Anna: My guest today, Jak Fantastic, has been kayaking for over 30 years, first getting on the water at just six years old. Born with severely clubbed feet, she struggled with walking and found traditional sports inaccessible, but kayaking became both her freedom and her foundation. As a teenager, she joined the GB Freestyle Team, competing internationally, before serious injuries and illnesses in her early twenties led to multiple surgeries and doctor’s advice that she would never kayak again. Defying her prognosis, Jak returned to the water in 2018, initially while unable to walk, and went on to regain mobility and compete again at the highest level, including the 2023 Freestyle World Championships and podium finishes at World Cups and British Championships. Following a leg amputation in 2025 in the hope of improving her mobility, she was back in a kayak before her wound had fully healed. Today, a year after her operation, she continues to take on remote expeditions, particularly in India, while advocating for greater inclusion in whitewater sport. Jak is driven by a simple ambition: to keep exploring, pushing limits, and redefining what resilience looks like on and off the river. Thanks for being here, Jak.

Jak: Thank you so much for having me.

Anna: I’m going to start with the same question I ask all my guests. When I say discomfort zone, what does that mean to you?

Jak: Knowing I’d be asked this, I did some note-taking and made a big mind map of everything that discomfort was, and I came to the conclusion that discomfort to me is life. So many things I do are painful in some way — mentally, physically, everything is mixed up with that pain. So life is discomfort. It doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it. It doesn’t mean I don’t love it. But everything is slightly uncomfortable. Even when you’re resting — I don’t have rest that doesn’t hurt. Even lying in bed, there’s pain, and I’m used to it, and it doesn’t take away from anything. It’s a bit Buddhist, you know, the circle of suffering. Life is suffering, but it’s also joy.

Anna: When you say it’s a bit Buddhist, do you turn to Buddhist principles? What are your strategies? Because it’s obvious that even though life is discomfort for you, you are not letting that bring you down. What has you move through life with joy in the face of it?

Jak: I think I’ve always felt that you don’t get another hand of cards just because yours sucks a little. You have to play the hand you’re dealt. You don’t get to say this is unfair, I want something else. So there’s always been that — you just have to keep buggering on. When I was younger it was harder. I didn’t have strategies. I’ve been doing yoga for about six or seven years, maybe a bit longer. But I really resisted the mind stuff. I just wanted it to make my body better, to stretch, to be able to move a bit better. When I got back into kayaking, I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t reach the floor. I thought, this is awful, I need something better. And then in the last two years I started meditating, started doing breathing work. I did a full Vipassana — 10 days silent retreat — which I think counts among one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and I’ve done some hard things. So there’s that space now in my brain where I can sit with feelings and ride discomfort a lot better than I did in my younger days.

Anna: You said you have to play the hand you’re dealt and you can’t just live in the “this is unfair.” Did you at one point live in that space, and is it the meditation that helped shift that? Because I think what you’re saying is very powerful for people.

Jak: Definitely. I had a lot of problems growing up. All I did was kayaking, because I couldn’t run around with other kids or do other sports. It was kayaking all the time, and I got very good at it very quickly. That became so tied to who I was — how well I was kayaking was how well I thought I was worth. I was on the GB team from 14. Then at 19 I started getting hip problems. Hip dysplasia — my hips didn’t fit together right. I was in pain going to my favorite freestyle spot and putting my hip out trying to do moves. I was stuck in the system waiting for an operation, and I couldn’t paddle. That was the start of a long sequence. I didn’t paddle for eight years and I did slip into a real dark time, because when that’s been your whole life, I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t have that drive. I didn’t travel. I was stuck in a medical nightmare, unable to work. I broke my back. I was a carer. You have all your basic identities stripped away. Kayaking had become so painful, and I’d had some very unpleasant experiences within the sport — outside of the boat. The whole thing became so anxiety-inducing and upsetting that I was kind of glad to put it to one side. I don’t think I really knew how deep in my soul that wound was, that I was always a kayaker. It was only when I got back that I realized. And I nearly didn’t go back. Someone I hadn’t spoken to since I was 17 invited me for a surf, and I thought — nobody’s invited me anywhere for years. Do I want to be the sort of person who says no and never goes anywhere ever again? As soon as I got back in that boat, I realized it was my happy place. I’d thrown the baby out with the bathwater. Now, having had that experience, I am so motivated to keep kayaking in my life because I know what it’s like when it’s not.

