Professional and elite athletes in contact sports described using cannabis for pain, sleep, recovery, anxiety, and other reasons while often relying on teammates, online research, and trial and error instead of trusted medical guidance. Even as sports leagues relax their policies, fear of judgment, punishment, and career consequences continues to keep cannabis use largely out of official conversations in locker rooms and clinical settings.
Major North American sports leagues have been relaxing their cannabis policies for years. Some have removed the plant from their lists of prohibited substances, while others have reduced penalties or modified their testing systems. However, regulatory changes haven’t always been accompanied by a cultural shift.
For many athletes, discussing cannabis with doctors, coaches, or team officials can still mean being judged, losing opportunities, or falling under suspicion. But many athletes have something in common: they use cannabis for pain, sleep, recovery, or mental health, often without clear guidance on dosage, risks, interactions, or product quality.
In this scenario, athletes often rely on teammates, internet searches, and personal experimentation. Yes, policies are less strict than a decade ago, but cannabis remains a difficult topic to address in locker rooms and sports clinics.
That gap forms the basis of a new study partially funded by the NFL–NFLPA Joint Pain Management Committee. Its conclusion is not that leagues should recommend cannabis, but rather that continuing to address it solely through punishment and stigma leaves athletes making important decisions with incomplete information.
Athletes and Weed: What Happens Behind the Rules
The study, published on July 7, 2026, in the scientific journal Sports Health, was conducted by researchers from the University of Saskatchewan and the University of Regina in Canada, as reported by Marijuana Moment. According to its authors, it is the first qualitative study to focus specifically on professional and elite athletes in contact sports and their experiences with and views on cannabinoid use.
This was a descriptive qualitative study, classified as Level 4 evidence. It was not a clinical trial: the researchers did not administer cannabis, compare products, or measure performance, pain, sleep, or recovery.

Instead, they conducted ten semi-structured Zoom interviews lasting between 30 and 45 minutes. Participants included current and retired athletes, aged 19 to 48, with experience in the NFL, NBA, NHL, American Hockey League, NCAA, and U Sports. Eight were men and two were women, all residing in the United States or Canada, with an average of 5.1 years of athletic experience.
The interviews were recorded with consent, transcribed, manually reviewed, and anonymized. The researchers then used a six-step thematic analysis process to detect recurring patterns.
Five major themes emerged from the analysis: athletes use cannabis; they have little access to reliable education; they fear being judged or punished; they distrust some medical personnel; and they must navigate contradictory laws, regulations, and institutional responses.
Participants described using cannabis for pain management, relaxation, sleep, recovery, mental health, and perceived neuroprotective benefits. Some also said they preferred it to alcohol in social situations. One participant said that weed allowed them to stop focusing on how much their neck hurt. Another stated that they slept better after using it at night than after taking Tylenol with codeine. Participants also described using it during concussion recovery and to manage anxiety or competitive stress.
It’s important to note that the study is based on personal experiences rather than clinical evidence. That is largely the point of the study: to understand how these athletes perceive and make sense of cannabis, rather than to determine whether it is more or less effective than other medications. That was not the study’s purpose.
Pain, Sleep, and a Culture of Silence
Patterns of use varied considerably. Some participants avoided weed during the season; others used it after training or before bed. They mentioned oils, tinctures, edibles, topical products, and inhaled cannabis. Several said they adjusted the dose, timing, and method of consumption to try to avoid negative effects on their performance.
Even so, much of that learning process came through trial and error. Athletes relied on teammates, family, the internet, or their own research because education from teams and sports organizations was scarce.
When it did exist, it tended to focus on prohibitions and negative consequences. It rarely explained the differences between THC and CBD, the potential risks of each product, the routes of administration, or the scientific rationale behind the rules. Some participants said their doctors, coaches, and trainers lacked the practical resources needed to answer their questions.
The problem was compounded by a lack of trust. Several athletes feared that asking a medical question would be interpreted as a confession and that the information could be passed on to coaches or team executives who could affect their contracts or playing time. As a result, some preferred to consult outside professionals with no ties to the team.
The authors described a “don’t ask, don’t tell” culture: weed use might be known to teammates and support staff, but it remained outside of official conversations as long as it didn’t visibly impair performance.

The double standard around alcohol also came up repeatedly. Interviewees questioned why drinking was normalized within many teams while using marijuana could lead to testing, sanctions, or reputational damage. According to the researchers, this contradiction erodes trust and makes institutional policies less credible.
In response, the authors call for targeted education for athletes and sports medicine professionals, more consistent policies across leagues, confidential settings where athletes can seek advice, and further research into well-being, performance, and long-term effects. They also call for reducing stigma, not to dismiss potential harms, but to allow those harms to be discussed without fear.
Nevertheless, the study has clear limitations. Ten interviews do not represent all athletes, and voluntary participation may have attracted individuals more open to discussing cannabis. It also cannot establish how many athletes use cannabis, determine cause-and-effect relationships, or measure objective outcomes related to pain, recovery, or performance.
The study’s relevance lies in highlighting a gap. Since 2022, the NFL and its players’ union have funded research on cannabinoids, pain, concussions, and potential alternatives to opioids. But funding research or changing a list of banned substances does not automatically change what happens in locker rooms.
Athletes are already using weed, whether the world likes it or not. The question the study raises is whether they will continue to do so in silence, guided by rumors and fear, or move forward with reliable information that could reduce risks and better protect their health.
Cover photo created with AI.


