A dark desert highway, cool wind in the hair. The sun peeks up behind the mountain and lights up the desert plateau. My fingers bite in the cold and I dig my gloves out, close my eyes and pull my headphones back over my ears, lulling myself into a relaxed state. A 40 minute warm-up has eased into dawn, and now the strip of tar across the Nevada desert is about to close to traffic. Laid in a handbike enclosed within a dark egg-like aerodynamic pod, this is one of the scariest endeavours I’ve ever partaken in: soon for another attempt at the World Human-Powered Vehicle landspeed record for arms.
I pull on my gloves, breath sharp in the chill, and settle into focus. ‘Staging’ onto the road is announced. Minutes later, I am helped into the handbike and the pod seals around me—carbon fibre, claustrophobic, an eggshell designed for speed. There is no horizon now, no sky, only a phone-sized screen showing the strip of tarmac ahead through a tiny periscope lens.
We launch. Every bump, every rattle booms through the shell, the sound of fragility at full tilt. Five miles to build, five miles to hold the line, and at the end, a narrow timing gate, two-hundred metres where we chase max speeds. This is not just a ride. It’s the razor edge between engineering and performance, control and chaos, failure and possibility.
But ‘failure’ is never that. It’s learning.
After seven years away, we have been back with the University of Liverpool Velocipede (ULV) Team in Nevada (8-13th September) with one clear goal: to design and ride a bike that beats / reclaims the hand-cycling land speed record* for a female and male rider, at the World Human Powered Speed Challenge.
High performance is never just about strength or willpower. It is always a dance between controllable and uncontrollable factors.
The week kicked off and it didn’t take long for the drama to start. The team hadn’t had time to test the bike on an open-road at realistic speeds, and the steering felt all over the place—too much play in the system meant major wobbles every time we tried to hold the bike steady on the long desert straight. I was very relieved to crawl out of the capsule afterwards. The engineering students jumped straight in, tweaking and tightening until the steering felt solid and rideable.
Even with the fixes though, something was still off. The speeds just weren’t there. Lots of head scratching and some thoughtful tinkering, the team pulled in advice from other riders, aero experts, and anyone with a clever idea to try. For the tech-curious among you, here’s a flavour of what we’ve been playing with:
Rolling resistance – The road feels rougher this year, so we’ve been fiddling with tyre pressures to reduce drag.
Aerodynamics – Think tiny details: sanding, polishing, even peeling off sponsor stickers. Later in the week we added velcro tabs on the shell to try and smooth out turbulence and a tail-end designed to reduce aero drag.
Dominant forces – Mechanical, gravitational and aero resistance forces and their relative impact on a handbike versus a two-wheeled velocipede.
Weather – The desert has been throwing curveballs: more humid air, colder temps, and even storms that cancelled rides. All of that equals more drag.
Despite all the tweaks, the speeds just haven’t clicked into place. It was disappointing for the team after so much effort that we came away with no new records, but we’re not the only ones. Pretty much everyone here is seeing slower times this year. Huge kudos though to the French team Altair (Annecy), who managed to bag a new European record with their sleek new bike at 88mph.
The week has been about so much more than numbers on a speedo. It’s been an intensive course in engineering, teamwork, creative problem-solving, and the fine art of chasing the outer limits of human-powered design. Every ride, even the messy ones, has taught us something new. It’s been fantastic for us all to have the chance to keep learning, keep pushing, and keep chasing what’s possible.
Thanks to all the team from Liverpool University Mechanical Engineering Department, the first-class Masters students (Michael, Yoshino, Olly, Tom, Aidan, Izzy & Bailey) sponsors, organisers, volunteers and everyone involved in such a fun, crazy and fascinating annual challenge. Not sure when we’ll be back but never say never!
It was great to have coaching support again from my long-time coach John at Endurance Bike and Run, hydration support from Precision Hydration, and connection to innovation with Clinisupplies.
* Myself and Ken Talbot both broke the world record in 2018: 46.54 mph (74.91km/h) and 51.58 (83.02km/h) respectively. Whilst my record still stands, the Italian team with rider Diego Colombari broke Ken’s male record in 2024 by just 0.17 mph at 51.75mph (83.28km/h).
Let’s cut the polite small talk. This blog isn’t about adventure or fun, outdoor stuff. But it is about once of the biggest challenges in taking adventures that people like me experience.
If you’ve got a spinal cord injury, a neurogenic condition, or anything that messes with gut motility… you know exactly what I’m talking about. The endless back-and-forth to the bathroom. The hours lost just waiting. The frustration, the discomfort, the feeling that your day revolves around your bowels.
We don’t talk about it enough because it’s awkward, messy, and not exactly a socially interesting Insta-worthy topic! But for a lot of us, it’s one of the hardest, most time-consuming, and most exhausting parts of life.
For me? I block out at least 90 minutes when I’m at home with everything set up perfectly. Out in the world, travelling, on expedition, or somewhere with a squat toilet and no privacy, it can become the biggest challenge of all. For sure, it’s sometimes harder than climbing a mountain or crossing an icecap.
I’ve been through it all: more fibre, less fibre, supplements, and at times, far too much senna. If you’ve done the “senna seesaw,” you know the deal: too little and nothing moves, too much and, well… chaos. Water irrigation systems help, but are not the entire solution.
So I started experimenting. Researching ingredients that help gut motility, mucosal health, inflammation, and the general health of my ‘insides’. I’ve come up with a formula that’s been really impactful for me: gentle, effective, and finally giving me back a better sense of trust that I will ‘go’ when I aim to ‘go’! I still have to be quite patient, but at least I can feel more confident.
Now I’m wondering: could this help others too?
That’s where you come in. Libby (my fantastic partner in this) and I want to hear from you:
What’s worked for you?
What hasn’t?
Would you be open to trying something new, natural, and carefully designed?
If this sounds like you, if you’re done with the senna rollercoaster and want your confidence back in this respect, we’d love your help.
👉 Fill out this quick survey so we can understand what’s really needed. 👉 Want to try it? We’re seeking a cost-effective manufacturer, and could send you a sample at cost price so you can see if it works for you.
