Cancer Prevention is the most sustainable and effective way to reduce the human and financial burden of cancer.

Cancer is the #1 killer in Australia. Two in three Australian men and one in two Australian women WILL be affected by cancer by the age of 85.

I know what you are thinking... "This is just a statistic. Cancer happens to other people."
I thought the same way too.

What if I asked you to raise your hand if you know someone who had cancer, maybe is currently dealing with cancer or passed away because of it. In your immediate family, extended family, friends, work colleagues, the community of people you know and interact with regularly.
What if I asked you to raise the other hand if you can think of somebody else who had cancer, or is currently dealing with cancer or passed away because of it. In your immediate family, extended family, friends, work colleagues, your community.

What if I ask the same question in a room with hundreds of people.
How many hands do you think would be up?

Visualise this for a second.
Cancer has already happened to all of us.
​
... The thing is that it's also estimated that as much as one-third of all cancers could be prevented by simple lifestyle choices, mainly around nutrition, physical activity, alcohol consumption, and smoking. Prevention means not getting cancer ourselves in the first place, and therefore removing it also in our family and community.
Prevention speaks for taking back responsibility to outrun cancer.
That's what I believe in and we run for today.

​Don't offer help if people haven't asked for it.

In most cases, when unsolicited offers of assistance are given, especially when they're heavily influenced by personal opinions on how someone else could improve or change, they tend not to have lasting impact. Regardless of the context - whether it's related to work, family, general interactions, or involving people of different age groups — it often falls flat.

True change must come from within. So does commitment and drive. No amount of external motivation or even handholding can replace that. And, frequently, well-intentioned attempts can backfire.

So, is it worth attempting to help others? Should we hold back from stepping forward in case we're not welcomed? I'm not entirely sure. I believe in striving for a balanced approach - one that empowers us to share our thoughts, experiences, skills, time, and passions openly with others.

I hear the whispers of change in the wind.
There's a promise of transformation and new beginnings.

​The wind carries the story of my evolution and growth, reminding me that stagnation is merely a fleeting moment. And I welcome the wind bringing me the energy and the belief I need to reshape horizons and create a future filled with endless possibilities.

I find it intriguing that I'm more in tune with the elegance of movement now, after 15 years of running, where my focus was often fixated on the end goal. 
This morning, I deliberately connected with the way my body flowed through the hilly mountain bike trails. I observed every nuance. I sought out the rhythm in my stride by consciously easing into a more fluid motion, replacing my tendency for jerky movements. I leaned into curves like a motorbike hugging a track, tackled ascents and descents with poise and momentum, and refined my foot positioning for alignment and grace in each step, from touch-down to liftoff. 
Staying present demanded all the effort I could master.

And when my mind drifted, it wandered into questions like, "What if I had spent my early years simply honing the art of movement in running? Could I have become a faster runner? More graceful, perhaps? Would injuries have plagued me less? What about my longevity as a runner?"
"Is it too late to cultivate those subtle, foundational skills that culminate in exceptional running form?"

Definitely not. It's never too late. 
In fact, this might just be the perfect time for me. As I grow older, the significance of outcomes shifts, taking on a different dimension. 
This offers room to relish simple pleasures, like running with a sense of fluidity and flow.

​Balancing it all is a daily challenge that can be quite draining. Even the tiniest disruptions, like a sick child or a leaky tap, can easily throw me off track. After enduring this for days, weeks, or months on end, it's no wonder that feeling overwhelmed becomes all too familiar.

For the longest time, I've accepted this as the norm, believing there's no alternative way to live. I've grown accustomed to thinking that taking on more and more is the sole route to achieving something meaningful. I've been on autopilot for so long that I hardly notice the pattern anymore.

But today, I'm going to set a new rhythm for the day. I'm consciously choosing to say NO to at least three things I'd typically say YES to – whether they're genuine requests from others or simply my own inner voice. Let's see what unfolds from here.