Anna: What does that process look like for you mentally? Do you have daily practices for keeping your body able to kayak?

Jak: On a day-to-day basis I don’t have a set routine because my body is so temperamental. Some days I can’t even sit to meditate — I lie down if I have to. But over the week there are things I try to do. Post-amputation I couldn’t do anything for eight months, and for the first time in my life I felt really weak. It was hard to build back from that. So I joined the gym and I’ve been swimming for a while — I try to get at least a gym session and a swim every week. And I try to do yoga most days. If I can’t do a long session, or even 10 minutes, I try to do three minutes. I’m a bit ADHD and I read that anyone can do three minutes, and once you’ve done three minutes you might feel like you can do a bit longer. So it’s a very low barrier to entry. I don’t even get the mat out some days because that can feel like too high a barrier — I just get down on the floor and do the bare minimum stretches if nothing else. But I also find it really important not to beat myself up on the days I can’t do that. That’s just where you are today. You’ve got to meet yourself where you are.

Anna: I tell my clients the same thing — it’s better to do three minutes of yoga several times a week than go to an hour class once a week. Consistency is key. Does swimming feel good for you?

Jak: Weirdly I was never a very good swimmer because I had so many operations as a kid and always had plasters on my legs, so I missed all the swimming sessions. By the time I was kayaking I was in the water all the time but never actually learned to swim without a buoyancy aid. I got into it a few years ago — I live in a beautiful part of North Wales and we’ve got some lovely lakes. My best friend was putting on a bit of weight and I thought, he’s not going to fit in a boat if this goes on. So I bought us both wetsuits and we started going in the lake. He’s a really good swimmer and I sort of learned from YouTube. I’ve really gotten into it, especially after the amputation. Every time I drove past the lake I just wanted to dive in. It is a bit different with the amputation because I couldn’t really kick before — but being weightless, feeling the water. More water is always better.

Anna: Water has such healing properties. When you talk about meditation, you said you resisted it for a long time. What did you resist about it?

Jak: I’ve always been an overthinker, an anxiety bunny. My head has always been the place I don’t want to be. I want to escape it — doom scroll, entertainment, anything. I don’t want to sit with my thoughts. My thoughts are the enemy. In yoga, when we’d do the lying down at the end, I would make a shopping list, anything to look like I was doing it properly without actually doing it. My friend says a lot of people claim they’re too stiff for yoga, and that’s like saying you’re too dirty for a shower. I think “too mental for meditation” is the same thing. It’s definitely nicer now that I can be alone in my own brain for a bit.

Anna: There’s actually a study where people were given the choice of sitting alone with their thoughts or receiving electric shocks, and the majority chose the shocks. Was there a breakthrough that made meditation click for you?

Jak: Like so many good and amazing breakthroughs in life, it was really powered by grief. The Christmas before last, I lost a really good friend and my dog, who I’d had for 13 years. I was broken. To cheer myself up, I booked a flight to India six days later. It was my first solo trip — I’d always taken my best friend Dave, who knows everyone and has been going to Asia for years. It was a big thing to suddenly abandon that safety net. I had an amazing time. We did a yoga for kayakers retreat up in the mountains outside Rishikesh. There were loads of dogs, we did yoga, we went kayaking, and I succeeded in doing it by myself. People do look after me all the time, which gives you a brilliant view of humanity — if you’re a bit broken, people just jump in to help. And I was sitting there after everyone had left, and my mind did quiet. I had this sense of the wider world and that I didn’t need to be closed off to it. I thought — hang on, there might be something in this. All the stuff I’ve been ignoring might actually be the really important stuff. I find it hard to put into language what I experienced. On a previous trip I’d met a wonderful woman called Polly Green, and because I didn’t know what to do with what had been given to me, I messaged her. She said, maybe try Vipassana. And so that’s how I got into meditation.

