The Night Before

There’s something about the night before a big day that always feels like a strange cocktail of nerves, hope, and mild chaos. Today was one of those days, the sort of “day-before” where you make grand plans for rest, preparation, and maybe a little inspiration… and end up chasing Wi-Fi, sandwiches, and your own redundant bowel instead.

People keep asking me how I feel about what’s coming. Truth is, it’s not an easy question. On the one hand, I want to say something inspiring and polished. On the other, the honest answer involves less Rocky-style training montage and more… dehydration, dodgy internet, and a stubborn body that doesn’t quite want to cooperate.

The day started with medication doing its best impression of a chocolate teapot. Add in yesterday’s poor hydration and a late night, and I was already playing catch-up before I’d even had breakfast. (Pro tip: don’t start your day in “negative hydration mode.” Your body will not thank you.)

By mid-morning, I’d had a lovely chat on BBC Radio 5 Live, which was a real highlight. But before I knew it, it was 2 p.m. and time for filming. In my head, that would take about an hour. Reality check: 3 and a half. Filming is a bit like IKEA, you go in thinking “this’ll be quick,” and suddenly it’s dark outside and you’re hungry, grumpy, and questioning your life choices. But its really worth it. There is nothing I wont do for Childfund-rugby.

My lovely wife, Cat, swooped in with sandwiches from Waitrose when I was on the verge of collapsing into a hanger-induced coma. Honestly, sandwiches have rarely tasted so heroic.

The team were brilliant: Joel, Meg, Hallie, and of course Cat herself. Still, pain has a way of stealing your words and I found myself forgetting questions mid-answer, sounding (in my head, at least) like a complete plonker. Later, during Cat’s fantastic interview, I was sidelined with one of the worst pain flares I’ve had yet. Luckily, everyone’s attention was on her (where it should have been), and it slipped under the radar. Small mercies. Rolling about is not something that inspires confidence!

By the evening, I’d managed a little food, a little Netflix (hello, Lioness), and a lot of wishing I’d had time for my usual pre-event inspirational film list. (No Rocky… I know. Gutted.)

Now it’s 9:45 p.m. The alarm is set for 5:30 am. I feel tired, underprepared, and not remotely at 100%. But maybe that’s the point: you don’t need to feel ready to be ready. I’ll carry with me the blessing ritual we were gifted by Meg, which is a custom in Laos. Those incredible orange and red strings tied around my wrist and chair, and the reminder that luck, energy, and strength sometimes come from places you don’t expect.

Tomorrow it begins.