face league leaders Bristol at the beginning of November. It was an excellent game and I think a great deal of wine-fuelled nostalgia in the match sponsor's box led to me being named man of the match. I received the customary bottle of champagne up on stage in front of the fans. It was great to be back, but I gave the champagne to the up-and-coming local band who were playing behind me. I didn't feel much like drinking, although this was the sort of stepping stone I should have been celebrating. My insides felt like they were burning up.

During the game, shortly after half-time, I had caught a high kick and had been cut in half by the Bristol full back. We retained the ball and continued attacking as I crept on to the wing. I was trying not to reveal the pain I was in. It soon passed and the next 30 minutes flew by as I went looking slightly cheekily to get my own back on their No15. Perfectly legally, of course!

After the game, as the adrenalin wore away, I began to feel the repercussions of running around with a bad stomach. I couldn't stand up straight. By the next day I resembled “Old Man” Wilkinson, hobbling around my garden. The next day I just about made it to the physio room and was sent straight for a CT scan.

I was told that I had lacerated my kidney. I didn't even really know where my kidneys were, so I considered this quite an achievement. The impact of the tackle had driven my kidney on to one of my floating ribs at the back and sliced it open. The doctor also rather frighteningly remarked that had it cut a few millimetres deeper, the rib would have punctured the urinary tract, causing some really serious problems. If I had gone to hospital straight after the game then he said he would have kept me in for at least three days.

In one sense, avoiding serious illness was a lucky escape; but it also meant three months away from normal life on the field. I say “normal life on the field”, but the truth was that playing rugby was becoming distinctly abnormal. So much so that I began to wonder if it qualified as my career any more.

Dealing with important organs was a little different to ligaments. I needed my kidney to be working at a high efficiency rate so that I could keep on playing. No exercise whatsoever for four weeks was what they demanded. A complete lifestyle change was what I understood that to mean. When one door closes, another one opens. This time I was ready to go through it, all the way to Thailand, one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.

There, by the pool, staring out over the sea every morning, I relaxed and I smiled. To be fair it was difficult not to. For the first time since the serious neck injury, which seemed to kick off this bizarre run of setbacks, I considered just how fragile my body (and the human body in general) was. It reinforced my growing understanding that our true strength and power must lie inside rather than in the muscles we build.

Without a healthy vehicle though, I would not be able to express mine. I really had to start looking after myself better. It was such a wonderful experience being in Thailand that I even lasted three whole weeks before stupidly beginning running in the pool. My excuse is that I know my own body and it needed to work. The truth - I obviously hadn't quite tamed the obsessive beast within me.