When people hear that I run a children’s sports club, they often assume I grew up playing every sport under the sun. The truth is the opposite. I enjoyed PE at school, but I never joined the teams. I didn’t have sporty friends and I never felt like the clubs were for me. I think if someone had invited me, really warmly and clearly, I would have done more. I just didn’t know I belonged there.
As an adult, movement found its way back into my life in different forms. Cycling has been a steady thread running through the last twenty years. Sometimes I’m on the trails, sometimes on the road, and sometimes barely riding at all, but the bike is always waiting for me. It’s one of the things I love most about it. No set time, no pressure, just a movement I can pick up when life allows.
CrossFit came later and marked a real turning point. It was the first time I felt properly strong. I learned to work deliberately on my weaknesses. I tracked my progress. I pushed myself. And I learned the importance of simply turning up, even on the days when I didn’t feel like it.
And then there’s unicycle hockey. I’ve been playing since 2009 and it’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t seen it. It’s challenging and absorbing and a break from everything else in my head. For a few hours a week, I’m not rushing through mum-life tasks. I’m just me. Trying hard, laughing, wobbling, and enjoying something fun and unusual.
Since becoming a mum, my workouts have changed completely. I used the running buggy through both girls’ early years, even though most runs looked like a mix of snack stops and dropped-toy retrieval missions. I set up a tiny gym in our shed so I can squeeze in something when I have ten or twenty minutes. And my eldest sometimes “works out” with me, although she mostly draws on my whiteboard.
My fitness looks nothing like it used to, but it still matters. Moving my body grounds me, gives me energy and reminds me that I’m more than just the busy parts of motherhood.
All of this shapes how I run Roarsome Sport. I don’t want children to feel like sport is only for the fast ones or the confident ones or the ones who already know what they’re doing. I want every child to feel like they belong. I want them to explore movement in ways that feel joyful. I want them to experience success, imagination, teamwork and silliness. I want them to know their bodies can do amazing things.
And for our SEND families, this philosophy matters even more. Movement doesn’t need to be perfect to be powerful. For many children, especially neurodivergent children, movement is regulation. It’s confidence. It’s connection. It’s a way of expressing themselves without words. It’s a space where they can lead, choose and feel safe.
As we head into December and the days draw in, it feels like a good time to reflect on the kind of sport experiences we want for our children. Ones that welcome them. Ones that build them up. Ones that make them feel like they belong.
I was never the sporty kid. Maybe that’s why I do this now.