This is about more than bathroom logistics. It’s about freedom, confidence, and taking back control of a part of life none of us should have to dread.
The tyres crunched and broke through a crust of salt, an unfamiliar experience after so many years riding over only tarmac and concrete. It was June 2022. It was the sound of liberation. It was the beginning of a new chapter in a story that had taken an unexpected turn three decades ago – a chapter I never thought I’d have the chance to write.
Across the encrusted salt of a Dead Sea beach, to the pebbles of a Loch Ness shore and the golden, wave-worn sands of the Scottish coast, the ICE handbike brought me freedom like I hadn’t known for thirty years of being paralysed. Each new terrain under my wheels was rewiring my mind, enabling me to reach places I naturally didn’t venture before. The reality had always been clear – if I diverted from a hard-packed trail or ribbon of tar, I would likely get stuck in my wheelchair or skinny-tyred handbike. But now, this machine was opening a whole new world.
I often found myself wondering: if I had known this freedom all along, I might never have funnelled my efforts for so many years into handbike racing around global circuits of tar. Perhaps those pristine racing circuits had been a compromise rather than a calling. Yet that racing history had built the strength and endurance for a challenge I never imagined possible.
When my friend Scott Wurtzbacher, founder of Inspire Campfire, invited me to join him and a group on a trek to Everest Basecamp, I marvelled at the word “YES!” as it left my mouth. I surprised even myself with the immediacy of my response. A previous version of me could never have agreed to ‘go trekking’: the Himalayas are not the first place that come to mind when thinking wheelchair-access, let alone the idea of scaling slopes to reach the most famed Base Camp in the world, below the most controversial peak on Earth.
Fast forward through a winter of anticipation, training, and preparation to March 22nd, 2025. The flight to Lukla promised to be the first hurdle: would my handbike’s super-size frame and ‘Al Mighty’ Schwalbe fat tyres possibly squeeze into the luggage compartment of the 18-seater twin-prop plane? “Yes, no problem” I was told months in advance during planning – but now, at the point of boarding the plane with only a tiny weather window to catch, it was a “Errrr, madam, we have big problem”.
The moment required rapid problem-solving, a skill that thirty years of paralysis has honed to perfection. With an allan key, some emergency dismantling, and a bunch of willing hands, we manipulated the ICE handtrike to fit into spaces it was never designed for. It wasn’t the last time on the journey that improvisation would save the day.
As our small aircraft climbed between towering peaks toward Lukla’s infamous mountain runway – allegedly the shortest, most dangerous runway in the world – I realized that this journey was already pushing me beyond boundaries I’d accepted for decades. I had never imagined, since becoming paralysed, that I would be trekking in the Himalayas, or witnessing first-hand the storied villages like Namche Bazaar that had existed only in adventure books and documentaries.
The ICE trike had experienced a warm-up in 2023, when its gnarly engineering with some help from African porters had taken me to the lofty heights of Kilimanjaro. But that was six days; this was a few weeks. That was a steady-inclined volcano; this was complex, twisted Himalayan morphology – a landscape that seemed to defy the very concept of wheeled movement.
As we flew in over the mountains, I felt their energy: waiting, indifferent to my paralysis, neither accommodating nor hostile – simply there, in all their magnificent challenge. I felt curious, but equipped not just with the right machine, but with the right mindset and some wonderful humans. It promised to be a journey beyond the assumed limitations of wheels, beyond boundaries that had defined my world since paralysis.
A piggyback from the plane and then over hundreds of steps landed me: along with our team, the porters who would support us, and my dishevelled, bubble-wrapped bike parts, on a concrete veranda. Whilst building the ICE trike, a tall rather Scottish-looking chap appeared at my side. “Karen Darke,” he muttered, “Only one person I know in a wheelchair mad enough to be here.” I looked up in disbelief. “Colin! What are you doing here?!”
Serendipity. Colin would become the knight, the saviour of my ability to pedal in the Himalayas, one of my heroes of the adventure ahead. The others that I would come to love and elevate to heroes were Durga, Kumar, Tez, Amar and Deepok, in fact all of their family, the ‘Basnets’, who would for the next few weeks be intensively involved in moving my wheelchair, my bike and me over super-tough terrain.
The body is so intricately interconnected that one torn muscle fibre can imbalance our whole system and prevent us from moving. My ICE trike is the same. A fine machine, meticulously engineered, meant that one missing front wheel skewer was effectively the end. Carefully wrapped in bubble wrap and tape to ensure it couldn’t come loose, it had disappeared – mysteriously vanished. A village-wide airport-scanning, bin-ravaging hunt began whilst I sat quietly, digging deep into my ability to reframe the situation. The prospect of being carried in a basket for two weeks did not feel an attractive alternative to riding. I am not at my best being a passenger.
Colin phoned his friend Sonam, a colleague instrumental in setting up the first fire and rescue service in the Khumbu region—home to the villages that line the path to Everest Base Camp. Sonam, a man with a small workshop and a reputation as “a magician with metal,” became our beacon of hope. While Colin tapped into his Himalayan network to locate a metal bar with the right diameter to serve as a makeshift axle, I braced myself for the only option available in the meantime: transport by basket.
And so, I found myself planted squarely in a wicker basket with a single strap fashioned from an old rice sack, designed to be carried across the forehead. The physical and mental resilience required to haul a human over steep, uneven Himalayan trails in such a manner defies comprehension. Yet I soon realised I was a featherweight compared to the commercial porters lurching past us with loads exceeding 100kg, balanced impossibly on their heads.
We had dithered long enough over what to do that, on route to our tea house for the night, we unexpectedly met Colin walking back toward Lukla – metal bar in hand. He had pushed ahead on the trail to retrieve the new axle and was now returning to join Sonam and begin the repairs.
To go into the intricacies of what unfolded in the following days would twist your mind and rattle your sense of what’s plausible. Let’s just say that the ICE trike – resilient and masterfully engineered – was pushed to its very limits, as were we. The improvised axle, made from metal that didn’t quite match the original grade, suffered under the strain: one catastrophic failure warped the brake disc beyond recognition, and others slowly bent out of shape as the terrain took its toll.
