One legged squat, left leg is weight-bearing. Posture should be as straight-backed as possible with head up looking forward. I have a tendency to lean forward from the hips as I get fatigued which is evident here in a slightly rounded back

When I first began rehab I was told that the one legged squat is the most useful exercise for recovery. That has certainly been the case and I have done a lot of one legged squats in all sorts of different formats. An easily achievable one is shown below. I can do three sets of squats where each set consists of 10 to 12 repetitions.

Right leg weight bearing. The one legged squat second movement. This not only strengthens the weight bearing leg but also stretches the hip flexor tendons in the non-weight bearing leg

The one legged squat at the starting position with one leg raised behind and all the weight bearing on one leg. Note the square shouldered upright position. Left leg here is weight bearing

It is important to try and touch the nonweight bearing knee almost to the floor in the squat before driving straight up with the weight bearing leg. Back must stay straight.

1) Increasing strength in the injured leg

2) Increasing confidence in attempting new and more difficult exercises

3) Return of balance when using the injured leg

4) Change in exercise methodology after changing trainers. For approximately the last six months I have had a male trainer, Paul Birtles, who took over after Belinda went to another job. While Paul continued the recovery work on my leg, he also identified other problem areas which needed attention viz:

• Chronically tight hamstrings and hip flexor tendons which I have always had but possibly exacerbated by the injury

• Stiffness and lack of flexibility in the lower back

• Constant stiffness and soreness in the shoulders and scapular caused by strenuous repetitive exercise i.e swimming.

He attempted to address all these issues with appropriate exercises while maintaining focus on my injured leg aimed at preparing me for skiing in early 2017. In the following post are shown some of the exercises at the 18 month mark.

In the second year of rehabilitation I spent 20 to 30 minutes on an exercise bike before each gym session. This was necessary to warm up muscles for the stretching exercises and more advanced gym program undertaken in the second year. Due to an old injury in my lumbar spine I found it difficult to achieve correct posture on the bike.

Paul showing how it’s done, with correct seat height, seat position and posture

Warming up on an exercise bike is the best way to avoid injury during a gym based rehab session, especially in the second year as the exercises get progressively more difficult

In essence I can:

• Walk continuously, climb up and down hills, climb up and down stairs and hike carrying a heavy backpack with no sign of pain or discomfort. I have tested my climbing ability on a very steep cliff near the Grand Canyon and found no noticeable difference in strength either going up or going down in either leg. There was no noticeable difference in fatigue in either leg
• Perform sophisticated gym exercises including heavy leg presses, one legged squats and numerous sets on a leg extension machine without any pain or excessive fatigue
• Perform exercises that require balancing on the broken leg while performing other exercises. My balance on the broken leg is now almost as good as on the unbroken leg although it has not recovered completely to where it was before the accident
• Get shoes and boots on and off with no difficulty or discomfort.
• Get comfortably on and off an escalator leading with either leg.

Most significantly, I am not in any pain. In this sense, being pain-free, I have made a complete recovery.

What I can’t do:

• Jog or run more than about 25 m e.g. running to catch a ferry. To do any more than this brings on severe pain in my knee
• Jump down from a height of one meter or more, landing with all my weight on the injured leg. This causes severe pain. I can do this easily on the unbroken leg.

What are the unknowns? The most significant unknown is whether I can ski comfortably again. I attempted skiing in January and February 2016 and was only able to ski
about half the days of the holiday and then in considerable pain. I did not ski during the Australian winter July to September 2016. The next effort will be a heli skiing
trip in Canada in January 2017 followed by several weeks in Montana and Idaho. I will not know until then whether all this has been worthwhile.

Still things could be worse. Except for the unknown in relation to skiing I have made, as near as practicable, a complete recovery from the accident.

This photograph was taken at 230 in the afternoon, in winter, by a professional photographer. He is standing with his back to the west with the sun coming directly behind him lighting the subject shot.

