The dangers of "Why?", vulnerability, and the deep blue sea

What is it about the innocence of a child looking at you, clearly thinking about something you've said, and then asking that killer question; "Why"?

It happened to me today (Easter Sunday) just after starting another 4-mile tyre drag, as I get myself ready for my November 2014 challenge but, before we delve into that, let me rewind a few weeks and talk to you about a real eye-opener for me, as I was involved in a 3-day film shoot which will be leading to a first-ever ..... well we'll come to that later too.

I've known Rob Barker from Barksy Media for a wee while (through LinkedIn) and I approached him back in late 2013 about an idea I'd had, and we got the chance to meet in late November, over in the 'Hudd'.

After about 30 minutes chatting over a coffee, Rob said he liked the concept and it had sparked something in his mind about grit, determination and pursuing a purpose against all odds. He's a busy chap but he promised to get back to me some time in 2014.

When he got back to me in late February 2014, Rob had an extraordinary idea to discuss, but not only did we discuss it, he had the whole thing done as a storyboard!! Talk about feeling stunned and this was just the start of a complete eye-opener for me, with his team (including the ever resourceful Lauren) finding a 1935 deep sea diving suit we could borrow for free. 

I felt like I was in Toy Story or something, with all 30 pages professionally drafted

My first ever production meeting

We agreed the story, the dates and the minor investment we both agreed to, and that was it; the team were gathered together and everything was organised, with me picking up the diving suit from a gentleman called John Smillie (from the Historical Diving Society). There I was, after a busy day in the office, driving for an hour out to the west of Lancashire, to sit in his kitchen and have over 40kg of equipment strapped, shoved, squeezed and wrapped onto me.

And so we were ready for the unknown; a day in Leeds in the city centre and at a local school, followed by a trip to the coast and then to Otley Chevin. I'm not going to spoil the surprise of the short film (as it really is Rob's brilliant masterpiece) and I do intend to sell tickets to the premiere (all proceeds going to a charity), but here are a few photos from the 3 days, followed by some reflection on its impact on me.

Stood in Leeds City Square, next to the apparently diminutive film producer, Lauren

In Leeds Fish Market - lots and LOTS of amused passers-by

Sat pensively, awaiting the shout from the Director to get my kit on.

Full kit on, approaching the sea.

After day 1 of filming my lower shins were skinned by the boots rubbing. Thanks goodness for Lauren's boyfriend's shin pads for the next two days!

Again in the Leeds Fish Market, perhaps wondering how I could quickly get out of the suit if I needed a wee

I only went into the sea up to my knees, but it gave me a huge insight into how powerless we truly are against the force that is 'Mother Nature'

As I stood in front of the sea, ready to wade in, I became very aware of the sound of my own breathing. I suddenly felt very alone and the sea was, quite simply, enormous and all consuming. Even with Paul, one of the cameramen, wading in with me, a feeling of loneliness, nervousness and helplessness swept through me, as if I really was about to wade into the cold foreboding water and submerge myself.

The words from my polar blog have never rung so true; "Alone, like never before. Silence, sheer silence."

The feeling passed quickly as soon as Paul started to walk backwards into the water, holding a specialist tiny GoPro camera, and reality came flooding (no pun intended) back into my vision and into my head, but that's not why I mention it now. No, the reason I mention it now is because I got that same sense of solitude when reading the article by Camilla Cavendish on page 27 of today's Sunday Times newspaper.

The story refers to Sir Chris Woodhead; former chief inspector of schools who is now crippled with motor neurone disease. A man who used to love hill-walking and who now is "..... imprisoned in his own body. About the only things he can do without help are breathe, swallow and speak" - copyright The Sunday Times - which brings us back full circle to a moment in Rothwell Park today.

Abigail (or Abbey as she prefers to be called Mummy!) is almost 7 (not 6 Mummy!) and a pretty cute kid with a twee button nose and a pony tail that flicks enthusiastically when she moves her head.

As I mentioned, I was out for a second 4-mile tyre-drag in three days (for those of you unfamiliar with the term 'tyre-drag' it is as straight-forward as it sounds; you strap a car tyre (or, in this case, a van tyre) to yourself using a specially-designed harness, and drag it (see First ever tyre drag blog entry, from March 2011. for more of an insight)).

The weather on Good Friday was perfect ... if I'd been wearing SPF 20+ on my forehead

On Good Friday I'd been out and seen a few people who recognised the local idiot; the guy who used to regularly walk around the park with a tyre or two dragging behind him, but today's 'drag' was in a surprisingly quiet Rothwell Park.

