My Story: Julia Trollip, JT Biokinetics

I didn’t grow up expecting to run a clinic or build a business. I grew up outside—South African farm roads, tennis courts, and long days on horseback. I played first and second team tennis, competed in endurance riding including the three-day Fauresmith National Champs, and ran recreationally. I wasn’t a top athlete, but I loved movement and how it shaped my sense of self.

The first spark

In school I spent a week work-shadowing a team of biokineticists at a well-established clinic. It changed everything. I loved the mix of movement, science, and genuine human connection. I could clearly see myself in that role, combining my interest in health with helping people. But life took a different route first.

Seven UK years that shaped me

I moved to the UK on an ancestral visa for what was meant to be a gap year. It became seven.

I worked in horse racing yards in Newmarket for well-known trainers—long physical days, early mornings with the horses, leading up at races, liaising with vets, and being outdoors. But a riding accident at 18 that never fully resolved began to flare up. The discomfort grew into constant pain, eventually forcing me to leave the physical work I loved.

I spent a short time working in London (ironically as a receptionist in a large physio practice) before returning to the countryside to work with endurance horses again. For a brief moment I thought I’d found my place, riding daily and doing physical work—but the pain returned quickly and pushed me back into an office job.

I tried everything to get help. I saw someone different every week, retold my story over and over, received conflicting advice, random sheets of exercises, and no continuity. Eventually I was told I had arthritis, should avoid activity, and would likely never exercise properly again. At 22, that felt like a life sentence.

Swimming seemed like my only option, and I hated it. I could only swim breaststroke, which was too painful, so I taught myself front crawl out of sheer determination to keep moving. Nothing changed. Whenever I built up running slowly, I broke down again.

After two years I was bored in the office and took a job running household operations on a large country estate—completely outside my comfort zone. Those years taught me resilience, adaptability, and how to work with people from every background. But I missed movement deeply. Every attempt to build back my running ended with the same cycle: brief progress, then pain.

The turning point

At 26 I returned to South Africa to study. The transition was hard—new lifestyle, new academic culture, and a business degree that didn’t feel right. My pain was still there.

That’s when I met the biokineticist who changed everything. She helped me get out of pain, rebuild strength, and return to running, lifting, and moving without fear for the first time since my accident. I fell back in love with exercise, began teaching indoor cycling, trained hard, and rebuilt my confidence. She gave me the clarity to return to my original career desire.

Changing direction back to biokinetics

After completing my BCom in Economics & Management and my Honours in Management, I was about to start a Master’s in Management when I realised I was on the wrong path. I switched into Human Movement and Ergonomics, completing three years in two while still attempting (and then wisely dropping) the Master’s in the first year.

During this time I exercised more than ever. I became the Manager of the indoor cycling section at our gym—teaching classes, coordinating instructors, and being involved in community outreach, including weekly exercise sessions with inmates at a mental health institution. It was one of the highlights of my week.

I then completed my postgraduate Honours in Biokinetics. This year gave me deep practical exposure: national and county athletes, emergency services students, university sports teams, and the general population from children to older adults. After that came the internship year. I originally wanted a high-performance centre but stayed where I was—and I’m grateful I did. Working with older adults and complex conditions taught me far more about the human body, behaviour, and adaptation than I could have learned in a high-performance-only environment.

We worked with everything from cerebral palsy to Parkinson’s to cardiac conditions, alongside sport-related injuries. I was awarded “Top Practical Intern,” largely because the years before studying had taught me to relate to anyone, build rapport fast, and communicate clearly.

I stayed highly active during these years—rowing at 5am five days a week, joining a local CrossFit box run by Dave Levey (Fittest Man in Africa back then), and maintaining heavy training loads. It cemented my belief that movement really is medicine.

Returning to the UK—and losing my movement again

After my internship and a year in private practice in the Western Cape, I moved back to the UK to work at a satellite clinic. Long hours and chronic stress meant my own health declined. I stopped exercising consistently and felt the impact.

To force myself to reclaim my health, I signed up for something big: London–Paris in a day—160 miles with our local YMCA. The training changed everything. I completed the event, and a few weeks later, six months after first taking up cycling, rode Chase the Sun (205 miles coast-to-coast in daylight hours). It reminded me who I was: someone resilient, capable, and deeply connected to movement.

Building JT Biokinetics

In 2018 I opened JT Biokinetics. Since then, I’ve supported clients across Surrey, London, Kent, and further afield—helping people understand their bodies, recover from injury, and return to meaningful activity.

Alongside clinic work, I’ve supported high-performance rugby environments (Autumn Internationals, Six Nations, and representative fixtures) and worked as part of the soigneur and support teams for multi-day endurance cycling events. These roles blend movement knowledge, recovery skills, and load management across consecutive days.

Why I work the way I do

Every chapter—pain, misdiagnosis, physical work, study, overwork, endurance, resilience—shapes how I practise today.

I listen to the whole story because no injury exists in isolation. I don’t chase symptoms; I look at patterns. I don’t rush progress; I build foundations. I help people move with confidence because I know what it feels like to lose it. I endeavour to instil hope because I believe there is always hope and our bodies are designed to heal.

This is ongoing. I’m still learning, still growing, and still committed to helping people make sense of their bodies.