Q: Can you introduce yourself and the story behind GAL (Great Ambition League)?

A: I’ve been based in the UK and working as a vet since 2017. In the same month I graduated, I also qualified as a personal trainer. Health, fitness, nutrition and training have always been big passions of mine.

Like many of my colleagues, though, I quickly found myself buried under the clinical caseload and the stress of the job. At some point it really hit me that if I— with all my drive, interest, knowledge and qualifications— couldn’t stay on top of my own training and nutrition, then how were my colleagues coping?

I was quite shy about the fact that I was a personal trainer, but it eventually came out at my clinic. Colleagues started coming to me for advice, and before long I was coaching people within the profession. What I realised very quickly was that it went far beyond exercise and nutrition prescriptions.

It became about connecting the dots— understanding what it was about someone’s lifestyle and mindset that made it difficult for them to do the things they already knew they wanted and needed to be doing. That’s what led me into life coaching, and now I combine both personal training and life coaching into a comprehensive online coaching service specifically for vets and clinicians.

Q: Veterinarians tend to be high achievers and perfectionists. In your personal experience, how does this personality type lead to difficulties when it comes to self-care and health?

A: I’m glad you mentioned that, because it’s probably one of the biggest hindrances our profession comes across when it comes to self-care— and I’m not even talking about being in great shape or having abs. I’m talking about being healthy mentally and physically, and living long, healthy lives.

It comes down to multiple things, but one of those is exactly what you mentioned: perfectionism and all-or-nothing mentality. People set extremely high goals for themselves, and that may or may not translate into high standards. But the main thing is that looking after ourselves doesn’t work like that. It also doesn’t come with that kind of instant feedback and gratification.

People expect they’re going to push hard, do that last‑minute catch‑up deadline we used to do at university— or that you might do in a very busy shift— and somehow everything’s going to fall into place. However, when it comes to looking after our bodies and our minds, it’s more like a constant trickling into it, and doing it without the expectation of instant feedback, success, or gratification.

So, people tend to go all in, then a difficult shift happens, then it’s collapse, and then it’s shame and guilt, and then it’s restart. I think that shame and guilt is a big part of it as well, because people don’t like to share their struggle or their efforts. And that makes it much, much harder to stick to.

Q: What aspects of the profession do you feel are most misunderstood by non-veterinary friends and family - particularly when it comes to stress, energy depletion and the so-called “invisible load”?

A: There’s probably a few, but the first thing that pops into mind is that our friends and family— the people around us— only see what we want them to see, which is basically that we have it all together. And I think if you asked anyone, actually every single one of us struggles to some degree.

We all kind of feel like kids thrown into this clinical role, where you have to inspire confidence and make these big life‑and‑death decisions, be on the clock, be fast, be efficient, and everything else that comes with it. There’s a lot of insecurity behind the scenes, and a lot of struggle and wobbles that we don’t show, or that people don’t expect to see, and therefore they don’t see it.

A lot of it comes down to the emotional toll that the job brings. It’s not just the hours and it’s not just the stress— it’s the invisible load of having to make really big decisions and having to carry and negotiate the emotions of your clients, the animals, your colleagues. It’s every emotion in between being elated and being distraught. And the veterinarian, the nurse, or the receptionist in the room is going to carry part of that.

Q: Veterinary professionals are disciplined and capable, yet many struggle with consistency in health habits. In your first session, you explore why traditional fitness plans fail vets. What realities are those plans not accounting for, and how does your personal experience shape this perspective?

A: There are multiple things, but one of the biggest is the predictability of when you can show up to do things. Most plans expect you to train on specific days— Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday.

The truth is our shifts vary from week to week. You might be on call one day, not the next, and then the following week looks completely different. The all-or-nothing mentality that a lot of veterinary clients struggle with is built into many fitness plans as well.

What works much better is negotiating a minimum effective dose, with nutrition and with training, and building the idea that it doesn’t have to be perfect. There is always “good enough”. We shrink things down to the smallest thing people can actually do in their hardest weeks, and that’s one of the key pieces.

Most vets and nurses skip breakfast or don’t have a meaningful, balanced breakfast at all. People under‑eat protein by about half, fibre intake is abysmal, and hydration— I’m not even going to get there. These are low‑hanging fruit that make a tremendous difference to energy and mental clarity.

Q: In your second session, you focus on meal prep for busy veterinary professionals. Why is nutrition often the first habit to slip during intense weeks, and what impact does it have on energy and performance?

A: This comes from my own personal experience. I mostly work ER shifts— 12 or 15-hour day or night shifts— and if I show up without a structure, without a breakfast based on good principles, and without planning my meals, my performance during that shift is completely all over the place.

That’s true for physical performance and mental performance, and I see exactly the same thing with the people I support. We’re also blessed with lovely clients who bring in biscuits and chocolates that live in the tearoom all year round. And when you’re depleted and overwhelmed, those things become the default.

Q: What are some cultural shifts and mindsets you'd like to see across the profession, and how can spaces like the Wellbeing Hub contribute towards this change?

A: I genuinely thought the Wellbeing Hub was a really nice initiative, and it was very well received. Just thinking about last year, so many people showed up to mine and my colleagues’ sessions, which shows there’s a real need for wellbeing content. People were asking questions, making it personal, and trying to see what they could actually apply in practice.

That conversion from a generic message to “how am I going to make this work for my life and my job?” is the main thing. When you’re expected to work late, support colleagues off the clock, or you’re drowning in cases, you need something practical.

There’s growing awareness around mental wellbeing, which is great, but when it’s delivered as generic advice it can feel like it’s just adding to an already infinite to-do list. Creating spaces where you can have conversations and make things personal is where action starts.