The slow drag up a gentle slope

This years' tyre - a Continental Vanco tyre (yep, means nothing to me either)

The top of #HamstringHill; I go up and down this 4 times at the 2.5 mile mark.

Me wondering why the ruddy sunshine was inconsiderately burning through when I'd dressed for rain.

I'd only just started my tyre drag when a little girl started giggling at me, holding her Mum's hand but not in the least bit shy (not like the woman in the 4x4 Merc on Friday who had one of those 'I want to look but I don't want him to think I'm looking'-faces on, as her gaze wandered from the road almost as quickly as her car drifted towards the mature oak planted firmly in the grass by the kerb! 

I smiled at her and her Mum and was about to plod on my way when Abbey looked quizzically and said "What are you doing?". Well the obvious answer was "Pulling a tyre" but that would just have been childish so, in a moment of unusual maturity, I told her.

"I'm training, to get stronger, so I can go up a mountain" I said.

She tilted her head, squinted slightly with one eye as she gave this statement some momentary but clearly serious consideration, before looking at me for a moment, tilting her head to the other side and asking that most dangerous question from a child; "Why?". 

"Why what sweetie?" I asked

"Why are you pulling a tyre behind you so you can walk up a mountain? Will you be taking it with you?" 

"No, it's just that ... well ... I'm quite old I suppose and I need to get stronger, so I don't have to stop part way up the mountain, and give up" I said, smiling like an idiot, in the vague hope that this would satiate her inquisitive nature. But it didn't.

"You're not as old as my Grandad".

"Well I'm sure if he was thinking of walking up a mountain, he would go for lots of walks too" I said (hopelessly) as her Mum just smiled at me. I actually couldn't tell if she was sympathetic to my plight, or just wishing she could call the local psychiatric ward and inform them she'd found an obviously escaped patient (or a newly found one).

"Right, come on Abbey, let's let this gentleman get on with his walk" her Mum said, and they promptly began strolling on their way. Abbey didn't look back and was clearly lost in her thoughts as she skipped along next to her Mum, and out of the park gateway.  

I resumed my walk and my mind wandered elsewhere for about an hour (thinking about my Buy Yorkshire Conference stand to be honest), but as I did and as I imagined some of the conversations I might have with the attendees who popped by to see what the stand was all about, the question of "Why?" came back into my head. Why was I doing these adventures? What was is it that drove me to invest my money to do things that raised some money for charity, rather than just giving the money to charity and spend my days earning more money for a nice relaxing holiday with Lucia?

It was then that the Sunday Times article came back into my mind. I wasn't (just) being altruistic; I was staring to think I should do this .... while I can. I need to feel that same surge Ben Stiller portrayed in the 'Walter Mitty' movie; of achieving something that lets me see the world and takes me away from a client PC and desk.

I don't have the money to retire like some of my friends and contacts; nor do I truly expect to win the Lottery any time soon, so this was me doing what I could, while I could. And whilst I don't foresee myself succumbing to a crippling illness, nor do I know that I'll be able to do all this in another 20 years time.   

And I bet Sir Chris Woodhead always imagined he'd be hill-walking, but who knows when vulnerability becomes a reality, not simply a fear.

And then I remembered my Dad and the day he rang me and we spent a few minutes on the phone with 'small talk', which was something my Dad never ever did. I knew that day that he had something potentially terrible to tell me, and so it came to light that he had cancer. And so one day, a man who seemed virtually indestructible suddenly had to be lifted up in bed; who was so self-sufficient now had to be cared for in almost every way.

I paused for a moment, to reflect, to remember, and then carried on my merry way, thinking about the design for the stand; the words I need to write for it and the exciting things I hope to be doing over the next decade or so (including potentially this chap making an appearance) ....

These words, beautifully written by the lovely Michelle Wise just after we got back from the Sahara trek summed it up perfectly for me ......

... which, for me, is a great example of someone embracing the principle that "Everyone dies, but not everyone lives".  That's why my debut acting role has led me to accept a real (inland) dive in that deep sea diving suit - also due to be caught on high-quality digital film by those lovely people at Barksy Media.

Because one day we'll all be in no position to do some of the things we always wish we'd wanted to ... and that time is approaching faster for some of us than it is for others. Feel free to join me in my November adventure ......

...... or any other adventures afterwards. Yours vulnerably ......

P.S. The tickets for the premiere of the shortest film you've ever seen will be on sale in a few weeks time; you're more than welcome to come to watch #Undertow.

Sherbert Dip or Anglo Bubbly?

I'm lost.

Like a child in a sweet shop with just 10p to spend, I'm completely and utterly lost.

