PART 1: Breaking Myself Before Building Myself

The Illusion of Being Fit

I’ve been paddling since Scouts, then joined Lowestoft District Canoe Club at age 13. I got into slalom, surfing, white water and some sea kayaking, including a trip from Lowestoft to London, Tower Bridge, when I was 15, with some mates.

I’ve always kept myself reasonably fit and now paddle regularly at Norwich Canoe Club, a racing club. Over the years I’ve enjoyed some success in masters’ events in both sprint and marathon. That’s given me a solid paddling base.

I’ve also had my share of impediments: an unstable lower back disc and heart arrhythmia, for starters.

Britain by Kayak has been an ambition for some years, inspired by my mate Kev Baldwin, who, despite a diagnosis of terminal prostate cancer, biked around Britain in 2024. Kev defied the odds and is still biking, thanks to medical breakthroughs that stabilised his stage 4 cancer.

I needed the space for a trip like this and achieved that by retiring from my role as Director of Sport at Norwich School in August 2025. After 42 years in full-time work, I finally had the time.

I didn’t start seriously preparing until late September—but that felt fine. I thought I was in a strong place.

I’d just come off a long bike trip with my wife, Lisa — four weeks touring through France and northern Spain. Plenty of volume. Plenty of hills.

On paper, I looked “fit”:

Resting HR: 39
VO2 Max: 49

All I needed to do was convert that into kayaking fitness.

Simples.

When It Started to Unravel

I got stuck in.

More paddling. More effort. More pushing on.

But something wasn’t right.

Recovery dropped. Sleep deteriorated. Fatigue crept in.

Through November, I got ill. My back flared badly. At one point I couldn’t get out of a chair at a family gathering. People were openly questioning whether I’d even make the start.

Even Garmin Connect was flagging it.

My HRV dropped from the high 70s to the low 40s—and stayed there for over six weeks.

By mid-December, it was obvious:

Pushing through wasn’t working.

The Reset

I stopped.

That wasn’t easy.

Like most people who enjoy training, my instinct is to do more, not less. But everything was pointing in the same direction.

Rest.

At the same time, I had some very grounded voices around me.

My coaches, Dyson Pendle and Tim Scott, were clear.

But more importantly, so was Lisa.

Listening to Experience

Lisa is a highly experienced MSK physiotherapist with over 35 years in clinical practice, working across both general and sports populations. She’s also a former age-group triathlete with a postgraduate qualification in sports medicine.

More than that, she has a very practical, holistic approach to movement — looking not just at symptoms, but how the whole system is functioning: breathing, posture, symmetry, and load tolerance.

She’s seen it all before.

Overreaching. Fatigue masked as effort. Recurring injury patterns.

And she could see exactly what was happening with me.

The message was simple, and consistent:

This isn’t a fitness problem. It’s a recovery problem.

And underlying that:

If your back goes, you’re not going anywhere.

From Fitness → Durability

That was the turning point.

I realised I’d been preparing as if this was a performance challenge.

It isn’t.

This is about showing up — day after day — and still being able to go again tomorrow.

The goal isn’t peak fitness.

It’s this:

120+ consecutive days of “good enough.”

That requires something very different.

Less chasing.

More restraint.

Less proving.

More listening.

Rebuilding — More Slowly Than I Wanted

Christmas became a natural reset point.

Recovery markers improved. Energy returned. I started again.

But differently.

More steady, low-intensity work
Less emphasis on pushing pace
More strength and movement work
A lot more attention to how I felt — not just what I did

It didn’t always feel like enough.

That was probably a good sign.

Breathwork — A Subtle Shift

In February, I attended an Oxygen Advantage Instructor course in Galway.

Breathwork had always been part of the background through Lisa’s work, but this brought it into sharper focus.

Control of breathing. Tolerance to CO₂. Managing stress responses.

Small changes—but noticeable ones.

Another layer of durability.

Movement — The Ongoing Work

This has probably been the biggest long-term shift.

For most of my adult life, I’ve had recurring issues:

Lower back
Sciatica
Imbalances

Through Lisa’s developmental core work — combined with breathwork — these are gradually being unwound.

Not fixed.

Managed.

At nearly 60, that’s the reality.

Most days now start with 30–40 minutes of core and movement work. It’s not optional.

It’s the price of staying in the game.

Final Thought (Part 1)

This wasn’t the plan.

But it’s the right path.

I’m not trying to be the fittest version of myself.

I’m trying to be the version that still works—
day after day after day.