Anna: You went right into a 10-day retreat. I’ve thought about it but I’ve never done one.

Jak: I do recommend it. I had managed to sit with my thoughts for five minutes and feel the universe, and then thought — let’s do 10 days of silence. I did go a bit crazy. It was a lot as a first meditation. But I wouldn’t swap it for the world, however hard it was, however many times I thought I was going mental. Coming out of it was amazing. It changed something in my brain — it dialed down all the anxieties. And they’ve been quite gatekeep-y about not having a leg, which makes me think they need a bit more meditation themselves.

Anna: You clearly have no problem jumping in and going all in. You love adventure. And yet, if you’re already in constant discomfort, what drives you to seek out more of it — Vipassana, expeditions, kayaking with everything that comes with it?

Jak: The things that hurt are usually the best things to do. Like cutting off my leg. I had a leg that didn’t work very well, but it was attached to me. It was causing problems with my hip and back that I couldn’t replace. To go through something as huge as that, as horrible as that was, with the idea that it would hopefully make me better — and nobody could confirm it would. The prosthetic might not be better than the twisted foot I had. It was a huge leap of faith, like a kayaking expedition. You don’t know what’s going to be out there. You don’t know how it’s going to be on the day. There might be a tree around the corner. It’s this hope and faith that it’s going to be worth it in the end. Getting there is always my hardest part — especially going to India. I went to Arunachal Pradesh at the start of the year, which was a huge trip for anyone. Three days of driving in uncomfortable trucks, then difficult access. But it takes you to the most beautiful places. It brings me such joy, and I just don’t know what else I’d do. If I lie in bed, I’m in pain too. I would rather be in pain somewhere beautiful, experiencing this planet and all the beautiful people and things there are. You can’t escape pain. The sooner you accept it and make friends with it, the easier it is.

Anna: How do you make friends with pain?

Jak: I fought it for so long — trying to push it down with alcohol, drugs, anything to numb it. But it doesn’t work. You can’t numb it forever. You have to sit with it, you have to feel it. When you really focus on it and spend time watching it, pain isn’t a fixed thing, however bad it is, and you can get used to it. Your brain is amazing — it can filter all these things, and usually it’s the one creating the pain. Since my operation I’ve been plagued by phantom limb pain, which is the classic amputation experience. It’s not real pain, and you know that — it’s your brain telling you these nerves should be connected to something. Pain should be a warning, but it can’t warn me that my leg’s going to get chopped off again. I know it’s chopped off. So I’ve done a lot of sitting with pain. The drugs they gave me after the amputation were horrible — they really messed with my brain. So I wasn’t on any painkillers for very long. I just thought, I’ll sit with this pain. Even though it’s there, it doesn’t define me. I’m not fighting it, I just let it wash over me, and you realise it’s not actually that bad.

Anna: I’m really struck by your courage and wisdom. The power of what you’re saying.

Jak: In a lot of ways I’m quite lucky, because I had to learn these things quite young — while you’re still flexible, while things can still sink in. I became very aware that my body was a precious resource quite young, and that protecting it and doing the things to help it was just part of life.

Anna: You mentioned some unpleasant experiences within kayaking outside of the boat. Would you be willing to share more about that?

Jak: I had a problematic time as a teenager in the early 2000s on the freestyle team. I had some very nasty experiences with boys in what was quite a toxic culture. At the last World Championships I went to as a teenager, a group of people hid a camera and recorded me having sex without my consent, then sent it around the kayaking community. For ages I would meet people and they’d say, “Oh Jak, I saw your video.” And I’d think — that’s underage, non-consensual footage of me. That’s not okay. At the time I didn’t see it that way. I had a lot of internalized shame. I was terrified. I still really don’t like kayaking parties. I did a survey a few years ago of how many women had been sexually assaulted in kayaking and I got some horrific stories. I do think it’s getting better, but slowly.

