The day things shifted alittle
This blog started for one reason, and I’ve kept it going for an entirely different one. It began mostly as an outlet for storytelling during the 2021 La Solitaire. I’d rather write a blog than post on Instagram because, deep down, I’m like a grandad, with hobbies including writing and hiking. I’ve kept it going because, well, I found it rather therapeutic to write; to process my emotions and, in some cases, figure out the exact moment I screwed up races.
This will exist more for the latter reason.
Please note: This blog has very little to do with actual sailing.
One day in March
I’m going to try to be positive and not title this “the day 2026 went to S***t.” I’m also going to try to write this in a way that isn’t just a plea for sympathy.
I’ll be honest. I don’t think running really improves your sailing; there are plenty of good sailors who are terrible runners, and vice versa. I enjoy it, it makes me feel good, and it allows me to eat chocolate guilt-free.
I try to run 40 km each week. It’s not much, a mix of easy runs, intervals, and long runs. This winter, I was trying to run a 5k under 20 minutes. A fun side quest in between sailing and work.
Then it stopped being fun.
It was supposed to be a chilled, easy early morning run. And it was. For about 7 km.
Until I turned off a river path onto a roadside pavement, where I felt a bump, got thrown into the air, and landed in a bush.
I saw a navy-blue car drive back onto the road and away.
This leads me to a piece of life advice: if you do find yourself hit by a car, in the immediate aftermath you will feel absolutely fine. Like, actually normal. You may feel so normal that you think you’re fine and keep running for 2 km after. Please, please don’t get back up; sit, relax, and wait. Because things will get painful.
What’s next?
The thing that’s messing with my head is not really the day-to-day pain or the injuries themselves, although they’re frustrating. It’s more that I feel like some semblance of me is slipping away. I’ve always been referred to as the guy who does crazy sports, who enjoys long-ass sailing races, hiking up mountains, and going running. Now I’m stuck inside 99% of the time; the pain of moving makes it not really worth the hassle to leave the house most days. I feel like the thing that makes me me is somehow gone, and now I’m wondering who the hell I am without crazy endurance sports.
It’s not my first injury; if I’m honest, I hope it will be my last. It’s weird—I feel, in some ways, grateful for the torn tendon that stopped my Laser sailing, as the time away on land allowed me to meet most of my closest friends. I’m, in a weird way, thankful for the injury in 2023 that made finishing La Solitaire so incredibly painful, as it gave me time to slow down, reflect, and work out how I could improve with the means available to me. That ultimately led to more podiums in sailing after the injury than before it. So, who knows how I’ll look back on this. Maybe I’ll be grateful for that stupid navy-blue car for some reason that isn’t yet clear. At the very least, thanks to that car and the person driving it I’ll get to read a few more books.
I’m going to do my best to make sure that the next time I put anything on this blog, it will be about actual sailing.
If you’ve managed to read all this, thank you. I hope it was in some way an interesting. Selfishly, I wrote it as a way to cheer myself up rather than to create some incredible piece of sailing writing.
Oh yeah, one more thing
I still do dream that, in the not-too-distant future, this blog reverts back to its original purpose. A storytelling outlet for a solo ocean racing campaign.