My nervous system was stretched taut, constantly anticipating the next point of failure. Yet every time it seemed we had reached the end of the road, another unlikely thread of magic unfurled: a spare brake disc discovered with Himalayan Single Track in Kathmandu; a sunrise motorbike dash to the airport; Chinese tourists arriving by helicopter for a champagne-and-croissant breakfast who just happened to have cargo space; and another metal rod, quickly reshaped into a handful of backup axles.
Colin and his deeply rooted Himalayan network pulled off quiet miracles in a land that gave nothing away easily—only challenge, grit, and a relentless sense of awe from the very first step. When the path became too much – its boulders, brutal gradients, and the sheer resistance it offered to a handbike – I accepted the basket with grace. It was, surprisingly, a welcome reprieve from the intense concentration required to navigate three wheels, all while a team of spirited porters pushed, pulled, and heaved me onward.
In those moments of surrender, I leant back and let go, held by capable hands that knew the terrain like an old friend. Freed from the urgency of movement, I could finally lift my gaze. Towering pinnacles loomed above – names I’d read in books came to life in dizzying dimensions: Ama Dablam, Lhotse, Nuptse, Lobuche… and countless other summits whose names I may never learn, but whose forms are etched into memory.
You needn’t have grown up on the flatlands, nor spent decades in a wheelchair, to be floored by the drama and scale of this living, breathing landscape. Its shapes aren’t static – they rise, fall, twist, and cut into the sky with a force that speaks to something ancient and untamed. The altitude starved my pedalling muscles and lungs, yet now and again I found the breath to gasp, simply: “Woah.”
Most of the time, though, my senses were too absorbed, fixated on the rhythm of the bike, or scanning the line of porters to anticipate the next lift or lurch. Moments to truly pause were rare. But when they came, they landed. Tears often streamed down my cheeks. I saw not just mountains, but the unshakable will of the people around me – their strength, their kindness, their quiet unquestioning certainty that we would reach Everest Base Camp. And in that, I saw a determination that, at times, out-scaled even my own.
Partway through the journey, Scott turned to me and asked how I was doing. I looked him straight in the eye and said, “This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done.” He later admitted that my words filled him with a quiet unease—if I saw it that way, what did that really mean?
I found myself unpacking that moment long after it passed, curious about my own choice of words. What made it feel so crazy? Was it the terrain – twisted, unforgiving, strewn with obstacles that turned every metre into a calculated risk, whether navigating by handbike or surrendering to the basket? Was it the relentless concentration required to manage each shift in gradient, to communicate with the small, committed team hauling me forward with trust and muscle? Perhaps it was the environmental intensity – the sudden swings in temperature, the effects of altitude, the constant need to protect a paralysed body from cold, pressure and injury.
There was also the emotional toll: my concern for the porters and the physical demands placed on them. The sheer scale of the challenge – aiming for Everest Base Camp at 5,364 metres. And an ever-present, quiet worry: that I might somehow be a burden on the others in our group, each of them navigating their own personal terrain – physical, emotional, or both.
Crazy? Perhaps. But what is “crazy” if not a reflection of our own perspective at a given point in time? What feels outrageous in one moment may feel inspired in the next. With the flick of a lens, I could have used a different word altogether: wondrous. Because it was. It was breathtaking, humbling, extraordinary – filled with moments that stirred awe and surprise.
And if anything was truly wondrous, it was the team that formed around me. The porters called me “Didi” – sister – and I called them my “Bais” – brothers. I felt it deeply: a bond built from respect, shared endeavour, and a kind of light-hearted strength that threaded itself through even the toughest moments. Their resilience and steady grace left me in awe. There was no trace of tension, no ego, no friction: only warmth, humour, kindness, and a respectful meeting with both the task and the land beneath our feet.
In a world so often defined by division and effort, it felt like a rare alchemy: the quiet miracle of people simply showing up for one another, moment by moment, step by breathless step.
Colin continued on with us. “I’ve never been to Everest Base Camp,” he admitted, despite spending much of the year living in the high-altitude village of Dingboche, just a few days’ walk away. “If ever there was a moment to go, this is it,” he said—and I deeply appreciated his companionship and selfless commitment to getting the ICE trike through, allowing me to experience as much independence and freedom in the mountains as possible.
He came equipped with tools, spare axles, and his ever-reliable problem-solving mind. With additional support from the most mechanically minded members of our team – Keith and Sam – it felt as though no axle failure, bent disc, or snapped cable could halt our uphill momentum.
Only on the final day to Base Camp did we decide the bike would need to be left behind and exchanged for the basket for the full day. The giant boulders and tangled path through the moraine of the Khumbu Glacier were simply not ‘trikeable’. I was in awe that we had made it so far—and felt a deep peace in surrendering to that final basket-haul up to Everest Base Camp.
Arriving at Everest Base Camp was a moment imprinted to memory. As the prayer flags fluttered in the thin, chilly wind and the giant icy peaks stood sentinel around us, we gathered at the iconic boulder that marks the end of the trail. Laughter, tears, and cheers mingled as we embraced each other, posed for endless photos, and soaked in the magnitude of what we had achieved together, an acknowledgement of perseverance, unity, and the quiet power of teamwork and human spirit meeting the vastness of the Himalayas.
Of course, descending had its own challenges and long days, but we all made it intact and safe, and I feel grateful for that.
In the end, what I carried away from our Himalayan journey was not just the memory of broken axles and improbable repairs, but a deeper encounter with surrender and trust. I had to let go completely, possibly more than ever before, to the unexpected. At times I felt I was being unravelled, but in truth, I see it now as a deeper weaving. Every day was filled with occurrences beyond my imagination. I flowed in the hands of others and with the landscape itself. I learned to trust not in certainty, but in the wild and generous rhythms of people and place. Even in the most precarious moments, there is beauty in being held, and in being part of something far larger than our minds can conceive.
