‘Your siblings don't define you': These twins took their own singular directions

The Age

23-07-2025

When I'm overseas, I call her once or twice every day and at home we still have sleepovers; just jumping in with each other for a chat until late into the night. Debriefing with someone who knows you so well just makes you feel better. We go for a walk whenever we can, too, but Gem's got a terrible sense of direction, which annoys me. The other day, we walked to the coffee shop we've been going to for 20 years, then we went to leave and she walked the wrong way. How is that even possible?
Everyone used to just see us as 'the twins', which invites comparisons, and I think Gem found that hard. As teenagers, our older sister, Sunday, was a world-class trampolinist, and I was a national-level runner, and I remember people at family events going: 'Sunday, that's amazing!' and 'Claudia, how cool!' and 'Gem, what are you up to?' That's why any time she's on stage, I'm so proud because I know how nerve-wracking it is to put yourself in front of people and perform. Whenever Gem gets up and sings, I always cry because now everyone else is seeing what I've seen for so long.
Gemma: When Claudy found her love for running in primary school, we were both competitive. I'd win one race, then she would, then I would. It was always this thing – 'Which twin's gonna win?' – but I don't like running, so I dropped it while she took it to another level. When it came to choosing between studying and training, Claudy always chose training. She used to muck around and say, 'Chill out! It's just school.' She was never overly stressed, and such a socialite. Everyone loved her.
Claudy can tell you her running schedule a week ahead, down to the hour, but with anything else, she's so disorganised. She loses things constantly – Airpods, make-up, shoes – and don't give her anything because you'll never get it back. She's messy, too. She won't clean until it's just a pile, like a bomb's gone off.
We've probably only had one big fight. We used to skate to school and, one day, Claudy didn't bring her skateboard. I was excited to go down this big hill and she took my skateboard and went down it! I was filthy. I screamed at her, and she jumped off and hid for the rest of the walk home. I was so worried, crying, and she jumped out of the bushes to scare me and saw my tears, and she started bawling, too. It was ridiculous and over in five minutes.
We both did club footy, playing Interleague, and then for the Sandringham Dragons [an AFLW feeder team], but she knew she wanted to run. I didn't get to choose. When I was 17, I snapped my ACL and MCL and couldn't walk. I remember standing outside our home in my knee brace, crying, and Claudy hugging me.
Claudy is an amazing athlete, but the pressure she puts on herself can be overwhelming, and so for her to have someone who's separate from that – not a teammate, coach or parent – is probably special; it's someone she can vent and unload with. Every time she races, I'm super-nervous. It's almost like I'm ready to run.
I was so proud of her at the 2024 National Championships in Adelaide. That moment had been building for so long and to come flying through and cross the line first – the best 800-metre runner in Australia – I just died.
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There were moments, being in that box with high-achieving sisters, where you feel like you have to match these people performing on the world stage. That's why I tried so many things – I had this need to put my fingers in every pie – but your siblings don't define you. You can find your own way.
When we shared a room, I used to run 'Gemma's singing school', where Claudy was my student and I'd get her to follow me, so she's always been my No. 1 supporter. Whenever I'm unsure of something I'm performing, or a new song I've written, I always sing it for Claudy first. I love the way it makes her smile.