When you lose everything you thought defined you, you have two choices: accept it, or rewrite the script.
I chose the rewrite.
Running became my therapy. My rebellion. My proof that the story wasn’t over. I trained for and completed a half marathon less than 2 years later, then pushed further into the GC30 less than 3 years later — a brutal 30km test of grit, patience, and stubbornness.
Every kilometre was a reminder that my body wasn’t broken — it was adapting.
Then came the next chapter: triathlons. Swimming. Cycling. Running. Three disciplines, one mission — to see how far I could push a body that had once been written off.
Training for triathlons didn’t just rebuild my fitness. It rebuilt my identity. It reminded me that I wasn’t defined by what happened to me, but by what I chose to do next.
And I chose to chase something big.