So, dear reader, whatever situation or challenge life presents to you: surrender, trust and see what magic can unfold
Thank you, to all who were touched the core and edges of our adventure; to Scott Wurtzbacher for the suggestion (Inspire Campfire), to ICE trikes, ZTrikes (handbike attachment), and GM4X for prep and repair, to Badri our guide (Travel Nepal – Himalayas Treks), to the Basnet family (who formed the majority of our porter team), to Colin Bruce (Braemar Mountain Sports), to dear friends from Scotland (Vicky Sherwood, whose school St Leonard’s in St Andrews gave her term-time out to join me), to Clare Brown for her deep support and room-sharing), to new friends in our team (Sam, Keith, Ryan, Julian, Michelle, Clare, Shiv, Raul, Viktor, Kevin and Joey) and to every single person that supported us along the way (Olga, Dave Durkan, Jo Chaffer, Sonam, Anguru, Himalayan Single Track…the list is long and sorry if I have missed a specific mention!).
Detoxing for Health and Energy: A Personal Journey & Why It’s Vital for Paraplegics: Until recently, I didn’t realise how sluggish I generally felt; nothing serious, but low grade migraines, chronic constipation, bloating, and that a foggy-headed feeling I didn’t even notice—these were just part of my normal. It wasn’t until I started supporting my body’s detoxification pathways more intentionally (thanks to support from the Harpal clinic that identified my lower genetic ability for detoxification) that I noticed a dramatic shift.
Within three weeks of taking Glutathione, my mental fog lifted and I felt noticeably more energised. It was like my body had been carrying an invisible burden and something had cleared. In my days of Paralympic competition, I had found that Quercetin made a huge difference to how I felt – lighter and sharper – but had not investigated why and didn’t know that it, like Glutathione, has detox-supporting properties.
These experiences made me interested in how much detoxification matters—not just for me, but for anyone dealing with health challenges, and particularly for anyone with paralysis. Reduced circulation, slower lymphatic drainage, and a history of medications like antibiotics and anaesthetics can all contribute to a higher toxic load. If the body isn’t detoxing efficiently, it can lead to fatigue, brain fog, chronic inflammation, sluggish digestion, and other health issues.
Toxins come from many sources—food, air, water, medications, and even stress. Normally, the body eliminates waste through the liver, kidneys, lungs, skin, and digestive system but for many of us, detoxification processes can become less efficient because of:
(1) Medications and Medical Interventions: Many of us have undergone surgeries, anaesthesia, or take long-term medications such as pain relievers, muscle relaxants, or antibiotics. While these are often necessary, they can leave behind residual compounds that must be processed and expelled.
(2) Reduced Circulation and Lymphatic Drainage: The lymphatic system, which flushes out toxins, relies heavily on muscle movement. Since paralysis reduces mobility, lymphatic flow can slow down, leading to a buildup of waste products. This can contribute to swelling, chronic inflammation, and general sluggishness.
(3) Digestive Sluggishness: The gut is a major player in detoxification, but paralysis (or other gut issues) often means reduced bowel motility. If digestion slows down, waste sits in the intestines longer than it should, leading to toxin reabsorption. This can result in bloating, discomfort, and fatigue. I personally experienced chronic constipation for years before realising how much it was impacting my overall health.
When detox pathways are sluggish, the body may start showing signs of toxin buildup. Some of the most common symptoms include:
Unexplained headaches – Especially those that persist without a clear cause
The latter three symptoms have been clues to me that my detox pathways weren’t working well, but since I’ve been actively supporting them, those issues have significantly improved.
How to Support Detoxification Naturally
My approach to detoxing hasn’t been about extreme cleanses or fasting—it’s been about supporting my body’s natural ability to remove waste efficiently. Here are some things I have found helpful:
Prioritising Hydration: Water is essential for flushing toxins through the kidneys and urine. Many paraplegics struggle with hydration due to bladder management routines, but steady, consistent intake can make a huge difference. Adding lemon water can further support liver detoxification.
Eating a Nutrient-Dense, Anti-Inflammatory Diet: Processed foods, refined sugars, and artificial additives contribute to toxicity. Some of the best detox-supporting foods which I try to include in my diet daily are:
Turmeric and ginger – Support anti-inflammatory processes
Leafy greens (kale, coriander) – Help neutralise heavy metals
Cruciferous vegetables (broccoli, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts) – Aid liver detox
Supporting Lymphatic Drainage: Since movement is limited, I’ve found that swimming or other exercise that means my legs are elevated (gentle handbiking) really helps stimulate my circulation and reduce swelling.
Deep Breathing and Oxygenation: Many of us unknowingly take shallow breaths, which limits the lungs’ ability to expel waste carbon dioxide. I’m still working on this one, trying to build a daily habit, but practising diaphragmatic breathing helps increase oxygenation, boosts circulation, and support detox.
Optimising Gut Health: Keeping digestion moving is crucial. Strategies that have helped me include:
Probiotics(fermented foods, supplements) & prebiotics to balance & support gut bacteria;
Liquorice and gingerto soothe the gut lining;
Flaxseed and chia seedsto increase fibre;
Regular exercise and stretching / massageto stimulate bowel movement.
Sweating & Heat Therapy: Sweating is a powerful detox method, so a good workout on the handbike helps me, and I always feel good after a sauna (being careful not to burn the skin I can’t feel. Still working on a home sauna dream!
Reducing Environmental Toxins: Everyday exposure to pollutants, plastics, and chemicals adds to the body’s toxic load. I try to use very few / no chemical products on my body (e.g. natural carrier oils with aromatherapy oils), natural cleaning products when possible.
Take a personal approach to detoxing. What works for me might not work for everyone. Each person’s body, genetics, and health history are unique, meaning there isn’t a one-size-fits-all solution. Just because Glutathione and Quercetin have helped me doesn’t mean they’ll work for everyone. I share my experience to highlight how much of a difference getting to know your body, eating well, and using targeted supplementation can make.
If you’ve been feeling sluggish, bloated, or foggy, it might be worth exploring whether your detox pathways need extra support. Small, consistent habits—like staying hydrated, eating nutrient-rich foods, and improving circulation—can reduce toxin buildup, increase energy, and improve overall well-being.
