Lewis Moody, the former England flanker affectionately known as "Mad‑dog," recently shared a candid update on his health, smiling as he said, "I'm good at the moment." This reassuring comment came after he publicly disclosed his diagnosis with motor neuron disease (MND) last October. While the question of how he feels now is inevitably complex, his calm and heartfelt reply offered a comforting glimpse into his current state. Moody's perspective on living with MND is nothing short of inspiring.
He has set a series of personal and collective goals: to stay active for himself, to support his family, and, perhaps most importantly, to raise the profile of MND and aid the countless researchers racing to find a cure. Drawing motivation from fellow rugby legends who have faced similar battles, Moody has aligned himself with the My Name's Doddie Foundation (MNDF), the charitable arm established by Scotland lock Doddie Weir and former Leeds and Great Britain star Rob Burrow. Both Weir and Burrow turned their diagnoses into powerful campaigns that generated awareness and vital funding for MND research, and Moody now seeks to continue that legacy. To that end, he has rallied a cohort of former teammates and rivals from England's 2003 World Cup‑winning squad, his old Leicester club, and other international colleagues for a charitable ride.
The plan is a 500‑mile bicycle journey that will begin at Newcastle's northernmost club, the Red Bulls, on June 14 and finish at Twickenham on June 20, where the cyclists will hand over the match ball for the Premier Rugby European (PREM) Final. By linking the ride to a high‑profile rugby event, Moody hopes to draw maximum attention to the MNDF and its mission. "We spent a long time figuring out where we could make the biggest impact," Moody explained.
"It quickly became clear that My Name's Doddie Foundation is the leading force in the MND space, so that’s where we’re focusing our energy." His family, too, has been deeply involved in the decision‑making process, ensuring that the effort aligns with both personal capacity and broader charitable objectives. Moody acknowledges that the landscape he has entered differs from the one Doddie Weir and Rob Burrow first navigated. "When I speak to specialists now, there is a real sense of hope," he said. "That optimism wasn’t as prevalent when those men were first diagnosed.
Hope is valuable, but I’m driven to translate that hope into concrete actions and measurable outcomes." The timing of the ride is intentional. Moody wants to test his physical limits while he still feels capable of contributing meaningfully. He admits that living with MND forces him to temper his natural competitiveness and monitor fatigue closely, especially over a grueling 500‑mile distance. "The reason we’re doing it now is to make sure I can actually finish it," he said.
"It’s about bringing my mates back together. I loved the Ed Slater ride – the camaraderie, the shared push, the feeling of being among a bunch of competitive idiots who love a good challenge.
This isn’t a race, though; it’s simply getting from point A to point B while enjoying each other's company." Medical advice has been clear: exercise is beneficial, but extreme exertion must be approached with caution. Specialists warned that intense activity could accelerate fatigue, so Moody has set personal boundaries to protect his health. "There’s a delicate balance between staying active and over‑exerting," he noted.
"I love the discomfort of a hard ride, but I’m leaving the race element out, which makes it much more enjoyable and sustainable." Six months have passed since Moody first revealed his diagnosis, and he emphasizes that MND manifests uniquely in each individual. The most noticeable change for him so far is a subtle loss of hand strength; his shoulder power remains largely unchanged.
He describes the daily reality of coping with small functional declines, such as struggling to open a bottle or cut food, and the mental adjustment required to focus on what he can still do. "Every day there are little challenges, but I try to concentrate on the tasks I can manage rather than the ones I can’t," he said, adding a hopeful note that his progress remains steady.
Beyond personal resilience, Moody wants his journey to serve as a beacon for anyone confronting a difficult diagnosis. He believes that with the right support network and mindset, people can harness their innate resilience to achieve what might initially seem impossible. "When faced with tough news, whether it’s MND or something else, we can still choose to act, to push forward, and to find purpose," he affirmed. Moody’s reputation as a fiercely committed player—earned through his nickname and his all‑in style on the field—makes his dedication to the MNDF unsurprising.
He feels a profound sense of purpose in being part of the campaign, describing it as a source of genuine happiness. "No one wants to be diagnosed with MND, but it does give you a strangely privileged position," he reflected. "It forces you to clarify how you want to live from this point onward, and that clarity is a gift." For those interested in supporting the cause, the My Name's Doddie Foundation provides further information on its website, and donations to Moody’s cycling challenge can be made through the dedicated Emma‑Live fundraising page. By combining personal determination, a supportive rugby community, and a reputable charity, Lewis Moody hopes his 500‑mile ride will not only raise vital funds but also keep the conversation about MND alive, encouraging research and offering hope to those affected worldwide.