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At the start of 2021, during an innocent walk around London’s Richmond Park, I inexplicably injured my ankle. Now, you may ask, “what were you doing Vic?” I was literally walking. “But you must have tripped or fallen, right?” Nope, I was just walking. “You didn’t roll it?” No, I reiterate, I was walking. How I wish I had a cool story to tell like I had a gnarly landing snowboarding or that I injured it fighting a Martian. But no, unfortunately, my life isn’t as exciting as that – especially during a pandemic.

And the months following the injury have been equally, if not more boring, as I attend MRIs, visit physios and hobble about on crutches (though I recently upgraded to a moon boot). As we rocket towards 2022, I find myself still unable to walk as the anniversary of the injury creeps ever closer. But a dim light is emerging at the end of the tunnel. A light that should hopefully see me back on my feet (literally) in the next few months – all being well. And I have big plans for next year.

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By Editor