If you have experienced symptoms of toxin overload, I’d love to hear what has helped you feel your best – drop me a line 🙂
A proactive approach and responsibility towards preventative healthcare seems vital given the health benefits and the existing overload of the NHS.
If you are interested in taking a proactive approach you may wish to join our next ‘Rest & Digest’ online course and/or contact the Harpal Clinic in London to take up a complimentary 20 minute discovery telephone call to learn more about Longevity Nutrition for Preventative Health and how it can support you. This can be booked in with Victoria Marshall using this link.
Imagine floating gently on water with a backdrop of Scottish mountains, sea merging to sky, magical light cast over the landscape. If like me, you appreciate “time out” but still being outdoors and gently moving, there is nothing like sea kayaking as a powerful way to reset mind, body and spirit. This inspired me to create these Transformational Sea Kayaking Retreats in Scotland – to combine adventure and nature with a dose of ‘inner growth’.
Blue spaces in nature provide a calm and healing environment. The world’s ‘Blue Zones’ illustrate that the combination of nature, activity and connection with others in meaningful ways is crucial to our health and longevity. Read more about the 2024 sea kayaking retreat here. The location of these sea kayaking retreats – the Moray Coast – is a hidden gem of Scotland: a tapestry of rock and rolling natural beauty, an area flourishing with nature and history. The sea here is ever-changing, a reflection of the expansive sky that shifts from moody greys to brilliant blues. Dolphins and seal play in the waters, and charming fishing villages with unique character punctuate the hues of blue. It’s the perfect place to enjoy the mental and physical benefits of sea kayaking, with coaching alongside nature to support you in navigating wherever you are in life.
The water-based retreats have sea kayaking as a focus. “I’ve always found nature to be like the CEO of my life. If I ever feel unclear, overwhelmed, stressed and even physically injured, relaxed time outside always seems to rebalance me.
I contributed a chapter about the healing power of nature to the book ‘Wilder Journeys: True Stories of Nature, Adventure and Connection (Watkins Publishing, 2023).Being paralysed from the chest down, finding ways into nature and particularly these blue spaces has been fundamental to my wellbeing.I spent over a decade committed to a Paralympic cycling career, led primarily by my desire to spend more time outside and to move my body, and now I am excited to help other people do the same. Any challenge in life can stretch and stress us and create imbalance in our mind and body, so we can all benefit hugely from getting into these restorative blue spaces”.
The benefits of sea kayaking
The focus of these sea kayaking retreats is on wellness, with multiple benefits such as:
Meditative Movement – The gentle rhythm of paddling and the sound of the sea create a perfect flow state for relaxation.
Stress Reduction – Time on the water helps quiet the mind, improve focus, and reduce anxiety.
Natural Healing – The fresh ocean air and immersion in nature enhance mental well-being and provide a powerful reset for the body and mind.
Confidence Boosting – Gain new skills, challenge yourself, and experience the thrill of independent exploration on the water.
Low-Impact Fitness – Strengthen your core, arms, and shoulders without the strain of high-impact activities.
Whatever you do, you’ll be enhancing your immune system and benefiting your wellbeing, and supporting your metabolism and mitochondria. In conjunction with a group of others with sufficient space, you’ll also be helping yourself further with feelings of belonging and connection.
All instruction, equipment and high quality guiding is included. See ‘Scotland Retreats’ on this page for more information and to enquire. Next dates are 28th June – 2nd July.
Maintaining gut health as a paraplegic athlete has been quite a learning curve! As a Paralympic hand cyclist and adventurer, I am no stranger to the challenges of managing my body’s health. For athletes, intense training schedules lead to increased cortisol levels, inflammation and physical stress: gut health becomes a central piece of the wellness puzzle. For those with paraplegia, gut health can be even more complex due to reduced motility, the need for manual evacuation, and increased sensitivity in the digestive system. I have come to understand the importance of a balanced gut biome for energy, resilience, and overall well-being.
One of the main challenges is gut motility – or how quickly food moves through the digestive system. With paraplegia, nerve signals to the gut are often disrupted, leading to slower transit times and constipation. This can cause bloating, discomfort, and the need for manual evacuation, which not only affects the gut but can also become a source of stress. Prolonged stress contributes to increased levels of cortisol, the body’s “fight-or-flight” hormone – helpful in response to immediate stress, but chronic high levels can contribute to adrenal fatigue and even compromise the immune system. This has no doubt led me on multiple occasions to some acute health situations and hospitalisation including an internal abscess in my colon, polyps within the bowel, and due to a compromised immune system, repeated infections from my teeth to my bladder.
I am training again this year for a few physical challenges (a handbike trek to Everest base camp, a ‘Landspeed Armpower / Handbike Record’ attempt with students at Liverpool University a ride around Iceland with Adaptive Expeditions. I know that too much physical exertion is not healthy and I look back at previous somewhat addictive tendencies to exercise that have been detrimental. However, I love to move and to live adventure, so I need to do it differently this time. I absolutely do not want to get ill, or compromise my health. So, I am going in deeper than ever on caring for my gut biome.
I am fortunate to have the support of The Harpal Clinic in this, a longevity focused wellbeing centre who have supported me to analyse my gut biome and make further changes through nutrition, hydration, and targeted pre- and probiotics. Following a DNA nutrient test with them, the team there advised me to supplement with Glutathione which helps remove toxins from the body – based on my specific gene make-up so not necessarily right for everyone. My head is feeling a lot clearer! I’m also lucky to have a sister-in-law, Edwina Darke, as a nutritional therapist. By nurturing a healthy balance of gut bacteria we can reduce inflammation and I hope this will keep my body in good shape alongside the physical demands of training. Here are some strategies I am using that could be helpful for others managing similar issues, regardless of whether you like to stretch your body through physical exercise:
Fibre and Hydration: Getting enough fibre is essential for gut health and can be a key factor in improving gut motility. I always include plenty of high-fibre foods in my diet—such as fruits, vegetables, and whole grains—along with staying well-hydrated. Hydration is especially important because, without enough water, fibre can actually slow things down even more. Adding ground flax seed (golden linseed) into my daily diet has been a big help.
