Like many little girls, Jan Cameron loved to be near horses. Unlike them, she left school at 14, rode in her first race at 15, and went on to earn a living as a professional jockey with 650 winners around the world and become one of New Zealand’s most successful female riders. It comes as no surprise to hear that racing is a tough business.
“You have split seconds to make decisions, the pressure is immense, and if things go wrong, trainers flip their lids, owners lose their sense of humour, and the criticism starts to pile up. Big money and high risk can expose the dark side of people,” says Jan.
Her involvement with horses went way beyond riding them; she was involved with their well-being, injuries, rehabilitation and maintenance. Every day, she would look at their energy, the shine of their coat, the sparkle in their eyes, any signs that might present a problem.
Those of you who know Jan might have noticed she does something similar with people.
In 1996, she was flown back from Japan to ride an outsider – a mare called First Look – in the Winter Cup (the biggest mile race in the South Island). Rain had been forecast all week, but First Look had a big heart, and she loved the mud, says Jan. They won by a nose, and the celebrations were epic.
That night a friend asked her to fill in on the running leg of a triathlon the following day. And so, she wound up on the start line at 5am, in the freezing cold, hungover, wearing rugby shorts and an old shirt – much to the amusement of the sleek lycra brigade.
“Sleek but slow,” laughs Jan, “We won the women’s category and placed 8th overall.”
As a competitive person with a love of exercise, Jan was able to combine her hobby of triathlons and multisport with trackwork. “Days of running to work, riding out, and running home made me pretty fit,” she says.
On the flipside, injuries were a constant in her life. Having damaged her back in a nasty fall, she wasn’t able to move for weeks or walk properly for months. Long dark nights, followed long grey days. Her coping mechanism primarily involved eating pancakes and drinking Kahlua coffee, which led to weight gain and made her “bloody miserable”.
But, bit by bit, she started to dig herself out of the hole in which she found herself. One day walking to a lamppost, the next day running to that lamppost, then running to two lampposts and so on.
Over the years, she had seen cyclists heading down the West Coast Road preparing for the Coast-to-Coast, and she made up her mind to do the iconic race one day. Fast forward, and she entered the Coast-to-Coast in 1998 (with less than ideal preparation), coming 4th in the women’s open category.
Jan’s career was punctuated with falls, injuries, concussions, a couple of brain bleeds and a coma, from which she always rebounded, until 2016, when she sustained a trackwork fall and didn’t get back up.
“It ended my career and changed my life,” says Jan.
She couldn’t read or write for two years, her balance was way off, and she was slurring her speech. She struggled with permanent fatigue, chronic headaches and occasional nose bleeds. She knew her brain was rewiring, but she wasn’t prepared for the grey fog that descended on her. Anxiety, depression and anger became the norm.
“I had really dark moments, insomniac darkness and despair. I just couldn’t see a way out; I was stuck. I really hated what I had become.”
Art was something of a saviour for Jan as she went from not being able to draw a straight line to volunteering in art classes for the disabled, to setting up a riding school for disabled children (everything leads back to horses at some stage). Covid ended that dream, but not before she learned how important this work was to her.
Anyway, she decided to stop wallowing in self-pity, break things down into small goals and get herself back on track. Eight years later, she has learned to accept who she is now, is bouncing with energy, and is inspired by the people she meets at the NeuroGym.
Jan connects with people easily and is exceptionally good at getting them to do things they didn’t think they could. Like all our volunteers, she brings her own personality to the gym, and we are extremely lucky to have her.