Moving Forward by Moving Forward

Well, who knew that a fractured sternum would finally make me focus on what I need?

More specifically: if I can’t do this, I need help to get it done.

With that in mind, I need to move forward—by moving forward.

Admittedly, I’m high on THC and drunk on profound pain medication, so this clarity may be chemically enhanced.

But I find it interesting how much clarity arrives when you’re faced with extreme pain.

High, drunk—or both—the message seems perfectly clear.

Hobbled

How appropriate. I’m feeling completely hobbled, and tomorrow is the horses’ birthday.

Oh yeah—I grew up with horses.

The pain is still through the roof, and I know that if I were famous, someone would be waiting on me “hand and foot.”

Instead, I have real people with their own real problems.

Maybe I could give them some cash to care more—or just go back to bed for more poor-quality sleep in a seated position.

Damn. At the ten-day point, the pain is really getting to me. 😬

Wait—How Old Are You?

An interaction with the paramedics today:

“Really? That’s your age?”

“You look fantastic—and you have a rocking body!”

Then came the questions:

“What do you do? Tell us exactly what you do.”

And with that, the realisation:

OMG. I’m onto something here.

A very positive twist to the day—and certainly better than yesterday.

The Green Whistle

Just when I thought the worst was over, I decided that more sleep might help.

I woke and went to get up, but the pain gripped me like a would-be murderer. That was when I decided it was time to seek medical assistance.

An ambulance ride, a green whistle and compliments on my youthful, athletic appearance almost made the pain disappear—for one very brief window of reprieve.

And now I’ve joined the throng of the emergency department masses, wondering whether I should have persevered a little longer.

Apparently, an X-ray will reveal all, and this is the quickest way to get it done. Anyway, what else would I be doing? 🤔

I’m expecting answers and painkillers—or what I refer to as “the good gear”—followed, at last, by sleep.

Eight days into this diatribe of an experience, I’m anticipating relief sometime soon.

Very soon. 🙏

The Horizon Is There.

And yes—at last, I woke this morning knowing I had slept. My watch detected it too.

Yes, the horizon is there.

Then, almost like a reflex, I did squats at the sink while my machine made my coffee. No thinking. No assessing.

One habit stack is back.

Now I’m excited. Yes, there is a tomorrow again—and everything feels better.

Even the Darkest Movie Has an Ending

Have you ever watched a movie that was so dark, relentlessly dull and completely plotless—with a soundtrack that perfectly matched the drudgery?

That’s what day four has felt like.

It’s so far removed from the excitement I feel about the project I’m building the Greatest Athletes.

There has to be a reason for this delay. I’m working through ways to make every day count, but right now, all I want is a packet of M&M’s, a thickshake and a piece of chocolate cake.

Having lost three kilograms since last Tuesday, part of me thinks I can risk indulging. But will it really help me feel better tomorrow?

At least I’m beginning to think more rationally. I’m going to drink some water, find a frozen meal in the freezer and—who knows?—perhaps there’s some cake hiding in there too.

Like every terrible movie, this one has to end eventually. When it does, things will begin to feel better. The gym isn’t going anywhere. The pool will still be there when this is over, and there will be plenty of time for cardio.

Today doesn’t have to be perfect. It simply has to end.

Tomorrow, I’ll try again.

Not Yet.

And yes, I’m waiting.

I want time to fast-forward until I’m somewhere else, feeling something else.

According to research, time is what we write about more than anything—even love. Right now, time is all I can think about.

Well, time—and a bagel with truly great coffee.

As for my plan? I’m standing still while time moves around me, quietly telling myself, not yet, as I try to understand the meaning of this wretched delay.

Not yet doesn’t mean never.

And tomorrow?

Tomorrow has to be better.

It’s Tomorrow Again. And It’s Not Better Yet

The night seemed endless.

At two in the morning, if I’d known where my phone was, I would have called an ambulance. The problem was that I barely knew where I was. I only knew that something was terribly wrong.

Somehow, I still had the presence of mind to realise that I wasn’t dressed for a hospital stay—and that I had no idea where my small suitcase was, let alone how I might pack it.

There’s no food in the house, and I can’t make it to the door to collect an Uber Eats delivery. Apparently, I’m going to lose a little more weight, although this is certainly not the diet plan I would recommend.

At least the fever has broken.

I desperately need a shower, but who can help me? Lying down hurts. Sitting up hurts. I’m hungry, exhausted and in serious need of coffee.

Dammit. Another thing to come back from.

During the darkest hours, I felt so unwell that the only reason I knew it wasn’t the end was that I didn’t see my son’s face.

The space in my chest where my heart lives hurts the most. I keep retracing my steps, trying to understand how I arrived at this particular point. 💔

It’s tomorrow again—and it’s not better yet.

