Infinite Trails: Running, Crewing, and Community

Infinite Trails: From Healing to Reflection

Last year, Infinite Trails marked a turning point in my life. After a life-changing injury and a series of surgeries ended my international rugby career, I was left with scars—both physical and mental. Running became my way of rebuilding, of proving to myself that this wasn’t the end of my story.

But Infinite Trails gave me something far greater than running alone ever could. It gave me everything I’d once had in rugby—a sense of purpose, a team, a community. And it left me with a feeling I can only describe as healing. That experience opened my eyes to a new world: a passionate community and a deeper connection with the mountains I had always loved. My journey in trail running can very much be defined as before and after that moment.

This year, I returned to Infinite Trails with Black Trail Runners and adidas Terrex. But this time, I wasn’t running. I was crewing for a team of new runners—each with their own reasons for being here, each about to experience the magic of Infinite Trails for themselves. And that, more than anything, defined my experience this year: people.

Discovering the Power of Crewing

At first, I worried I would feel like I was missing out by not running. But as the days unfolded, I realised I wasn’t missing anything at all. Because for me, it’s not only about the act of running—it’s about what running gives me: connection, purpose, community. Being part of something bigger than yourself. Crewing gave me all of that in abundance.

Nothing could have prepared me for the emotional rollercoaster of crewing. The nerves, the excitement, the tears, the elation—it was intense. Having competed at a high level in rugby, I’m usually good at regulating my emotions, keeping the bigger feelings in check until the job is done. But here, it was different.

As a crew member, I wasn’t just managing my own emotions—I was absorbing those of three different athletes. Their nerves, their joy, their pain—I felt it all with them. Without the distraction of competing myself, there was nowhere to hide. It left me more emotionally vulnerable than I expected, but also incredibly privileged to share in their journeys.

It made me question something deeply personal: do I always need to regulate so much? Or can I allow myself to fully surrender to the emotions that rise in sport? Because sport has this unique power to draw emotions out of us in ways we don’t anticipate.

The Shared Journey

We chased our runners around the course on e-bikes—cheering, encouraging, snapping photos, tracking their progress obsessively. We willed the dots forward, panicked when they stopped, and felt waves of excitement when they sped up. What struck me was how layered my emotions were. I felt the supporters’ anxiety and joy, but also the athletes’ perspective—because I’d been in their shoes before.

And beneath it all, I understood something important: those emotions had always been in me. I’d just never given myself permission to fully feel them. When I compete, the race itself acts as a shield—a distraction from the depth of emotion bubbling underneath. Crewing stripped that shield away and forced me to sit with it all.

Healing, Emotion, Reflection

Maybe that’s why this experience has hit me even harder. Running this race gave me healing. Crewing it gave me emotion and reflection. Both have given me a deeper connection to the community and the mountains that continue to shape who I am becoming.

Infinite Trails has been a reminder that sport isn’t only about performance or personal achievement—it’s about connection, vulnerability, and the shared human experience. And in that, I’ve found a new way to grow.