This is an extraordinary photograph. We would find it difficult to get a shot like this today. Note that the photographer is focused probably on either Margaret’s face or the trophy. Everything in that plane is in focus including the nun’s hands, her habit and her face. The clarity is extraordinary. I have blown this photograph up on my computer and there is not the least amount of pixelation even though I’m looking at only a 2 MB file. The detail around the crucifix is extraordinary, as is the writing on the trophy, which is clearly visible.

The depth of field does not include the boys’ heads in the foreground, which are slightly out of focus and the line of schoolgirls become progressively out of focus as you move into the background. He has achieved a fairly narrow depth of field which pops Margaret, the trophy and the nun out of the background. I imagine this photograph was taken at about F8 with a fairly sharp fast shutter speed, say 1/250. There is not the slightest amount of blur in this photograph. I doubt he would have been using a tripod which suggests a fast shutter speed.

I find the drama and colour of the nun’s habit and the stark black-and-white contrast most arresting. The composition also reminds me of Pieter Bruegel painting of a Dutch village full of people. Note the animated discussion underway between the two nuns in the background, one of whom has her hand raised, completely oblivious to the photographer. The nuns on the right, the line of children on the left and the spectators above, perfectly frame the subject matter, which is Margaret and the nun making the presentation. In fact, the pivotal point of this photograph is the trophy and the rest of the photograph revolves around it. I wonder if he did this on purpose or by accident.

Of historical interest Margaret’s father is sitting in the background at the top of the photograph in a dark jumper. This photograph is 50 years old and was not scanned on a professional flatbed scanner. It’s amazing how it has stood the test of time.

By way of contrast are some photographs I took on Thursday evening at Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week where I was allowed a guest pass as a photographer. This was the runway exhibition of Cynthia Rowley, a designer. I have never attempted this type of photography and found it extremely difficult. I was using a Nikon SB-700 Speedlight, set to automatic and I could not make the shutter speed fast enough to ensure crisp photographs nor the aperture wide enough to get a shallow depth of field. I found this very frustrating as it shows I do not know how to use the camera in flash mode properly. I did not have a power pack on the flash either which is a major impediment and is vital for this type of photography, where rapid multiple flash exposures are required. Also, the spotlights on the catwalk played havoc with the automatic light meter inside the camera. Much to learn. Still, it was a very interesting exercise and I’d like to try again.

I don’t know what this has to do with rehabilitation for a broken leg but it sure was fun.

Belinda Van de Ven – she who must be obeyed – suggested recently that it would be good to introduce some road bike work into the rehab programme as it is my second year. By sheer coincidence Ron Wilson, my good friend from the BBC and a great cyclist, invited me on a ride from Thirroul to Wollongong which he organises for a group of friends each year. I was reluctant as up until now I didn’t think I had the strength in my broken leg to twist out of the pedal cleats. Also, after my recent experiences, I’m wary of further injury and there’s always plenty of that on offer when riding road bikes. Still, given Ron’s invitation and Belinda’s advice and a desire to introduce something different into the rehab programme, I decided to participate. By strange coincidence, my brother Damien was staying with me, recuperating from his latest Ironman triumph and decided to join in.

With my brother Damien at Wollongong harbour before setting off on the return journey to Thirroul. I had not been on a road bike for many years and Damien was recovering from his 4th Ironman the previous weekend.

By good fortune, I’d left my cycling shoes – the ones with cleats – at home and had to do the ride in a pair of Sperry Hightop boat shoes. While it felt a bit ridiculous, it proved to be a godsend. I hadn’t been on a bike for many years and had forgotten the setup of the gears and derailleur so I struggled at first to get in the right gears. It didn’t matter because if I got confused I could stop, and in one case get off and walked. I didn’t have the added issue of twisting out of the cleats. It would have been too much on the first ride to worry about balance, the gears, the cleats, traffic and foot pedestrians. Don’t underestimate how difficult it is getting back on a bike after a broken leg. For one thing your balance is shot to pieces and your confidence is not much better.

