Claire Huddart

My memories of university are varied but overwhelmingly happy, shaped by the constant juggling act of being both a student and a serious athlete at a time when the two weren’t especially well accommodated for. I vividly remember Friday afternoons at Woodies, dropping the rest of the HMS gang off there, before heading down to Leeds International Pool to train, only to return four hours later to find them still in exactly the same spot… just slightly worse for wear. There was our first-year dance performance too, immortalised (mercifully) on VHS that will never be forgotten. Conducting lactate tests on unsuspecting fellow students for dissertation purposes long before health and safety became a formal concept. I can still hear Doc Humphreys telling me I ran like a “pregnant duck”, feedback delivered with affection, if not subtlety. Through it all, though, what stands out most is how supported I felt: by staff who challenged me, friends who accepted my split loyalties, and an environment that, even if imperfect, allowed me to grow not just as an athlete or a student, but as a person.