Ultra cyclist Jack Thompson on the uphill battle from rehab to redemption across the globe

Jack Thompson would like to cycle the length of the world. Yes, you read that ambitious aim correctly. The Perth-born ultra cyclist wants to complete the entire circumnavigation of planet Earth. Not only that, he wants to break the current record. There’s a high chance he’d do it too, given his impressive list of world-record-breaking times for rides in Japan, France and Spain. That is, if it wasn’t for the war plaguing lengths of the route through Russia. In the meantime, Thompson is returning home for another extreme challenge, this one close to his heart, along the Munda Biddi and through towns he spent his childhood exploring. On November 24, the cyclist will set out from Mundaring to make the 1067km journey down to Albany, weaving through forests and valleys, in under the current record time of two days, 17 hours and 22 minutes. An experienced cyclist is encouraged to set aside at least 14 days to complete the trail. Despite the happy memories of school holidays spent in the South West and beyond, Thompson’s childhood wasn’t always a smooth ride. He was 13 when his parents took him to see a psychologist. At first, he was petrified, thinking it meant that he was “crazy”. Yet his parents could see that on top of developing twitches that were becoming all consuming, their son wasn’t getting a buzz out of the things that made him happy any more. It was a move that set him on a new path, as the teen felt comfortable divulging the feelings and intimate thoughts that — as many children experience — he felt he couldn’t share with mum and dad. Thompson was diagnosed with clinical depression and obsessive compulsive personality disorder. At the same time, he had begun training for his first triathlon. Ticking off three distinct goals — a swim, ride and run — gave him a sense of accomplishment each day. Along with therapy and medication, it kept him in a good headspace, a positive mindset that carried through to his university years, before it came to an abrupt halt. While heavy drinking and dabbling in drugs may be interpreted as a rite of passage for some young adults as they glimpse their first sense of independence, it was a chapter that quickly turned toxic for Thompson. He was working towards a degree in construction management and economics, a career that aligned with his enjoyment of woodwork and belief that he could do an excellent job if he was a contestant on The Block. WA was also in the thick of a construction boom, so a well-paying job upon graduating was a given. The future looked bright, but Thompson’s obsessive personality style began to loosen its grip on exercise and tighten around late nights, drugs and partying. Just like when he was 13, his parents could see something wasn’t right. Still living at home, Thompson was coming and going at all times of the day — sometimes under the influence of illicit substances — and had become quite aggressive. He arrived home one day to find that his parents had raided his room, finding what they hoped they wouldn’t. It was rock bottom for Thompson, who decided to go cold turkey off the drugs, which saw him burrow deeper into the black hole. After he began to have suicidal thoughts, he went to rehab. Emerging back to a new version of normality after the stint in Hollywood Clinic, Thompson felt lost. His identity had long been swept up in his old lifestyle, he was the guy people wanted to party with. Then he got back on a bike. Thompson says his obsessive tendencies kicked in again, but this time in a good way, with the endorphin rush reinvigorating the more positive person he once was. What started as a lap of the Swan River has become his career, a form of therapy and a way to help others. Thompson hasn’t stopped riding this high since. Thompson didn’t love the racing side of cycling though, he was drawn to the extreme challenges associated with the sport, which unfortunately didn’t necessarily come with any financial stability. So, he harnessed the skills he’d learnt in his degree — wooing and pulling together contracts — and began contacting tourism boards in Asia. First the boards began covering his travel costs in return for him promoting their country as a cycling destination. Then the sponsorship deals began to come in. Thompson began being featured in magazines. Yet there was another side of cycling, and himself, that he wanted to share. “I wanted to create a film, documenting one of my adventures, and actually film them as a way of talking about my own struggles with mental health,” he tells STM from his home in Girona, Spain. It’s just hit 10am, but Thompson has already ticked off a ride for the day. To a soundscape of mainly house music in his ears, he particularly loves electronic musician and songwriter Tourist, he enters a therapeutic and transient type state. “I say it’s like meditation in motion,” he says. On the morning of the interview, Thompson couldn’t sleep, his mind on moving house, his family and friends at home, and planning for the Munda Biddi. So, in the early hours of the morning he rode in darkness, winding through the streets of his adopted home. “I’ve never felt ashamed to talk about my mental health struggles,” he reflects. “People have said to me things like ‘I’m down, but I can’t talk to anyone’. I’ve always found that quite strange, because I’ve felt very comfortable.” In a bid to get his story out there, and to