SAILING HANNAH

The bid is in.

On paper, it looks confident. Polished. Strategic. It speaks about governance, growth, compliance, readiness. About structures, pathways, evidence, alignment. It reads like momentum – all backed by evidence and built in truth.

What it doesn’t show is the reality of what it took to get here.

Progress in Para sport rarely arrives cleanly or conveniently. It doesn’t come from neat timelines or unanimous support. It comes from persistence when things are fragile, from conviction when belief is thin, and from carrying responsibility long after the excitement has worn off. Para sailing hasn’t just grown in recent years – it has been pulled forward. Sometimes inch by inch, sometimes against resistance, sometimes against a silence that is just as heavy.

Programmes that now sit comfortably in strategy documents were once questioned, delayed, or labelled as too risky. Events that are now referenced as proof of credibility came dangerously close to being cancelled when they became inconvenient, complex, or uncomfortable. And yet – they happened. Not because it was easy, or comfortable, or perfectly timed, but because someone refused to let the work be undone.

What exists now – the events, the data, the structures, the confidence, did not materialise by accident. It came from turning up when support was limited. From holding lines that would have been easier to drop. From making decisions in moments where there was no safety net, no certainty, and no guarantee of recognition at the end. It came from believing that Para sailing deserved better than survival-mode thinking.

There were times when it would have been simpler to step back. To soften ambition. To wait for permission. To let “later” quietly replace “now”. To just “do the job” without doing the job. But inclusive sport doesn’t move forward when everyone waits. It moves because someone is willing to absorb the friction, the doubt, and the fatigue – and keep going anyway.

I don’t write this for sympathy. I write it for honesty.

If Para sailing is taken seriously today – if it is credible, visible, and ready to be assessed on merit, it’s because the work was done when no one was watching. Systems were built before they were celebrated. Athletes were prioritised even when that meant pushing institutions to move faster than they were comfortable with. Leadership in inclusive sport is not glamorous. It’s often lonely. It’s regularly exhausting. And too often, it’s invisible. Credit is usually delayed – if it comes at all.

But the impact is real.

And as this work leaves my hand and enters a process far bigger than any one person, I’m choosing not to minimise that journey – or my role in it. Not out of ego, but out of respect for what it actually takes to move a sport forward. Progress doesn’t happen by magic. It happens because people put their fingerprints on the work and refuse to wipe them away when things get hard.

I’ve earned the right to say that. And Para sailing has earned the right to be here.

Before I close this chapter, I want to say thank you – properly.

This work was never done alone, even when it felt incredibly lonely.

Thank you to Cat, who believed in me from the very beginning and in the need for a strategy and backed me when it was still just an idea on paper. To Megan, Larisa, Katrina and Rebecca – for always having my back, for the quiet check-ins, the steady support, and for reminding me I wasn’t imagining how hard this was.

To Betsy, David, Emma and the members of the Para World Sailing Committee – thank you for repeatedly telling me to keep fighting, to keep pushing, and for reinforcing that this was the right direction, even when the road got uncomfortable.

To Daniel, for helping me turn thoughts into words, pressure into clarity, and for always encouraging me to write with honesty and passion.

To Fiona and Scott, for (mostly) letting me get shit done and trusting me to carry this work in the way it needed to be carried.

I also want to say thank you to Stoggs and Dan for the advice, perspective, and steady guidance along the way. Having people you trust to help you think clearly, especially in the noisy moments, makes more difference than most realise. I’m very grateful for that support.

And to the sailors – thank you for the messages, the belief, the chocolate treats, the quiet encouragement, and the moments of kindness when I needed them most. Your trust in me to pull Para Inclusive sailing forward has meant more than you’ll ever know.

Finally – Leo. I could not have pulled all of this together without you. Your commitment, calm, humour, and sheer competence have been invaluable. You are incredible, and I truly hope you can continue to be part of the Para Inclusive department at World Sailing (even if it is a department of 2 :-)). This work is better with you in it.

Thank you – all of you for believing when belief wasn’t easy.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of pressing send on something that has taken years, not weeks. I’m carrying a level of exhaustion that’s hard to put into words – the kind that builds when responsibility, pressure, and belief sit on your shoulders for a long time. I don’t think I’ve fully processed what we’ve done yet, or the sheer volume of effort it has taken to get here. Right now, I can feel a crash coming, and I need to take care of myself before I try to analyse or celebrate anything. For the moment, I’m choosing to pause, let it settle, and acknowledge that this milestone mattered. Whatever comes next, this work was worth it, and I know in my heart that I have given everything and tried my absolute best.

Para Inclusive sailing is built by people who show up when things are fragile, who back athletes when systems hesitate, and who keep pushing when it would be simpler to scale ambition down to comfort. It is built in long days, late nights, difficult decisions, and moments where belief matters more than consensus.

It is built by those who chose to stay when walking away would have been quieter. By those who believed when support was thin. By those who did the work before it was popular and carried it through when it was inconvenient. Demanding, resilient, unapologetically committed to excellence not exception. It is not about perfection. It is about persistence. It is about refusing to shrink what is possible.

And if that makes the work harder, louder, or more uncomfortable – so be it.

Because this is what progress actually looks like.
This is what leadership actually costs.
And this is what it takes to move a sport forward.

This is Para Inclusive sailing.