Anna: I’m sorry that happened to you. It’s uncomfortable to talk about, but nothing will change otherwise. I appreciate you sharing and being vulnerable.

Jak: I own it now. And that’s one of the reasons I was so proud to go back to Worlds. There were about 15 years between those experiences. I went back and did it on my own terms and had a brilliant time.

Anna: And you should be able to go to a party as a competitor, as a female kayaker, and not get harassed or abused. It’s not on us to not go. I think what’s changing it is women-led movements.

Jak: Absolutely. The sisterhood in kayaking is so strong now. I have friends all over the world — you find them, they’re your tribe. And everyone I know has had some sort of dodgy experience within kayaking, and the bonds are so strong because of it. We all lift each other up. I’ve never had such support as from my lady kayaking friends. They really make it worth it. And I think we’re slowly making it safer for the girls coming through the sport by being loud, by being there.

Anna: I’ve dedicated most of my career to empowering women in whitewater, starting in the nineties. I agree it is changing. I also think those of us who were in those rooms at the highest level in the nineties — we put up with a lot because we wanted to be there. We didn’t see another way. That has changed, thank goodness. And by continuing to show up, speak about it, and support each other — that’s what makes the difference. Someone once called me the “feminazi of kayaking” because I was speaking up. At the time I was rattled. Now I think — sweet.

Jak: This is my space too. I’m allowed to be here.

Anna: Jak, do you have a question for me?

Jak: I’ve been cracking my brains. So I’ve had this huge amputation, and my whole life has been moving toward it for three or four years, because it was going to give me bits of my life back. I can walk much better now, it’s still a slow process, but walking is easier. Kayaking is about the same. But I don’t really know where to go next. What do you do when you’re a bit lost and need a new direction? When you’ve got something so big and you don’t know what comes after?

Anna: That’s a big question. I think sometimes we have action bias — we feel like we need to do the next thing immediately. And humans are creative, which is what keeps us going and helps us create incredible lives. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with just being in the space, enjoying it, and being in wonderment of it. Where do you think you want to go? What comes up when you think about it?

Jak: I’ll probably go kayaking. It usually works. I’ve been binging your podcast and kept thinking of questions, and then someone would ask them and I’d be like, damn it. You combine so much of what I want to do, and I thought — maybe I should ask the random lady who’s appeared in my life what she thinks.

Anna: I can’t answer it for you, but I think you have so much to draw on from the meditation work. And I’ve seen your posts where you dress your limb up and do silly things — you have such a great sense of humor and so much joy. If I were to make a recommendation, it would be to stay in that space of celebration. Go kayaking. See what comes up. Keep getting curious about what’s next. I have no doubt you’re going to come up with something amazing. And it’s spring — the season of new possibilities. Everything is blooming. What a sweet time to be contemplating what’s next. The cool thing is, you’ve just been through a big operation, a big life change, a huge transformation. You’ve created space. That’s what we forget sometimes — if we want something new, we have to create the space for it to come in. You’ve done that. Sitting in that space, allowing it, will invite something new in.

Jak: Thank you. Slightly narcissistic to get some advice in while I’m at it.

Anna: That’s what I’m here for. Are you ready for some rapid fire?

Jak: Yes!

Anna: What is your favorite river metaphor?

Jak: I love the one you shared about life being like a wave train — you’re not just holding on when you’re up, the down is coming too. And when you’re down, take your moment there, because it’s coming back up. It always does. I also have a saying of my own: Dance Between Disasters. It’s the same idea. You’ve got to enjoy it while it’s going.

Anna: What’s a morning ritual that sets you up for success?

