The Tor 330 - 2025

In my coaching, I often talk about the journey like a cherry cake. Not just any cake, a massive, rich, gooey cherry cake, bursting with flavour. It’s dense, layered with dried fruits, unexpected textures, sticky sweetness, and warm spices, every bite different from the last.

And right in the center, sitting confidently on top: a single glazed cherry.

It’s shiny, it’s small, it’s simple but it stands out. Everyone sees it. Everyone wants it.

And here’s the thing: you don’t get to eat the cherry first.
You have to eat the entire cake first.
And even then, even if you make it all the way through, there’s no guarantee that cherry will be there for you. Because you’re not eating this cake alone.

This isn’t a quiet afternoon tea.
It’s a race.

You’re elbow to elbow with others, all hungry for the cherry. Everyone is digging in, trying to work through their slice, moving at their own pace, carving their path. Some rush. Some savour. Some stall. Some strategize.

And yes, some are so fixated on the cherry that they miss the cake entirely, distracted, impatient, constantly looking up at the top, asking "Is it still there?" every few bites.

But here's the truth:
If you can’t be present for the cake if you can’t let yourself taste it, explore its depth, share the experience with others at the table then the cherry, even if you do get it, won’t satisfy you.

Because the cherry?
It’s a moment.

A flash.

You bite it and it’s gone.
One second of sweet, and then... it's just memory.

But the cake the cake is the journey.
The setbacks, the breakthroughs, the messy bits, the learning, the collaboration, the unexpected turns of flavour. That’s where the real richness is.

And if, at the end, you don’t get the cherry?
You won’t be empty.
Because you were there, truly there for every bite.

And if you do get the cherry?
It’ll be a bonus, not the reason you showed up in the first place.

Three weeks before the race, I landed in Europe. I gave myself time, not just to acclimatise, but to immerse. I spent days in the Aosta Valley, exploring the route, reccying sections I'd only ever seen before in the dead of night. I sorted out logistics, figured out how I’d get back to my vehicle after training stints, and fine-tuned my strategy.

This wasn't just about racing. It was about building a relationship with the route, with the land, with the rhythm of the mountains. It was about feeling connected, not just to the finish line, but to the journey.

At home, I’d mapped out my plan in detail. On the ground, I brought that plan to life. I breathed in the air, touched the trails, felt the gravity of what was ahead. I wasn't alone in that. So many of my fellow competitors were doing the same, living the race before it had even begun.

Then came race day.

I toed the line with 1,100 others to take on what is, in my view, the most beautiful and brutally tough race in the world. A journey through staggering terrain, unforgiving climbs, soul-bending descents, and moments that defy words.

My cherry, like many others was to complete the loop, and do it in the best time I could. But I also held something deeper: an intention to be present in every part of the experience.

And I was.

I felt the pain and the fatigue. I let it in. I stood in awe of the landscape, again and again. I felt the camaraderie, the deep, unspoken bonds forming between strangers chasing the same horizon. As our bodies started to break down, our spirits seemed to light up.

Kindness bloomed.
Friendships formed.
We shared stories of past adventures and offered advice for the next stretch ahead. We encouraged. We laughed. We suffered. We lived it together.

I was never there just for the cherry.
In fact I wasn’t bothered about it.

I've been in this cake race before. I know its taste. And this one? It’s the most scrumptious and exhilaratingly delicious of them all.

I didn’t make it to the end this time.
But I got my fill.

And if I ever get the chance to go again,
I'll grab it with both hands.
Not because of the cherry.
But because the cake… is worth every bite.

This is to the people who made it possible for me to immerse myself in the mountains.

My Mum, dad and Eaddie who all took their tern looking after the girls whilst I was away.
Annmarie (Nikki's mum) for making the trip all the way over to the IOM to help out with the girls as well.

Thank you to my girls for allowing me to do this, I missed you so much and I know you missed me too.

Thanks also to Max and Brody who put us up the night I DNF'ed.

To the ESTR team (our athletes) who missed sessions whilst I was away but also gave (as always) invaluable moral support.

Finally to my partner and fiance Nikki who has made the whole thing possible.She expanded time, made the impossible possible and was their for me, in my corner the entire time. I do my best but I don't deserve these great people in my life.

I remain humble and wait for the next adventure to present its self.