Most freelancers I know treat their camera gear like gold – they spend a fair amount of time getting sensors cleaned, polishing lenses, checking filters for scatches… On assignment they carefully tuck lenses into padded compartments, cradling camera bodies in their laps as they change lenses, doing everything but singing lullabies. If you have to pay for your own equipment, you would be this careful too. Imagine dropping a 400 f 2.8 in the middle of a four-day PGA tournament, knowing that there’s no pool from which to grab another prime lens while yours goes out for repair. I did that. My ankle gave way as I was walking down from a green – the monopod slipped out of my hand (it was in the mid 30’s that day – positively sweltering), and the strap wound off of my arm. Down went the 400 and the Nikon body it was attached to – smacking firmly on the paved footpath about eight feet below me. I was too shocked to say anything. I walked down to the camera, pushing past spectators who had witnessed the event, and picked up the gear. The camera worked. The mount on the 400 was bent, limiting my aperture to a two-stop range – 2.8 to 4. Just enough for the rest of the week. I was lucky.

It took a couple of weeks for a new mount to get shipped in from the US. Until that time I had to make do without the 400. Luckily I didn’t have to shoot any sports over that period, or I would have been in trouble.

We’ve all got horror stories about camera tragedies – they are the currency of the freelancer. But a new topic has been creeping into our BBQ-side banter. Knees, vertebrae, eyesight, tendons, ligaments, melanomas… as we begin to hit middle-age, BBQ conversations turn to more morose subjects of health, insurance and… death, we are beginning to sound like characters scripted from a Woody Allen sleeper. “Oh, my aching sciatica!”

Unlike our camera equipment, which we attend to almost religiously, we are notorious for abusing ourselves. Most of us wait until it’s too late to take care of those little aches and pains that we get while on assignment. The shoulder strain from carrying a camera bag through so many assignments, the lower back that starts to complain after an hour or so with a monopod and long lens, the knees that do funny things when we’re carrying gear across a soft or uneven landscape. These are just things that happen. And most of us wait until they break down – literally – before we take any action. I did.

A few years ago I wound up in physiotherapy (again). This time, I was told that I HAD to do some core strengthening exercises or I would get worse. In the past, I’ve lost mobility in my arm and had pins and needles in my fingers (this is what happens from carrying a trendy camera bag on one shoulder). I’ve had lower back pains so deep that massage just aggravated it (blame poor posture while covering soccer). I would go through a round of physio, sometimes with bizarre electrodes attached to muscles, sometimes just getting taped up, and that would be that, until the next time. This time, I got the riot act read to me. Already I have two vertebrae fused at the base of my neck. 

I started doing pilates. This helped a lot. My posture improved, my core strength improved. I became more conscious of how I was holding equipment, how I stood, where I put my weight. Four years later, and I’m at the gym now, still working on the core, and working on my aerobic fitness. My partner and I have road bikes and go out for long weekend rides. When the sharks aren’t too close, I do some body surfing. I’ve also changed my diet – we are a double-income-no-kids couple, so we can afford to go organic and try out the new super-foods. I’ve cut back on booze – just the odd glass of red wine or gluten-free beer on the weekend. I feel great. 

A few years ago, I switched to using a backpack and a waist pouch to carry gear around. To hell with the romantic image of camera on one shoulder, bag on the other. I want to be able to run after a story in ten years, not hobble. 

I’m constantly harping on to my students like an old mother hen about their health, their posture, their fitness. I’m sure I’m turning into an old fuddy duddy, but I have to try. Already they’ve learned to appreciate the quality of good glass and a good camera. They get their equipment serviced regularly, and are trading the odd horror story around the office. And a few of them are starting to carry backpacks and exercise – though they’re all still madly addicted to pizza.