Jak: Trying not to doom scroll. Everything else in my life can be jettisoned in an emergency — on expedition I’ve even skipped drinking water because getting to a toilet with one leg is genuinely difficult. But not picking up the phone first thing makes a real difference.

Anna: What is a non-negotiable self-care practice?

Jak: Some movement. Especially when you’re in a lot of pain, it’s very easy for your body to collapse into itself — holding yourself in this fragile, protect-the-inner-core way. To consciously breathe that out and just move. It doesn’t have to be yoga. Just open your chest, your hips, those little movements while you’re walking around. It makes such a difference.

Anna: I herniated a disc this past year, and my morning yoga looks very different now. But I’d still call it yoga — I’m breathing mindfully, paying attention to the present moment. Any movement can become yoga.

Jak: When I started yoga I was so broken. I started because I dropped my phone and my 92-year-old nan went and picked it up because I couldn’t get down there. So my yoga at the beginning was almost just getting to the floor and lying on it for a bit. It was so basic, and yet it built to something so great — to me being able to kayak again. Everything is yoga, all day. Those little movements that keep you moving are so important.

Anna: What motivates you these days?

Jak: Having fun while I can. I’m aware I might not be able to do this forever. Maybe this is just a good stretch. Backs go, hips go — I’ll need a hip replacement at some point. Every day I’m not in a hospital I count as winning. And externally, I really want to make it easier for more disabled people to enjoy this wonderful sport that’s brought so much to my life.

Anna: What do people get wrong about you?

Jak: They think I’m confident and very sociable, when really talking to people gives me quite intense anxiety. I do a lot of hiding. Some of the enthusiasm is anxious energy and people think — oh, she’s clearly confident and can talk to anyone. Really I’m just a bit of a scared mess.

Anna: Throughout your life, have you felt like the underdog or the favorite?

Jak: Mostly the underdog. Even when I was mostly winning.

Anna: Hard moves in easy water or flooding?

Jak: It depends on the day, but I do love a flooded river. There’s one near me, the classic Grain Three in North Wales, and I’ve run it at silly high levels in a child’s playboat. That silliness is always good. And when you don’t want to do the scary stuff, stepping back and jumping in a ridiculous boat on something easy — I love that.

Anna: What word describes your comfort zone?

Jak: Ease. A quieted mind. I can’t control the pain, but I can control my mind sometimes, on a good day. Having that moment where you can just let it pass. Everything’s okay. Breathe.

Anna: Freedom through discipline or I do what I want?

Jak: I do what I want. I’m leaning into the ADHD. I have to do what I want when I want to do it. Strike while the iron is hot.

Anna: In one word, what do you hope your legacy will be?

Jak: Accessibility. Inclusivity. I’ve felt on the outside of a lot of spaces — bullied at school, and yoga at first felt very exclusionary because I couldn’t do the basic routines. Kayaking has been the same. Sometimes I’ve had no one to carry my boat to the river, just watching everyone else. It’s no fun feeling on the outside looking in. I want everyone to be able to do these things and feel like these spaces are for them. Everyone is welcome.

Anna: What would you say the whitewater community could do to make kayaking more accessible to disabled or differently abled people?

Jak: First we need to recognize the barriers. You can’t solve a problem if you don’t admit there is one. Look at the financial barriers — those are the easiest. You’re never going to make rivers totally accessible, it’s always going to require creative thinking, but I enjoy that. If we start looking at how to include disabled paddlers in mainstream competitive disciplines especially, that creates structure and community for people getting into the sport. And more participants help everyone — kayaking needs more people. My local river now offers reduced entry for disabled paddlers and allows us to bring a carer, which has made a huge difference for me practically. That kind of thing matters.

Anna: Thank you, Jak. I really appreciate you coming on and sharing what you shared today. Some really meaningful things in this conversation.

Jak: Thank you for asking me. With the old impostor syndrome, when I first read the invitation I thought — what, me? But I just said yes. That’s all you can do.

Anna: Sometimes that’s exactly what you’ve got to do.