Jeju Super Cup kicks off today and the beach is already chaos — 150 riders, more flags than I can count, and I haven't even rigged yet. Bet you'd rather watch me than the starting list.
Jeju Super Cup kicks off today and the beach is already chaos — 150 riders, more flags than I can count, and I haven't even rigged yet. Bet you'd rather watch me than the starting list.
Home for the first time in weeks and the only thing I unpacked was the guitar. Still can't tell if my hands are shaking from the competition or the chords. Stay and listen?
Gökova is still ringing through every nerve and this little room has already seen everything I couldn't hold back. Want me to show you too?
Made it to Wissant and the whole coast is already vibrating. Threw myself on the bed and every piece of clothing I brought is still on the floor. Tell me what you'd do if you opened that door.
WOO Worlds is calling and the wind chart is already living rent-free in my head. Can't sit still, can't be bothered to put real clothes on — dare you to tell me to settle down.
The Fortaleza downwind is close enough to taste and training left me with nothing on but the shorts I can't be bothered to peel off. Tell me you'd keep your hands to yourself if you walked in right now.
Booked the flight to Brazil and my body went straight back into training mode without asking me first. Tell me you'd be able to keep up.
Three weeks away and the tomato plants somehow survived without me — bare feet in the dirt, trying to remember what stillness feels like. Tell me what you'd grow if this garden was yours.
The Foilwave finals just ended and my body hasn't figured out it's over yet. This little rental room in Klitmøller isn't big enough for all this energy — tell me you'd help me burn it off.
The whole beach packed up and left and I'm still here in the van with nothing on but sand. Dare you to knock.