The ride, which was over an easy bicycle/pedestrian path through beautiful coastal country took only two hours not including lunch.

And so it ends. With everything packed up and goodbyes said, I prepare to leave our Martin Place office for the last time with employees Sarah Gonzales and Ryan Crew Brown. Friday afternoon, May 6, 2016. My working life comes to an end.

One of the poignant things about packing up is going through all the old files and folders. Years of correspondence with clients, sharing with them the ups and downs of markets and investments, the good times and the dark days of the GFC, the struggles of their daily lives as represented by their finances. I also found the times sheets of both my daughters, Hilary and Catherine, when they worked for me years ago in the early days of the business. written in their own handwriting I could not bring myself to put them into the shredder and put the file back in the cabinet. It will come home with me and not go on to the new owners. Cleaning those out will be a job for another person at another time. Not me.

Well wishes received on my last day at work

“That’s very enlightened. If they exclude those people where do they get their graduates from? Must be tough here for a female Catholic,” I thought.

My career comes to a close as I sign a contract for the sale of my company Sirius Fund Management to a financial planning firm

So what does the future hold? I don’t know. Everyone tells me that I should have a plan. Well I don’t have one. I have a work out period with the new company getting the clients settled down, then I’m done. The only bigger change in your life than starting work is when you stop.

Sunrise Palm Beach Waiting for the boat to arrive from Barrenjoey

After I broke my leg in January 2015 and struggled through the attendant surgery, I decided that rehabilitation would require some goals. My goals after surgery were:

I have now achieved the first three goals I set myself in February 2015. The fourth goal still eludes me as I can’t ski aggressively on steep slopes without significant pain. Maybe that goal will be a bridge too far. The Palm Beach to Manly swim has caused me to reconsider goalsetting as part of rehabilitation. In fact, it’s caused me to reconsider goalsetting in the broader context of what we hope to achieve in life. In particular, what is an appropriate goal? We all have goals. They can be physical, such as the various challenges that Barry and I have taken on; They can be emotional, to be an exemplary father, husband, friend or all of the above or financial and career goals, which preoccupy most men, myself included, from a very young age. Men are very goal driven and I’m no exception. The easiest goal men slide into is the one described by the sentiment “we are what we do.”

After completing the Palm Beach to Manly swim I make the following points about goalsetting during rehabilitation:

The mistake I made was the setting of goals that were possibly fanciful or inappropriate. For someone my age to try and swim from Palm Beach to Manly, even as part of a duo relay team, is a big ask. I was fortunate that I had a swim partner who is very resolute and reliable in the water and expert help in the shape of Alex our kayak paddler and Denise Elder on the boat, who is herself, a very experienced long-distance swimmer. Ultimately, we were aided also by a perfect day with a gentle nor-nor easterly swell and a following wind. However, this goal would have been a challenge to me even if I had been uninjured and whether or not I was goalsetting as part of rehabilitation.

Goals 1,2 and 4 above are practical and reasonable, although hoping to do a long bushwalk in the Northern Territory carrying a pack only about four months after surgery was probably neither practical nor reasonable. That is a goal probably for the second year of a rehab program.

In relation to the swim that Barry and I completed, one of the great challenges was to set a training program that was appropriate for men over the age of 60 and that gave them sufficient stamina and endurance without injury. As it transpired, the training was  more problematic than the swim. We were extremely lucky to decide on one hour legs rather than our traditional half hour and 20 minute legs. This gave us plenty of time to recover. It was only after discussing the swim with my physiotherapist that she said the one hour break is appropriate for people our age because our recovery time is much slower and the one-hour legs discourage sprinting and aggressive lactic acid buildup in the muscles. There is much to be written about athletic goalsetting and training for people of mine and Barry’s vintage. It can be done, it’s just how it’s done in a safe and enjoyable manner. That is the predicament.

