May 2009
During the monsoons of the inaugural BUPA 10km run in 2008 I lost a mud drenched pair of trousers en route and my trainers didn’t survive. Persistent heavy rain had transformed Green Park into something reminiscent of school history lessons about the mud filled trenches of the First World War. I was cold, wet and weighed down with mud before I even started. I had been working hard in a new job and training had suffered as a result. I wasn’t happy with my time and it certainly wasn’t a relaxing Bank Holiday Monday. Still I had committed to completing the race, my sponsors were depending on me, and it had to be done... It would be fair to ask why I signed up straight away to do it all again the following year. However 2009 was a totally different experience, and there was more to it than just the weather (we were blessed with an overcast temperate day with just a light dusting of rain to refresh us early on). I was made redundant in March 2009 when my retail group collapsed during the Bauger Crisis and Icelandic Crash that felled several UK High Street Retail brands. I had invested the larger part of my physical and emotional energy in three very demanding roles over three years as a Finance Director for several well known retailers. I had also maintained a busy parallel career as a musician and performer. My friends and colleagues were bewildered by the number of musical projects, rehearsals and performances I was getting through in a week, on top of a demanding job. Sleep was for wimps and if I managed six hours of down time between an evening rehearsal and work the next day I felt lucky. When you are managing two separate demanding lives you focus on getting things done; ticking the boxes on your to-do list, moving onto the next thing. What you don’t do is stop to reflect on whether you enjoyed any of it. I am a natural cynic and it has taken some internal struggle to admit it, but I wasn’t happy. Whilst I congratulated myself on how much I was achieving, I forgot to schedule any time for reflection on whether any of it was worthwhile. This lifestyle gradually took its toll. I was frequently unwell, irritable (even more than usual), late for everything and finding it hard to concentrate; some days I could barely string a sentence together. The patience of my friends, colleagues, husband and fellow musicians stretched beyond reason. My short term memory was getting progressively worse and I was approaching middle age with more flab than I was happy with. So when the axe finally fell, to be honest it was a bit of a relief. On being made redundant I was immediately escorted from the premises without even being able to collect my things or speak to my team. I felt ashamed and humiliated even though I had done nothing wrong. In fact I had seen it coming and done much to make my team resilient and able to withstand the coming months. However, after the shock of the first 24 hours I couldn’t deny that the main emotion I was feeling was excitement. The strain of presenting the reaction that I thought people expected, whilst my mind was running away with opportunities, led to some very emotional ups and downs. I dutifully signed up for job alerts and went to see my recruitment contacts, but my heart wasn’t really in it and I felt guilty for even admitting it to myself. So what next? I stepped off the corporate treadmill and went back to school. I did something I have wanted to for many years, I enrolled on the full time Sound and Audio Engineering Diploma at SAE London. As an ex-scientist, musician, performer and self confessed techie gadget junkie I had finally found my subject. Electronics, music theory, soldering, electronic music composition and big desks with lots of shiny knobs, faders and buttons just waiting for me. As I sat on the bus in the sunshine on the way to my afternoon classes, I gave a little mental salute as I passed my former offices each day. Of course I knew it couldn’t last forever, I would have to earn a crust again at some point, but I had twelve months to enjoy and I felt I had more than earned it. It was my duty to make the most of the opportunity that had been thrust upon me. Oh, and the run? I trained properly, slept well, lost weight and beat last year’s result by over 10 minutes. I think that says it all really. Fast forward to May 2018 That was 2009, fast forward nearly a decade to 2018 and I am running the London 10k again. It is another pivotal moment in my life; much more momentous than the last, when I never could have come close to imagining what was coming. It is a year since Mr D died suddenly of a heart attack. So much in my life has changed; partly out of practical necessity, partly as a way to regroup and partly to find some sense of purpose again. I have a new job, and bizarrely I am once again walking past those old offices where I was so unceremoniously ejected in 2009. I have returned to Finance, but in a very different capacity that unexpectedly ties together the personal and professional threads of the last decade; working for a charity that supports people of all ages to break down barriers to music-making, through the use of technology. So how did it go? I knocked more than 3 minutes off my personal best, running very comfortably inside 1 hour. It felt good, and I felt fitter than I ever have before. I may well run a 10k again, but next time I hope it is simply because I like running, and there isn't a story to be told...
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