help others feel less alone, he shot a film in Taiwan, part ride part confessional. His successful YouTube channel is now home to a series of stunning productions that capture the raw highs and lows of his achievements against sweeping backdrops. And achieve unimaginable feats he has done. To understand the gravity of them, a quick lesson in Everesting. Riders (or runners or walkers) select a hill, anywhere in the world, and complete repetitions of it in one go (with no sleep) until they climb the equivalent of Mt Everest — 8848m. In 2019, Thompson Everested three times, in three countries (Italy, France and Spain), in three days. In 2022, he Everested 52 times, as well as rode one million metres of elevation, raising $500,000 for mental health not-for-profits in the process. This year-long project has been his proudest thus far. “It was a difficult year for me, I didn’t rest for a year,” he reflects “But I always had this reason for why I was doing this. So to actually achieve that, the weight off my shoulders at the end was insane.” In 2021, he adapted his own challenge to the world’s best known cycling race — the Tour de France. Giving the peloton a 10-day head start, Thompson arrived in Paris three days ahead of them, making the journey in 10 days. To put it into perspective, it typically takes an experienced rider three weeks to complete. In this same year, the ultra cyclist beat the 28-hour record for the 715km Portugal crossing route, over 10,000m of elevation, by four hours. Earlier this year he cycled from Osaka to Tokyo in less than 19 hours. While most would be exhausted simply reading the list of milestones, for Thompson exercise is as vital as water and food — of which he will eat the equivalent of 48 Snickers bars before an event. “Exercise as a tool is really powerful for me, I get an endorphin rush … and feel like I’ve achieved something because I’ve had a plan, and executed it,” he says. “Then there is the fitness element, I feel fit and good about myself.” To keep his mental health in check, Thompson reverts back to the simple strategy he practiced as a teen — making lists and checking them off. “A lot of my mental health issues come as a result of feeling like I’m not doing enough, or feeling like I’m not achieving enough,” he explains. “Just by hanging the washing out … it’s affirmation that you’ve actually done something today, it hasn’t been a waste of a day.” Spending time with friends is tucked into his wellbeing toolkit, next to making sure he factors in alone time to reflect. The latter is something Thompson has plenty of, riding about 30 hours per week, or close to 60 when he’s preparing for an event. These long hours aren’t just for fitness, or reflection, but also to build the mental fortitude that will see him through the rides when it’s dark, he’s wet or cold, or the shop he planned to stop at isn’t open. “How do you push through the next barrier?” is a question Thompson often asks himself. “I think it’s about being comfortable in yourself and your own abilities. So during these long, really long days, it’s more about building mental resilience.” Thompson will need it in spades for his upcoming ride in Western Australia. He’s partnered with wellbeing and mental health platform Oqea, taking on the route atop a gravel bike from US brand Specialized, whose bikes can retail for more than $20,000. Upon completion, and no doubt following some joyous celebrations, Thompson will be joining Brayden Ainsworth, ambassador for Happiness Co Foundation, and Mitch Harvie, general manager of MBA Sports Coaching, for a series of presentations throughout schools. It’s this part of the project that Thompson is particularly looking forward to. No stranger to talking about his story — he shares his journey on social media and presents to corporations — he hasn’t connected as much with kids. And while he can relate to the struggles they may be tackling, Thompson recognises his privilege in having a functional and supportive family who were able to afford to send him to a psychologist. “I’m wary that lots of these kids are not in that same position,” he says. “And so, I’m working out a way that we can support them. “Without the support I had, thinking back to when I was a kid, if some kind of mentor had come to school — I sort of remember some coming to school and talking to us — that had quite a substantial impact on me because they weren’t teachers, or parents, they were kind of cool. “So I’m hoping I can be that, though obviously no one really likes someone wearing lycra and telling bad jokes, but I’ll be trying to instill some wisdom into the kids.” Life is still an uphill battle for Thompson. Living with depression will never be seamless, and in 2015 the ultra cyclist was diagnosed with chronic fatigue, which he manages the best he can alongside his mental health struggles. But when he thinks back to his previous life — early morning cycle, work, sleep, repeat — the challenges he faces now, on the open road, are far easier to face head on. “You have to put it in perspective and realise that you’re on the trail for two days, so if you have two days with no sleep, you break the record and you’ll get to the other end and celebrate with everyone. That’s a pretty small price to pay for two days of no sleep,” he says. “I think that’s the biggest challenge, just trying to stay positive even through the down periods.” “And that’s also a bit of a metaphor for life.” LifeLine 13 11 14