What do Itching, Rugby, Rocks and Prince William have in common?

So, here we are again. Midnight has struck, I’m still awake, and insomnia or painsomnia has clearly decided I’m its favourite late-night companion. It’s been over two weeks since my event, and in that time I’ve not managed a single solid night’s sleep. Blame it on leg pain, flares, peri-menopause chaos, or just the universe’s questionable sense of humour, take your pick.

The strangest part? My leg actually kicks off more when I’m not training. Counterintuitive much? Hopefully my consultant can explain why my body seems to follow the logic of a bad sitcom.

Night-time is a real circus: itching like I’ve got fleas, 1 am baths, slathering myself in creams, antihistamines doing absolutely nothing, and me lying there, wide awake, wondering whether HRT is worth the gamble of its side effects. Spoiler: I hate medication. I’ve been on pain meds for over a decade (hello, tramadol and other not fun opiates... my not-so-friendly companions), but I avoid upping the dose because while it might help all but the CRPS, it also flattens me, dulls training, and makes me feel like someone else entirely.

On any given night, my pain lineup looks like this:

• CRPS pain: a solid 8/10 baseline
• Nerve pain: usually 6–8/10, but likes to spike
• Fibro, migraines, prolapsed disc, abdominal drama: anywhere from 6 to “why am I still conscious?”
• Bonus flares: 10/10, the kind where you briefly consider that medieval pain scales might’ve been more honest

So yes, insomnia isn’t exactly shocking.

But, because life loves a plot twist, amidst all this, I had an incredible day.

Yesterday, I got a message from the brilliant Sarah Massey at World Rugby, asking if I was going to the match. Next thing I know, I’m in a hospitality suite, with my name on the door, enough food to feed a small army, and Theresa, Hallie, Paul, Niko, Becky, Abbey and Cat, my incredible wife by my side. We watched Canada beat Scotland and Fiji triumph over Wales in a double-header that had me cheering like a loon.

Oh, and did I mention Prince William popped by? Okay, not to see me, he was in the box next door, and the place went full lockdown whenever he moved, but he did wave after our lot shouted loud enough. Casual!

The best part wasn’t even the rugby (though it was brilliant), but seeing my friends have such a great time. They’ve been absolute rocks for me this past year, through the roughest patches, through the event last year and the people that totally broke me down... and to share this with them felt right. They deserve every bit of joy.

I’ll admit, the whole thing stirred up my usual imposter syndrome. Growing up, achievements weren’t exactly celebrated in my family. Talking about myself usually earned me a telling-off. So when lovely things like this happen now, my instinct is to feel awkward, like I don’t deserve it. But then I look at my friends smiling, laughing, soaking it all in, and I think: actually, maybe I do, because I get to share it with them.

So yes, I’m writing this at 1:30 am, still in pain, still itching, still wide awake. But I’m also smiling, because yesterday reminded me that alongside the chaos, life has these sparkling, surreal moments that make it all a little easier to bear.

Monday, im back to full training and I cant wait!