LIMITED VISION. UNLIMITED GRIT.  CHASING PARALYMPIC GOLD.

I’m Maggie Sandles, a Melbourne-based para-triathlete with Usher Syndrome Type 1C, competing in the PTVI (visually impaired) category. In triathlon, that means racing alongside a guide, tethered together as we swim, ride, and run our way through some of the toughest endurance events in the world.

If you've ever done a triathlon, you'll know they test you in every possible way. Your lungs burn, your legs scream, and your mind is constantly negotiating with you about whether to keep going. That’s hard enough on its own. Doing it deaf, visually impaired, and physically tethered to another person? That adds a whole new level of endurance, trust, and teamwork. But for me, that challenge is exactly the point.

Sport has always been where I feel most free. It’s where the noise quiets, the focus sharpens, and hard work levels the playing field.

Every training session, every race, and every chaotic transition is a reminder that the toughest miles often hold the most rewarding moments.

Challenges and setbacks don't get in the way of the good stuff. That is the good stuff.

Most people want to skip to the finish line. I've learned to find the value in everything that happens before it – the early mornings, the gruelling training hours, the letdowns, the perseverance, the moments where you have to dig deeper than you ever thought you could.

Living with Usher syndrome has a way of stripping back any illusion that life will ever be straightforward. You learn quickly that waiting for the right conditions is just another way of standing still. So you move.

You do the work, you find the resilience, and you grow through it. And somewhere in that process, the hard stuff stops feeling like a burden and starts feeling like the point.

No. o1

The Grind

The quiet work that no one sees. The alarm clocks before sunrise. The endless laps, kilometres, and sessions that stack up day after day. It’s showing up tired, showing up sore, showing up anyway. The best athletes aren’t just willing to do the reps. They learn to love them.

No. o2

The Grit

Perseverance. Courage. Passion. When your legs are burning, race conditions turn against you, or life doesn't go to plan, grit is that mental fortitude that urges you forward in pursuit of your goals and refuses to let you quit (even when it feels like the odds are entirely stacked against you). 

No. o3

The Growth

Growth lives on the other side of the hard days. In the lessons, the setbacks, and the breakthroughs that shape you along the way. We train to become faster and stronger, yes. But more importantly, we train to become the kind of athlete who keeps showing up, supporting others, and pushing the edge of what’s possible.

Off the track

HAPPY
PLACE

AT THE FAMILY FARM

Mindset

POSITIVITY

PICK ME UP

LONG BLACK W/ MILK

VACAY
SPOT

DOLOMITES, ITALY

COCKTAIL
ORDER

SPICY MARG

Guilty Pleasure

REAL HOUSEWIVES of  SALT LAKE CITY

NEVER
WITHOUT

MY KINDLE

ABOUT
USHER 1C

Usher Syndrome Type 1C is a rare genetic condition that affects hearing, balance & vision.

People with this condition are born profoundly deaf and often experience significant balance challenges because the part of the inner ear responsible for spatial orientation doesn’t function properly.

Over time, it also causes a degenerative eye condition called retinitis pigmentosa, which gradually narrows a person’s field of vision and can eventually lead to blindness. There is currently no cure.

Hearing is something I've had to work for my whole life. Born completely deaf, it wasn't until getting a cochlear implant as a toddler that the hearing world became accessible to me. It took years of practicing things that most people never have to think about, but that technology gave me a life I'm deeply grateful for, and the resilience it built became something I've carried into everything I do since.

As I grew up, my parents and teachers noticed that my eyesight seemed limited too, and eventually I was diagnosed with Usher Syndrome Type 1C. Currently, my field of vision is significantly narrower than most, and over time it will shrink to nothing. It's the most confronting part of living with this condition, but it has also become one of my greatest motivators. It's why I race, why I travel, why I push myself to experience everything I can while I still can.

I compete in the PTVI (visually impaired) category, but what people don't realise is how much my balance is also affected by being deaf. I end up running an extra few hundred metres than everyone else because I'm never moving in a straight line!