Prebiotics and Probiotics: I ensure prebiotic foods like garlic, bananas, and onions are in my diet to “feed” the beneficial bacteria in the gut. I am also taking a high-quality prebiotic and probiotic supplement to ensure that my digestive system is populated with helpful bacteria, particularly useful given I have been exposed to significant antibiotic use to manage infections.
Reducing Inflammatory Foods: Intense training can sometimes lead to inflammation in the body, and certain foods can make it worse. I have always avoided highly processed foods, too much sugar, and excessive caffeine, as these can exacerbate digestive sensitivity. I am focusing harder though on an even more diverse diet of anti-inflammatory foods like berries, leafy greens, and fatty fish, and on replacing my morning coffee with de-caffeinated to avoid a spike of cortisol and blood sugar response which caffeinated coffee stimulates.
Mindful Eating and Stress Management: Since stress directly affects digestion, I incorporate different ‘mindful’ practices into my daily life: self-hypnosis, breathing techniques, meditation, a practice called Resosenseand another called Innerdance which both help in somatic relaxation of the body. I am sometimes ‘too quick’ in everything I do, so a decision to eat more mindfully, slowing the pace and enjoying each bite is a new, helpful habit I have introduced.
By focusing on these practices, I know my gut health has already transformed from the days when I was often chronically constipated, bloated and felt heavy in body and mind as a result. But I know there is more I can do too! Things to work on include…
Avoid coffee before breakfast, as it spikes cortisol & blood sugar.
Add significantly more protein at breakfast.
Even greater food variety to encourage more biome diversity.
Try sodium butyrate supplementation to further support my microbiome.
Work on improving my carbohydrate intake to support the more intense training sessions.
Hippocrates is famous for his quote: “All disease begins in the gut.” In fact, so many health issues connect to our ‘second brain‘, and indicate a good chance of having a disrupted gut. I hope you can find solutions to any gut or health challenges you may have, and if you’re interested consider joining the ‘Rest & Digest‘ online course starting 29th January.
Meanwhile, happy festive season and keep the food colourful and healthy as much as you can 🙂
Illustration of woman suffering from cystitis. Urinary infection
Antibiotic resistance (AMR) is a global issue, affecting countries across all regions and income levels, posing significant challenges to public health and treatment efficacy. Persons with spinal cord injury or disorder (SCI/D) are particularly susceptible to antibiotic resistance due to their heightened risk of recurrent infections. This blog takes a look at these themes in releation to supporting the immune system to cope with chronic urinary tract infections, a topic that my own health challenges have led me to explore.
In response to this rising challenge of antibiotic resistance, the government announced its new national action plan on antimicrobial resistance, a five year plan to protect people and animals from the risk of drug-resistant infections.Researchers are making progress, but clinical trials need to be developed to ensure safety and efficacy in humans.
Researchers from Imperial College London have made significant strides in combating antibiotic resistance. They have discovered a method to impair antibiotic-resistant bacteria, such as E. coli and K. pneumoniae, by inhibiting a protein that drives resistance formation within these bacteria. Dr. Furniss from Imperial emphasizes that “due to the challenges in discovering new antibiotics, it is crucial to develop strategies that extend the lifespan of existing antimicrobials.”
Additional progress was made in January 2024 when scientists discovered a new class of antibiotics that can kill one of the major drug-resistant bacteria threatening human health. Gram-negative bacteria are protected by an outer shell containing lipopolysaccharide (LPS). No new antibiotic for Gram-negative bacteria have been approved in more than 50 years, but this study with Zosurabalpin successfully treated highly drug-resistant strains of pneumonia and sepsis in mice, and is now being tested in human trials.
Protecting our own health and that of others around us, means taking steps to help prevent antibiotic resistance. This starts with using preventative measures related to good nutrition and certain foods that can help avoid antibiotic use whenever possible.
If antibiotics are essential, standard measures should be taken to inhibit the development of resistance: clinical recommendations suggest:
Avoid their use with viruses.
Avoid saving antibiotics for next time.
Take a course exactly as prescribed and complete it to the end.
Do not take antibiotics prescribed for another person.
For people like myself with SCI/D, other effective preventative measures like good hygiene and catheter maintenance are crucial, and a prevention strategy may include use of grapefruit juice and seed extract, D-mannose, Cranberry juice or extract, and choosing a diet that limits formation of debris and stones in the bladder or kidneys, which can attract further infection. This means stablising the pH of the urinary tract through diet: minimising intake of sugary and processed food, being measured in eating oxolate-rich foods, and also limiting dietary sources rich in purines.
Thanks to the Harpal Clinic London for helping me explore my own health more deeply.
The benefits of ‘blue space’ and of nature, adventure and connection are increasingly being recognised. Wise to the health advantages of time outdoors, a group of reflective explorers on a ‘sea kayaking retreat’ left a huddle of wheelchairs sat on the shore beside the waters of Moray, Scotland. A diverse set of adventurers, we were delighted to explore beneath cliffs, archways and geological beauties of the coastline, treated to rich bird life, pods of dolphins and the inspiration of a great group of people.
The Moray coastal area is a hidden gem, a ‘blue zone’ of Scotland with its picturesque and rugged coastline, a tapestry of rock and rolling natural beauty that etches a line between the North Sea and restorative countryside. We had five days together on the water, and we could feel our bodies and minds release and reset. Blue spaces in nature provide a calm and healing environment. The world’s ‘Blue Zones’ illustrate that the combination of nature, activity and connection with others in meaningful ways is crucial to our health and longevity.
The sea is ever-changing, a reflection of the expansive sky that shifts from moody greys to brilliant blues, merging to sky, magical light cast over the landscape. Dolphins and seals play in the waters, and charming fishing villages with unique character punctuate the hues of blue.
The water-based retreats had sea kayaking as a focus and were inspired by my own reverence for nature. I’ve always found nature to be like the CEO of my life. If I ever feel unclear, overwhelmed, stressed and even physically injured, relaxed time outside always seems to rebalance me. I contributed a chapter about the healing power of nature to the book ‘Wilder Journeys: True Stories of Nature, Adventure and Connection (Watkins Publishing, 2023).
