10 Years Since... Snowboarding

10 Years ago I had my final ride in Freeride snowboarding, the sport I had given much of my early adulthood too, I had reached a semi professional level, sponsored by a European freeride snowboarding company, and I spent the most of my winters touring across Europe to compete in the Freeride World Tour.

I did what many semi-pro athletes do to turn their ambitions into a lifestyle, I worked compromising hours through day and night to support my snowboarding activities during the winter months. I sacrificed a lot of time, energy and money in pursuit of the dream, and to extent, I achieved it, I reached far further than I would have ever imagined when I first started the sport, I travelled the world, met a lot of amazing and ambitious people who committed themselves to alternative sports lifestyles, and it was a community of people who understand each others drive to be standing quite literally at the top of those mountains.

Snowboarding on the road like this is more than just a hobby, it becomes part of your identity, similar to many other extreme sports, where those who are truly involved live a very alternative lifestyle and spend a large majority of the time just about getting by in any means necessary whether it be sofa surfing, staying and working in lodges or the golden goose which is a job that can provide free accommodation next to the beach/mountains, and it become liberating not having to worry about building up any possessions or even commitments because you will not be in one place long enough to make any lasting markings and the last thing you want to be doing is carrying a bunch of shit around with you.

But with that comes lots of time and potentially damaging sacrifices to other areas of life to continue to be a part of the lifestyle, and before you know it, you are no longer the young pup with the world ahead of you, and life can catch up to you hard especially when you start to run out of fallbacks if your season comes unexpectedly crashing to an early end.

Every person who drops in on a freeride line will tell you a deeply profound and introspective life story worthy of a personal autobiography, what does it say about the psyche of somebody ready to charge into a 800m descent for what could be the final time on earth as if it was a stroll in the park. I feel this is a part of my persona which many people do not fully understand about me, Admittedly I am quite introverted and I do not use my past experiences as a way to promote my character, but these days in society people look at your current circumstances and judge based on how materially well you are doing in life and very rarely do people have the patience to listen to your story.

The problem is that outside of snowboarding and touring, the longer I pursued the lifestyle the more I started to feel disconnected from life back home, I found it very hard to associate with people doing the typical 9-5 type lifestyle, and thinking back, some of my strongest friendships have been with people who were defiantly alternative and I guess socially distant from the usual daily lives.

I still sometimes find it difficult to adjust the pace of life 10 years later, and find it very hard to find anyone who can relate to the lifestyle which I used to live, and a part of this will always remain inside me, the need for adventure and risk, which goes at odds with people who have been building a life of security and stability, those two words which very few extreme sports enthusiasts can associate with on a daily basis. I have faced imposing peaks and conquered them, 9-5 feels like living life in slow motion, how can you go back to the mundane when you have pushed your mind and body to the absolute limit, seen life and death flash before you, found a balance within yourself that people spend their whole lives looking for.

When I left the sport, I knew it was the right time, and was adamant to focus on the next phase and chapter of my life, however, emotionally, I was always battling the demons inside telling me to return back. I've heard and read articles in the past about the psychological imbalance of leaving extreme sports behind, it can mentally destroy you, some leave due to physical injuries, others left for personal reasons, competitive athletes can simply bow out out of the sport to make way for the younger and more agile counterparts, but many struggle to find a replacement to fill that void, and it can consune your life searching for those moments again.

I loved snowboarding, it was the defining physical and mental challenge in my life which pushed me to my limits and demanded me to be at my very best because mistakes lead to consequences and the fine line between this world and the next. Risk and fear was all part of the game, the biggest hurdles were the mental ones, trekking and navigating treacherous terrain for hours on end just to be in a position to make that call to drop into a scenery of nothing but remote wilderness, silence and untracked snow in front of you. I was always equipped with avalanche transceivers and avalanche gear, but every freerider is aware that you drop in and roll the dice. Some of the best in the sport are no longer with us, and it is a very real reminder of your own mortality, these are the same people who have conquered the almost impossible and inspired me and others to push our limits and explore the unknown, but the risks are very real and nobody is bigger and stronger than nature itself. The one mountain which always gravitated towards me for the sheer reputation of it was La Grave overlooking La Meije in France, a folk legend in itself amongst freeriders, but alas I never did manage to visit during my time in the sport.

I met my own limits during my final freeride trip, I took a near fatal fall down a remote Norwegian fjord, almost consigned to my fate, somehow I summoned my final strength to self repel and ride out at the very last second, but the moments before this I was slipping down an icy face heading for a cliff into a rocky abyss, I knew after this moment I had used all my cats lives in this sport.

I've had near fatal misses before, I've slipped down cliffs, rolled down rock faces and required surgery to stitch myself back together. I've also slammed my back so badly I couldn't stand properly for nearly an entire year and was convinced I had broken my back and the Doctors were overlooking it, this had a psychological toll on me during this time, but the slide down the icy face of the Lofoten mountains was a poignant reminder that perhaps it was time to consider just how far I had come and how much life to still embrace outside of the mountains.