Walk this way!!

“It’s time to walk my walk” is something I say a lot.

It turns out that when I took a dive last week, I injured myself rather more dramatically than I realised. So dramatically, in fact, that it now hurts to breathe, stand—and do pretty much everything.

I’m finally back on my training ground, but everything is on hold while I have an X-ray and see the chiropractor this morning.

Naturally, I’d like it fixed immediately. Unrealistic? Perhaps. But I’ve done impossible things before, so there’s no reason to believe today will be any different.

And now I’m in the waiting place, pondering how I let this happen.

There is also the possibility that my broken sternum came courtesy of the impossibly gracious, devastatingly handsome, mohawked demon who picked me up off the floor—and then provided champagne.

Frankly, if one must acquire a dramatic injury, there are worse ways to do it.

Watch me. I’ll do much better next time.

Kindness Finds You

Yesterday was hard.

Really hard.

I had to use every ounce of strength I had just to make it through.

On my final flight, one of the flight attendants noticed I was struggling.

Without saying much, she quietly handed me a serviette. Wrapped inside was a note of encouragement... and my favourite chocolate.

Someone saw me.

And yes... I cried again.

When we finally landed in paradise, our plane seemed to park at the furthest possible point from baggage collection, comfort, and home.

By then I'd reached my limit.

Airport staff organised a wheelchair, and because they were short-staffed, the pilot personally pushed me into the terminal.

Another unexpected act of kindness.

Outside, I thought I was on the home stretch.

Instead, I was greeted by what felt like 3,000 people all waiting for a taxi.

"What on earth...?"

A home game. And everyone was headed to the stadium.

Being the people-pleaser that I am, I patiently waited my turn and struck up a conversation with another footy fan.

When a taxi finally arrived, I honestly thought he'd offer to share it. I was only five minutes away and already had $100 scrunched up in my hand to pay him.

Instead...

He jumped in, shut the door, and simply said,
“Good Luck”

Then the next taxi arrived...

...and someone else took that one too. To which to glared at him and calmly, through gritted teeth reminded him to

“Enjoy the Game”

I stood there, exhausted, frustrated, and wondering why I'm always so convinced I can do everything myself.

Then I heard a familiar voice.

It was the same flight attendant.

"Do you need a lift?"

As it turns out...

She lives three doors down from me.

What are the chances?

At last, I was home.

Later that evening, I opened my betting app.

The home team—the same team all those taxi-stealers had been cheering for—were paying surprisingly well.

So I put a decent bet on them.

And…. I won.

Maybe it was karma.

Maybe it was just luck.

Either way, between that unexpected win and the incredible kindness shown by the people on that flight, my faith in humanity was completely restored. 🙏

And yes...

It's tomorrow now.

And I'm doing much better.

Actually I think it's broken.

Yeah sounds melodramatic! Turns out the night last week when I shouldn't have been drinking i was drinking - tiled bathroom and wet floors and I do recall hitting the ground and an impossibly handsome man scraping me off the floor.

Waking the next morning with a slight pain and now it's telling me this is feeling a bit serious - breathing hurts 🙃

Which means getting back into full on training tomorrow has to be delayed and addressed

Ok back to the drawing board and work out what I can do next - rest now - go to work (oh yeah I'm a stand up comedian sometimes)

Tomorrow I'll get right onto my next move

I can do this, I am doing this and everything will be better tomorrow!

Paradise Can Wait

I don't usually swear... But what in the actual Fuck

But today has been rough. Really rough.

Right now, I honestly feel like bursting into tears.

It's difficult to explain, and I could probably use a hundred adjectives to describe today, but I'll keep it simple.

Today has been one enormous challenge.

And I'm still not home.

I've made myself a promise though.

The moment I walk through my front door, I'm opening a cold beer, ordering something delicious for dinner, and soaking up the ambience of my own little paradise.

Then I'll sleep.

Really sleep.

Because that's what today has earned.

And as always...

Tomorrow will be better.

No...

Tomorrow won't just be better.

Tomorrow will be amazing. 👏

Cardio on Purpose

I've made it through airport security.

Still no sign of coffee...

But there is about another two kilometres of walking before I even reach the gate.

Then there's even more walking across the tarmac.

Then a two-hour stopover...

...followed by another couple of kilometres.

Who designed airports anyway?

By the time I finally get home, I'll have done enough cardio for one day.

The difference is...

At home, I do cardio on purpose. 😄

And tomorrow?

Tomorrow will be better.

Much better.

Never Tick the Box

Airports can be testing places.

Patience wears thin, tempers flare, and if you've been awake since 4:00 a.m. and covered kilometres before you've even reached the gate, it's easy to understand why.

I've always prided myself on my ability to just keep going, no matter how hard things get.

This trip has been especially challenging.