Being paralysed from the chest down can make accessing nature more challenging, but finding ways to be in these blue spaces has been fundamental to my wellbeing.I spent over a decade committed to a Paralympic cycling career, led primarily by my desire to spend more time outside and to move my body. Now spending time in these restorative blue spaces helps me navigate through life with a sense of balance and peace.
There are plenty of possibilities out there for water-connected time out. Finding a way to enjoy the benefits of blue space in a way that suits you is likely to elevate your health and sense of wellbeing, be it wild swimming, paddleboarding, surfing or simply being beside a body of water. Whatever you do, you’ll be enhancing your immune system and supporting your metabolism and mitochondria. Do it with a few other lovely humans and you’ll also be helping your health with important feelings of belonging and connection.
Nature restores us. If connected ‘time out’ in Scotland or Mallorca appeals, either as part of a retreat or one to one, drop me a line. I would also like to acknowledge a very special organisation I am collaborating with, whose lens on nature mirrors my own. THE BLUE DOT – providing Eco Therapy for humans of the modern world – whose mission is to help people draw on the 4.5 billion years of nature’s unparalleled wisdom. As the team there highlight,
“Extraordinarily creative; Nature has no ego, never judges, criticises or neglects. Transcending our politics and interpersonal conflicts, Nature provides a powerful mirror for us to reflect on ourselves, others and the world around us – challenging us to expand our awareness and commitment within our healing process.”
One of my big interests as a result of years in high-performance sport and living with a spinal cord injury is how we can optimize our health. By health I mean having good energy and an ability to be present and engage with where we are, what we are doing or who we are with. Managing energy is important in a sporting context to train and perform, but I am acutely aware of how my health often hasn’t been optimal. I have had too many hospital stays, most of them very avoidable! If we don’t have good mental and physical energy for every part of our life: work, relationships, social and fun stuff, then we are living sub-optimally.
Many of us are living with chronic stress, too much desk or computer time, dutifully conforming to expectations of our job or role, not prioritising our wellbeing and at the cost of our happiness and health. I think this quote by Belinda Kirk from her book the Adventure Revolution sums it up well (p.47).
“We have an innate need to belong, so we dutifully follow rules and conform. This tendency has enabled humanity to build civilisations. We’re told that by behaving like this we can create efficiency and achieve success, but we’ve somehow lost the balance along the way…”
I have definitely lost balance at times. I have often over-done things from physical training to certain foods (some of which I thought were healthy), and in the process compromised my immune system and intermittently lost my spark. We often sacrifice our health for habits that don’t serve us. Many of us rely on a health system that is great at managing acute trauma but typically not chronic conditions as a result of our lifestyle choices. We feed our brains with news that is usually bad, fill our bodies with processed food and drink, and immerse ourselves in environments that are often polluting to our energy. The risk to our wellbeing is greater than ever, and our health system is stressed.
If we want to change things we have to make an effort, but our human tendency is to resist change as it takes us out of our comfort zone. It is easier to keep on doing what we always did, but this then keeps us limited. Often, it takes a crisis before we are willing to change.
Living with paraplegia creates more vulnerability to health issues. In 2022 I was about to pedal a cool Formula 1 handbike on the back of a yacht to generate power on the boat whilst sailing to Greenland, but instead spent a fortnight in an Icelandic hospital with sepsis. Due to antibiotic resistance I needed back-shelf antibiotics. It was scary, and that was the crisis that triggered me to delve deeper into how we can take more responsibility for our health and wellbeing.
Most of know what it is like to feel unwell, to have pain or no energy, and of course, the opposite too: to feel energised and vibrant. What would it be like to experience more of that vibrancy and health? Is it possible to feel physically and mentally great all or most of the time?
Initiatives like the Zoe podcast and products have generated wider interest (at least in the UK), but also fields like functional medicine (focused on finding root causes), regenerative, longevity and lifestyle medicine are growing in popularity.
My own interest in this was piqued last year on listening to podcasts by Dr Gladden at Gladden Longevity in the USA, and since then I have begun digging deeper into the ideas and searching for areas of expertise closer to home. This month I visited the Harpal Clinic in London, their mission to: “Help your body help itself”. I met with Dr Bains, the founder, and some of her dedicated team. I am excited to be a case-study for their holistic approach to finding root causes, combining functional medicine with stress and lifestyle methods. The consultation was to explore my own health, as well as helping me consider some of the broader issues that can impact us with a spinal cord injury.
Whilst the detail of our health and lifestyle patterns are unique to each of us, my aim is to share any insights that might be useful to you too. I’ll explore some general themes like sleep and brainwave health, stress and the mind-body connection but also some specifics like digestive system health, skin health, bladder health and urinary tract infections (UTI’s). I hope to add in some perspectives from medics, practitioners and experts to help enhance the quality and to provide different voices on each topic. More soon…
Nature offers us so many metaphors that reflect the processes and changes of our own life. Spring is here. Buds burst into life and paint a maze of colour. Early morning air is filled with birdsong and lambs play in the fields. It is the season of new life, re-birth and the promise of opportunities that light and warmth bring. For me, Spring especially presents opportunity this year: a whole new possibility that has been absent from my landscape for many years.
Have you ever had an experience where something is emerging that is so far removed from your ‘normal’ that you don’t know quite how to share it with anyone? We hardly dare speak about it as it feels so fragile, perhaps with roots that run deep into our being. We sense the excitement and curiosity, as well as the fear and vulnerability.
I am navigating this process at the moment. Last year, a new paradigm emerged for me as I entered into exploring healthspan and how to optimise it. An opening came to speak with a healthspan and longevity specialist, Dr Jeffrey Gladden MD FACC (Gladden Longevity), who suggested that by using a multi-disciplinary scientific approach it might be possible to aim for recovery of my long-injured spinal cord. I felt an initial loud “Yes!” However, stepping forward into this possibility has been more challenging than I expected. You may have noticed a crowdfunder that has one contribution of $25 (thank you Ryan!), and two podcasts about the project thanks to Gladden Longevity & Inspire Campfire (Scott Wurtzbacher, who introduced us). The project has not yet taken flight, perhaps not surprising given that when we are ‘wobbling’ with our external goals, the path does not open easily.
