Miles with Friends

In the middle of the cappuccino colored sands of the Atacama Desert, with miles of dusty rock strewn ground stretching to the horizon, I sat beside the trail. I was exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally. I had given everything I had to my effort to run across 7 Deserts on 7 Continents in just 7 Weeks. It was a ridiculously ambitious goal for someone who was a self-confessed non-runner, and the reality of the whole thing was setting in with a vengeance.

Plant Power

Plant Power

I’m a bad eater. The docs think one of the (many) reasons I had a stress fracture last Christmas was because I had this thing called “REDs” which is Relative Energy Deficiency Syndrome in Sport. It’s a fancy term for something that seems to me to be pretty simple. I didn’t eat enough. Not that I didn’t eat the right things – I was religious about getting in my whole grains, veggies, beans and other protein sources. The problem was that I wasn’t eating enough.

I Want. I Can. I Will.

I Want. I Can. I Will.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to see my new massage therapist. He’s a man called Garry Miridis and, amongst other things, he used to look after Cathy Freeman. Yes – the Cathy Freeman.

It took me a long time to get up the courage to see him. He is, after all, a complete guru in the athletic world, with a reputation for putting athletes back together. I’m learning that the world of professional or elite sport involves lots of walking a fine tightrope between health and injury.