‘WHEN YOU HAVE NOTHING, BEING HAPPY IS EASIER’

Kiko Matthews, who survived two tumours and a serious illness, has become the fastest woman to row solo across the Atlantic.

As the sun set, I stood up in my rowing boat and gazed out at the shimmering waves. The Atlantic ocean stretched around me, vast and beautiful. Not for the first time, I wondered if any other boats had ever passed this spot. I could have been the only human to have ever been in this patch of water.

Rowing across the Atlantic solo, the isolation was complete and surreal. And yet, even after weeks at sea I never once felt lonely. Just eight months before, I was lying in hospital after brain surgery, my future shrouded in uncertainty. As I embarked on my monumental challenge among the waves, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. Finally, I could breathe.

In 2009 I was diagnosed with Cushing’s, a rare disease caused by a tumour in the pituitary gland of the head that had been growing there for around six years. I was in hospital for a month. If left untreated, I could have died. The medical team at King’s College Hospital saved my life.

It was the catalyst to change everything. I went part-time in my day job as a science teacher. I qualified as a paddleboard instructor and set up my own business. In 2014, the men’s solo row world record holder suggested I go for the women’s record. He made boats for Atlantic rowing, and agreed to let me rent one to row the 3,280 miles from Gran Canaria to Barbados. I wanted to push myself out of my comfort zone, to see what my body was capable of.

I’d played around in boats on holiday as a child, but I’d never properly rowed. However, I’ve always been very determined – often to the point of stubbornness. When I set my mind to something, I have to do it.

I had one lesson on a rowing machine and a training day in the boat. From January to November, I rowed every other weekend – and I also had navigation training. But, nine months in, I felt like something wasn’t right. Tests revealed that the tumour was back.

Thankfully, surgeons acted quickly. I was discharged from hospital three days after surgery, and 10 days later I managed

I was exhausted, but determined not to be beaten

a 100km bike ride. I was exhausted, had headaches and was still on medication, but was determined I wouldn’t be beaten. My training meant my body was still in tip-top condition, so I was lucky to recover relatively quickly. Looking back, there was probably an element of denial, but the Atlantic challenge gave me purpose and focus. I simply refused to give up.

And so, in February 2018, I ‘set sail’ from Gran Canaria. I honestly didn’t feel any nerves – there was only pure, unfiltered excitement. My strategy was to row two hours on, two hours off, which I did for 24 hours a day. When I shut myself in the little cabin to sleep, I angled myself according to the wind, so that I’d float in the right direction.

It was a physical journey, but it was also an emotional one. I cried a few times, frustrated when I realised I’d been going backwards for a whole day, or else out of sheer boredom. There was a lot of time to think. And as my moods changed with the wind, I found myself feeling grateful for the little things; a change in the weather or a shoal of fish swimming past. I saw dolphins and even whales. One little bird followed me the whole way. When you have nothing, being happy is much easier.

I crossed the finish line in Barbados after 49 days and set a world record, becoming the fastest woman to row solo across the Atlantic. In total, I raised over £110,000 for the medics who saved my life. I’m now off all my medication and feeling stronger and fitter than ever. I’m the same person I always was, but my confidence has deeper roots. I no longer question myself, trusting my instincts and maintaining my self-belief. If I can row the Atlantic, I can do anything.