Fitness and Health.

So time for some athlete musings, another blog to slide into the “chasing the unicorn chronicles”.

If you aren’t quite sure what I’m talking about, click the link here to go back to the first chronicle. Basically it’s in addition (a side note) to my weekly blogs, an athlete’s thoughts and perspective on life.

Fitness and health.

Two simple words that mean such different things to many people and provoke different ideas. The definitions themselves change from person to person.

It’s Christmas break and I’m writing this as I fly up to Alaska to spend it with my girlfriend. Across the aisle of the plane is a lady who is able to rest her chin on top of her belly/ bust (due to the enormity of her bulk) and nap. I’ll admit I am a little jealous (as I can’t find a comfortable position to sleep in). I wonder what her definitions are compared to mine.

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A philosophical blog for a change.

I started writing about chasing the unicorn a few years ago. A simple metaphor of trying to ski the perfect race, catching the uncatchable beast. Mainly due to a terrible race in Australia where I managed to break the same pole twice and crashed in a separate incident. It led me to start writing the odd philosophical blog about life on the road and as an athlete. It’s been a while since I wrote in the chronicles but seeing as the season is drawing to a close and I have been reflecting on the season and trying to work out if it was a successes, a failure or somewhere in-between, I thought it might be a good chance to jot down a few notes into a blog. Not to mention hopefully straighten some of my own thoughts because whether a season was a success or a failure is not clear-cut and a simple “yes or no” answer is clearly not sufficient.

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Setting up shop.

So with any holiday you generally think it’s simple, choose a destination and work out a method of transport, find a place to crash, get some time off work, then hey presto you’re there! You may suffer a bout of travel sickness somewhere in all that commotion, but all in all, you’re happy rummaging through the drawers of your new hotel room.  If you think traveling overseas for six months of racing and training is like that, then you either have an amazing manager/mum or arrive every year in Europe, while your skis rock up in Cuba in pieces and your insurance only covers hang-gliding not winter sports…

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