The burden of rehabilitation, particularly surgical rehabilitation, just makes the proposition that much more complicated.

Still, I’m glad that’s one I can tick off the list. Only one to go. I wish Barry could ski.

At 645am I enter the ocean at Palm Beach on a breathtaking dawn to begin the long planned swim to Manly

If at first you don’t succeed……….. Barry Feyder and I first conceived the idea of swimming from Palm Beach to Manly after completing the Lake Argyle 20 km swim in 2013 and a Bondi to Manly 14km swim in 2014. We swam both of these highly enjoyable events as a duo relay. When I suggested the swim to Barry late in 2014 it seemed a logical progression for both of us. He agreed but from then on it went pear-shaped.

Originally slated for March 2015, the event was postponed as I broke my leg, in Janaury. Various other ailments plagued us through the latter part of 2015, including a painful ulna nerve problem for Barry and cervical spine problems for me, possibly brought on by the training. An attempt in late Spring 2015 was abandoned. When finally we were set to go in March 2016 I developed a bad rotator cuff and Barry a sudden blood disorder. Hey, it wouldn’t be the Balmoral Beach Club unless people had ailments to share.

But finally on Friday April 29, 2016 we decided it was time to go. Palm Beach that Friday morning was an exhilarating moment for me. By tradition long-distance ocean swimming begins with your best swimmer off first. This certainly did not happen on this occasion as Barry very graciously offered me the chance to leave Palm Beach to open the batting. There was a gentle one metre swell rolling over the bar at Palmy with the beach deserted except for myself and some stalwart BBC members Adriana Feyder, Christine Beard and Brian Davidson. Brian and Christine are also directors of the Pain Management Research Institute, the charity we had chosen to support with the swim.

As I headed round the point, Alex Korjavine, our kayak paddler loomed up out of a blazing sunrise. Alex is our indispensable, go-to guy at the BBC when we need help. Long Reef appeared a long way south through the dawn sea haze.

“It’s going to be a long day,” I thought. I was encouraged by the gentle nor- nor easterly swell and the following breeze and the conditions certainly were benign.

We had decided on a plan for the swim that we had never tried before – one-hour legs. Usually it is half an hour or 20 minutes and this can be tough as recovery time in the boat is often frantic. We planned that each of us would swim two one hour legs, at the beginning of the journey.

The morning wore on and the swim unrolled as they often do as the rhythm of getting in and out of the water is established along with the on-board chores of hydration, electrolytes, food and energy gels. Our coach, Charm Friend, who had been with the journey since its beginning, was unfortunately unavailable but we had great assistance from another BBC supporter in Denise Elder. Denise was a constantly cheery presence on the boat and made sure that we were well looked after and passed messages back and forth between Barry and I.

“I thought the swim was very enjoyable and free of stress,” Barry said afterwards.

“Denise was very cheerful on the boat and I never felt any pressure. The boat skipper Alex Lefterescu was terrific. He took a good line, although it was much further off shore than we intended, mainly to get the boat safely around long Reef which sticks a long way out into the ocean,” Barry added.

Barry and I thought we might not be able to finish the due to our health issues, so we had Barry’s friend Robert Suares join us as a back-up swimmer. Fortunately, we didn’t need to call on Robert for help.

“Kieran was very worried about his shoulder, which he injured during our training and had doubts he would make the distance, but swam strongly the whole way.”

The turning point for me was my swim down to Long Reef. After that we seem to fly into Manly aided by the swell, which was picking up and the wind, which was now directly behind us. The skipper was an expert in handling the boat and giving guidance to Alex on the kayak. This sort of event should never be attempted unless the people involved know exactly what they are doing. No matter how hard the swimmers train, the event will fall apart without an experienced support group.