Looking back, I know there are people who would have ticked the box for airport wheelchair assistance.

Not me.

I couldn't do it.

That's not who I am.

For better or worse, I'm stubborn. I want to know what I can still do under my own steam, even when it hurts.

But this time this trip has been especially difficult and if I knew how this time I would have ticked the box and those that do are known as an SSR. (Special Service Request … Yes, we have an acronym)

But I'm almost there.

And I'm ridiculously proud of one very ordinary thing...

I've got a fantastic step count today. 😄

Tomorrow I'll be home.

And, as always...

I'll do even better.

First Light

Don't you love it when you've been awake for what feels like the entire night...

...and then you finally catch that first glimpse of daylight?

Hallelujah!

Now I can get up.

Is it panic?

Is it excitement?

Honestly... it's a big bit of both.

I'm homeward bound, and the thought that in just 12 hours I'll be regretting wearing all these layers has me absolutely giddy with excitement. 😁

Home is calling.

And today, that's more than enough to put a smile on my face.

Because here's what I've realised...

I don't have to do better tomorrow.

I'm doing well today.

If there's nothing else you can do, just keep going.

If everything feels like it's getting harder keep doing until it's not harder anymore.

Keep going.
Push through and make every effort count

Keep doing that and you'll always do better next time.

Layers, Lattes & Life Lessons ⭐

This time tomorrow I'll be...

"Leaving on a jet plane... don't know if I'll be back again..." 🎶

As exciting as that sounds, I've learned something over the past 11 days.

No amount of pushing through or being as indomitable as you'd like will always work.

Sometimes your body has the final say.

And if, after 11 days, your body is still telling you, "Don't do that," it's probably time to stop arguing with it.

Instead, remember the saying:

"If it stops you, it's asking you to look at it."

That's not giving up.

That's paying attention.

So, for now, coffee and layers are my best friends.

Tomorrow... the adventure continues.

The Rhythm of Recovery

The cycle goes up... and then it comes back down.

As I continue navigating hopes, dreams, and the constant reminder to "don't get ahead of yourself," I'm learning to accept that this is simply part of the journey.

After a couple of days of feeling like my awesome self, Day 3 is usually when I pay the price.

That relentless desire to keep sleeping finally wins, and suddenly an early morning becomes the crack of 7:00 a.m.(Seriously... not a great look!)

The ambitious plans I made while I was full of energy suddenly need a serious review, and I'm reminded to focus on what really matters.

With just two sleeps until I'm homeward bound to my tropical paradise, I think today is a day for simply treading water until I start feeling like myself again.

MS might have other ideas...

But if I'm being completely honest?

Diseases aside I just want to eat pizza and drink coffee all day today 🍕☕

And my now famous sign off

I promise I'll do much better next time ️ 

The Road Not Taken

Yes... I'm still southward in what feels like Antarctica.

Today I found myself at the pub in the tiny country town where I spent my teenage years.

Talk about ghosts of boyfriends past.

There they all were.

As I looked around, I was struck by how much time had passed. They looked older, life had clearly left its mark, and I couldn't help but wonder at the different paths we'd all taken.

As they gathered around, one by one, keen to catch up, I found myself asking a quiet question:

When did they stop chasing their dreams?

One of them smiled and asked,

"So... are you going to the 2032 Olympics?"

I laughed.

"Oh yes... that's still the plan. I'm impressed you remembered."

It's a dream I've carried for many years.

And now, more than ever, I'm determined to see just how far it can take me.

Because everyone deserves their own "One Moment in Time." 🎶

It's been a huge day.

I'm tired now.

But my dream is still very much awake. 😴

Six Reps

It's Day 9, and I really need to get back to some cardio. I need to do it now.

Okay... time to rethink my starting point. Nine days off has diminished my fitness, and I'm back at the beginning... again.

So I have to remind myself where to start... again.

"Start at the very beginning, it's a very good place to start..." 🎵

See? Singing is good too. 😂

When we learned to walk, we started by crawling. So get on the floor and crawl!

Sounds silly?

It isn't.

It's simply a means to an end.

Then get yourself back up off the floor... and do it again. Ten times.

Done.

Next: deadlifts... or at least the beginning of a deadlift.

Lean forward as if you're picking up a dumbbell, then return to standing.

Six reps.

Yes, six is today's starting point.

Repeat that three times.

(And yes, there isn't actually a dumbbell today!)

Then I'm going to do the whole thing another two times before today is over.

There really is magic in numbers. Once you accumulate enough of them, things start getting easier. And yes... sometimes that magic even becomes measurable.

Just so you know, this is how quickly fitness can disappear... and also how quickly it can come back.

Remember:

"You're never too old or too young, and it's never too early or too late."

And, more importantly...

"Once an athlete, always an athlete."

Let's do it.