I rarely accept the ‘status quo’, and I fundamentally believe that we are responsible for our own reality, creating it with the small thoughts and actions we allow in each moment. I created the ‘Pole of Possibility’ in Antarctica and I live a life focused on possibility. My default is to embrace life without cynicism, skepticism or fear. Part of me is observing my role in this project not yet ‘taking flight’.
How do we move stuckness and open new ways forward? How do we decide which path to take and whether it is the right one for us? In the past I have used all kinds of processes. I use my thinking brain to consider ‘reasons for’ and ‘reasons not to’, I might break down my fears and worries into tiny parts and find small solutions that gradually build my sense of safety and confidence to step forward. I connect to my deeper core of knowing by spending time in nature, meditation and other ways of listening within. I visualise and practice what I call ‘creating future in the present’. The combination of our smart thinking mind with our inner stillness help us dance with uncertainty and find ways through these ‘big’ sorts of life decisions.
I share here some of my process in respect to this healthspan and spinal cord injury (SCI) repair project. On the ‘resistance’ side, I find myself asking questions like “Is it really possible to repair a body that has been paralysed for thirty-one years?” (Perhaps a limiting belief); “Who am I to try?” (Maybe I am doubting my self-worth); “Does it matter to me given I am already fortunate to have such a rich, full, purposeful life?” (Perhaps avoidance or an excuse); “Whilst paralysis isn’t ‘ideal’, we all have incredible capacity to adapt and I have learned to love my life as it is, why risk change?” (Perhaps I have a fear of change); “What are the risks and could it make things worse?” (Sounds like a reasonable question!).
On the ‘receptive’ side, I find myself asking questions of positive possibility like “Health is paramount and how could optimising it enable more good energy and contribution to the world?”; “Paralysis and its complications are rising in frequency – one person is paralysed in the UK every two minutes, consuming a lot of energy and other resources for individuals, families and health systems. Could this project give useful insights to help wellbeing of all with SCI?” ; “There are fifteen million paralysed humans in the world who tend to die on average around twenty percent younger than our able-bodied friends; what if we could all live with an enhanced healthspan?”.
I have been paralysed now since 1993, unable to move or twitch a muscle from the chest level down, nor feel touch or pain below this level (classed as a ‘complete’ spinal cord injury). My body has developed its own curious ways of communicating with me, signals which I don’t always interpret soon enough or translate into appropriate action. For this reason, I have had some near misses, as many paralysed people do. If we could develop better means to avoid or detect some of these peripheral health issues like bladder, kidney, lung or skin infections, the risk of complication or mortality would be reduced.
In recent years and with increasing regularity, I hear of a new breakthrough and how someone with paralysis has walked. From ‘tech’ aids like exoskeletons, spinal cord simulation and electrical implants to more fundamental changes via stem-cell work, there are ‘surprise’ results around the world. Those who gain recovery attribute it to various causes: intense neuro-physio, stem cells, and neuroplastic effects of the brain and wider nervous system. When you love your life and you have been marinated in a paradigm of ‘no cure’, it is easy to dismiss these stories as someone getting lucky, or an injury being incomplete (meaning the spinal cord is not entirely severed).
Any idea of a long healthspan and restoring function with an injured spinal cord would have fallen on deaf ears even just a decade ago. The paradigm then was that paralysis was for life and full of complicated health challenges.
Medical technology has advanced and many scientists are optimistic about future treatments that can heal a damaged spinal cord. Whilst effectiveness has been limited, scientists continue to work on ideas to help spinal nerve tissue grow back and heal. There were breakthroughs in 2023 using both stem cells that signal nerve cell repair, and in a separate study, using an artificial matrix to help cells grow. Advances in research and development of regenerative medicine methods and stem-cell technology research have brought us to an interesting place where spinal cord injury no longer seems ‘incurable’. Sometimes the biggest scientific discoveries are made when ideas from different fields collide. I am fortunate to arrive in this interesting though challenging place, one which rocks my comfort zone and the ‘old’ paradigm that spinal cord injury is ‘incurable’, or that the health challenges it brings are something we have no agency to improve.
The Project
Dr Gladden has insight and experience with regenerative medicine and has offered to apply regeneration medicine methods to optimise my body environment for healing. The work with Dr Gladden will assess the ‘health’ of my paralysed body using various diagnostic and laboratory tests to assess each system of my body. The results combined with his experience and knowledge of treatments to bring the body to optimal health, will prepare me for the possibility of cutting-edge SCI stem-cell treatment with leading researchers and clinicians.
The aim of the project is to take a multi-disciplinary approach,merging regenerative medicine methods with regenerative stem-cell research, neuro-physiotherapy, neuroplasticity and other modalities in approaching two specific questions:
How can the body environment best be optimised in people with SCI to optimise healthspan and reduce minimise risk of life-threatening secondary conditions / early mortality?
Has medical science advanced to the point that with a multi-disciplinary approach, joining together different fields of medicine and research, that spinal cord communication can be recovered even after decades of paralysis?
My life as a paraplegic has been so rich in experiences, adventures, unique perspectives and human connections that I have grown to love it. When you love your life, it is easy not to embrace change; but change is the only thing certain in this life. It always guarantees learning and holds intriguing possibility.
This project has been slow to ‘take flight’ in part due to my discomfort with asking for support for something that feels so ‘wild’ to my own thinking. It eases my discomfort that it an contribute knowledge and insight to a growing global health issue, not only for SCI but for all of us interestsed in optimising our health. I sincerely thank anyone who resonates with it and thank you for either contributing or sharing.
More details on the project and the revised, staged approach I plan to take are within the fundraiser link here https://gofund.me/44b3531a I would like to invite you to be part of this journey with me, and to offer something back. If you are able donate $25 or more, please email me via my website and let me know what you would most appreciate from the ‘menu’ of things I am offering in return for donations, listed within the fundraiser.