Finally, we pulled into Shelly Beach at 2:10 PM. A swim that was expected to take at least 10 hours ended up taking us 7h 25m. Personally, I was touched that when we stood up at Shelly Beach we were greeted by fellow BBC club members including English Channel swimmer Duncan Adams, Charm Friend, Brian Davidson, Tim Burnett and Shaan and Geoff Verco representing the Pain Management Research Institute.

We were joined at Manly Wine bar shortly afterwards for a wind down attended by BBC president Rob Johnson and a host of well-wishers, including Chris Webb, David Healy, Ron Wilson, John and Eve Bagnall. Mark Simkins, Heather Kent, Jan and Rowan Davies and Marg Carney. The ever-supportive Ian MacNamara and Lee Kelly from the ABC’s Australia All Over also turned up to wish us well.

Barry and I would like to thank our terrific support group, Charm, Denise, Alex Korjavine, Robert Suares, Adriana Feyder, Brian Davidson and Christine Beard. We could not have done this without your help.

At 24.5 kms, the route was considerably shorter than expected mainly due to the very direct line taken by the boat.   It took us 7h 25m – which is  18mins per kilometre or 3.3km per hour.  Water temperature was a relatively balmy 21°C. Alex paddled the whole way without a break – legend!

This is a day that I’d rather not have to endure and hope that no one else has to either. About three weeks ago I presented at Dr Havyrk’s rooms – he is a prominent bronchial physician – because earlier CAT scans had shown two calcified nodules – growths or tumours to you and me. Could be nothing; a result of infection or exposure to asbestos on the farm or two much dust or mouldy hay or animal manure on the farm. They even have a name for it – Farmer’s Lung. Farms are dangerous places apparently. If I’d told him how much 2-4-D and 2-4-5-T (Agent Orange which contains Dioxin and came to fame in the Vietnam War) I’d been exposed to as a kid he probably would have thrown me out of his office.

Anyway Dr Havryk says that because I’ve survived three melanoma the things in my lungs might be malignant and I need a Positron Emission Tomography scan (love that medical verbosity). It’s a specialised type of whole-body scan called a PET scan for short. They are trying to find if little bits of melanoma have broken off and gone wandering about in places where they shouldn’t such as brain, liver or lungs. Women who have endured breast cancer have the same problem. Both types of cancer survivors are particularly prone to cells wandering around in no go zones, many years after an apparently clear diagnosis, and getting way too comfortable there.

Anyway a PET scan involves injecting the patient full of radioactive juice and watching the results as it travels around the body. I won’t bore you with the details but essentially a bunch of radioactive isotopes are attached to glucose molecules and then shot into your blood stream. The active parts of your body – brain liver etc need a lot of glucose and glow luminosity as they use it up and leave the isotopes behind. Really, really active parts of your body like growing cancer cells, suck up an enormous amount of glucose and attached isotopes and glow like a Dresden searchlight during a bombing raid. The scan picks up the glow of the malignant little buggers.

Happy days. Officially radioactive – preparing for a PET scan at St Vincent’s Nuclear Medicine clinic.

Anyway I had a very stimulating discussion with a nuclear medicine specialist after I was injected with the glucose solution. He told me all about how the isotopes are generated (not from uranium) and how it is safe to inject such a deadly substance into a human being (short half-life of the isotope.) This was reassuring until he told me that under no circumstances should I approach a pregnant woman or a newborn baby within ten hours of the scan. Reason: you are highly radioactive. I asked him if I would glow in the dark. Probably, he replied. At least he had a sense of humour.

Anyway, as I was being driven home by the ever-reliable Margaret Carney, I received a call on my mobile from the nuclear medicine specialist. The bad news is I have 4 nodules in my lungs, not 2. I’ve got a regular little herbarium going on inside me. The good news is none of them are glowing which means they are benign. I will probably have to get this procedure repeated annually for the next few years. That’s all good I suppose. I’m really glad I’m retiring. I can’t deal with all this stuff and look for a house and work too. Way beyond that.