I went into Lofoten mountains touring adventure questioning how many times I could realistically do this type of trip again in the future given my personal financial circumstances and just how much I had compromised back home to enable me do it, living basically isolated in the remote highlands and working hard through the years to build up funds. The fall was the awakening path which changed my direction from here on.

I had a good friend who worked with me in the highlands who told me one day whilst we were in the bar that he was involved in a motocross incident which broken his back and he was unable to safely ride again. Motocross was his life, but there was still more life to live and he recognised that his riding time was up, but he didn't see it as defeat, but as a second chance to start a new life in a new direction, this was a wake up and indicator for me to listen to intuition and make a decision before it is made for me.

I am not from a privileged background, I do not have wealthy parents, a strong career etc but I just followed a path which brought me happiness and a sense of identity and personal strength. The most interesting thing about my background is that I grew up in the Mountainless city of Manchester in the United Kingdom, with the nearest mountain resort being a 6 hour journey. I started the sport after first learning to ride at the dry ski slopes in Rossendale and Sheffield Ski Village and then progressed to the mountains of Aviemore in Scotland and eventually made a full time move up to Scotland to pursue the outdoor lifestyle and my competitive ambitions. I recognise that I was privileged to be in a position to have the time and flexibility to be be touring Europe with a snowboard, not many people can honestly say they would ever experience this in their lives, let alone visit such unique and incredible places in the world, but as mentioned earlier, I sacrificed other parts of my life to achieve these goals.

The views at the top of those mountains were absolutely stunning, otherworldly even, I felt I was looking out over the edge of the world, How could I ever have imagined to be standing in such a place and come so far in the years since starting the sport. The only way to even progress at this sport was to dedicate a large part of my life to it, and there I was standing 1300 metres above ground in the far wild north overlooking the Arctic sea as my final call.

Before our final descent of the Lofoten trip, I said to my friend damo, this is it for me, the end of this chapter of life, not just the end of the trip, but the end of a journey, normally Damo would have inspired me with other travel ideas to convince me otherwise, but I could tell he knew I meant it this time, and we literally rode into the arctic sunset which was perhaps the most perfect fitting end to the most incredible part of my life.

I actually started writing as a means to document my travels when i was much younger, and the experiences of a backpacking trip to Cambodia when I was 21 years old changed me as a person, and it was my first experience of seeing the world through such a vivid transparent lens of inequality and injustice. During my finals days in Cambodia, I visited the killing fields in Phnom Penh, I've been to many places in my life, but i don't think anything will ever match the emotional pain and sadness of visiting such a place like this, but yet the people have moved forward and created a modern day Cambodia despite an unimaginable time of suffering. During this visit my mind just could not comprehend how the locals have been so strong, whilst there are people living in much easier circumstances across the world who are so selfish. I made a vow to myself after that trip to focus on advocacy for humanitarian issues wherever possible, and it would lead to the next chapter of my life.

Fast forward to today and I've spent the last 8 years helping hundreds of people find their own balance and happiness in life, I set out what I said I was going to do when leaving the sport, I stopped what could be seen as a very self serving lifestyle to give back to others in a way as thanks for whoever was watching over me to give me a second chance to do this.

Life of course these days is much slower, but I've also not had any desire to return back to the sport because I believe it was the right time and the right choice. I did find solace in being back around the sports community for quite a few years after. I moved from Scotland and returned back to Manchester but I felt like a complete stranger in entirely different world again completely detracted from the city life, So I made the decision to risk all or nothing and move further down south to the surf town of Newquay in Cornwall to be in an environment which was best suited to the outdoors sports lifestyle I had been used to for many years, and I was very lucky to be working directly on Fistral Beach. I am also a keen wild swimmer but surprisingly was never all that interested in surfing despite the opportunity on my doorstep, however, surf towns bring interesting characters and I enjoyed my time and it allowed me to reflect on the next stages of life.

As time went by, the surf town lifestyle appeal fades. I was going out to live music nights and the clubs every few nights and was enjoying the social side that I had missed whilst living in the remote mountains, however, Surf towns can make and break a person, people come and go, years go by, time can stand still at least until the summer season starts over again, and the people you knew can change as a result, and it can change you for better or worse. I reached a stage where I was spiralling and bored and needed a bit more focus and direction in my life, I eventually set my path on transitioning away from the town and getting back to focusing on a humanitarian career pathway.

I have just started windsurfing at 36 years young, and ironically boards have come back into my life, so it is quite an exciting but there is no emphasis on turning it into a full time lifestyle.

The years of my experiences meeting people and discovering places through sports has played a pivotal role in shaping my humanitarian career, learning about life and finding a holistic balance which is transferable in the approach to helping others.

I am not the finished article, and far from an example of how to follow life by the book, but I've lived a story to tell and continue to progress forward, discovering and learning, and being open to the unknown.

Life is full of challenges, but we all hope to find our true calling and happiness, whatever path you choose.