Almost 2 years to the date since I reached the geographic North Pole, I'm in a place, emotionally and psychologically, where there is just too much choice and I don't know which way to turn.

Hello by the way; yes it's been a long time and I know I have a great deal to tell you; from my mini-tours on the 7-seat circular bike, to my trek across part of the Sahara with 18 friends over 5 days, to the final charity act of 2013, the 12-hour bike ride that helped Pancreatic Cancer Action raise £4500.

Setting off from Manchester city centre on the April 2013 mini-tour

With a team from Barclays, on the September 2013 mini-tour

Some of the team, who raised over £26 000 for charity, spread across the dunes in the Sahara (Oct 2013)

Setting off on the final ride of the day, for PCA (November 2013)

I've also had a number of exciting challenges through BlueDucks, but this entry isn't about a catch-up; it's about the now and about the foreseeable future.  

This year I had eight (yes EIGHT) opportunities to do things; some are all planned and ready to recruit fellow adventurers, and some are just twinkles in my eyes, or the eyes of other people. Charities started to approach me, from local ones to one in London; and people have started to approach me, from a restaurant manager keen to do something with me, to a company looking for something 'different'.

My aspiration, that my stand at the 2014 Buy Yorkshire Conference would be simply BURSTING with activities, was coming true ... and someone said they were keen to invest to make them come true ... but there were two issues for me, and I feel the urge to share that dilemma: I'd call it therapeutic.

On the one hand, all these things were exciting and fulfilled my desire that this year my activities would be cost neutral for me. I wouldn't spend vast amounts of my money doing more and more great things, but nor would I seek to profit from such activities.

On the other hand, contracts with clients don't naturally fit around my personal challenges and desires and, with a wonderful wedding to an amazing woman to look forward to (and to save for), the reality of bank balance versus mortgage payments came to the fore.

I also have to admit that the effort put in to recruit fellow charity challengers seemed disproportionately high to the actual results. It felt as if the beauty and simplicity of the Sahara team adventure was lost as I try to spread myself a little too thing (even with the BRILLIANT help of the lovely Michelle, whose avatar is below).

Yes, the arrow on my head was my idea ... cheeky !!

A meeting with a group of women, at Iveridge Hall, also brought something home to me; I was missing what I call the oh-wow-oh-sh*t factor of doing something challenging that pushed me to the limits of my perceived abilities, and beyond.

The women are known as the Yorkshire Rows (neat play on words, given they are lovely people and their logo is the Yorkshire Rose). What? Oh yes, sorry .... the play on words is because they have decided to row across the Atlantic in a custom-made boat that would only just look over-sized on the lake at Peasholm Park!

30-45 days in this, rowing two at a time, for 3000 nautical miles, totally unsupported; would you??

It's a tremendous and breathtaking challenge, and it was then that I realised I missed the idea of a year-long build up to a challenge. It was then that I realised that the time I was spending trying to recruit people to ride a bike for a day used to be spent in the gym, or networking, or fundraising, or dragging tyres round the local park like a man possessed.

But like a man with purpose!

I missed the challenge, the isolation and the very intense self-focus to take me from old fat Yorkshire bloke to, well, an old fat Yorkshire bloke who was doing something that made people's jaws drop and, more importantly, made people think "Well if he can do that, what can I do?".

Great people, lovely people, like Bob Proctor who got that twinkle in his eyes and fire in his gut when he was the first to sign-up for the Sahara trek (here's Bob and I, seemingly enjoying ourselves on our way to our starting point in the searing heat of the Sahara):

Just don't ask Bob about me bowling him out in our cricket match in the Sahara. he still claims it was a no-ball

So a few weeks ago I even dug out the harness and ropes from the polar trek training, popped along to the local tyre merchants, and lashed myself up to a car tyre to drag it for a couple of miles.

Why do I always attract dogs?!?!?

It was good, but it wasn't great, and the reason it wasn't great was because it wasn't building to something I was committed to. I could quite easily do it again or, as the case has been, just put it all back in my garage and let it gather dust.

My mind was still in a quandry about what to do; what would ignite that laser-beam passion and dedication again? I had things to organise and people to harass, to try to get them to join in.

And that's just not me.

A trip to London was to make the big difference and it was a chat with one guy I admire and respect, and a discussion with an unresponsive charity that sealed their fate. A final meeting with a great water-based charity suddenly opened my eyes to new possibilities.

The brilliant, wise and patient Simon Albert of Charity Challenge ... with his Involve mugs

One of the learning points I got from the polar trek was only work with charities who make the effort to support you, and don't do it for those who simply say 'just send us a cheque' or, in the case of one charity in London, what  I viewed as an even worse attitude.

More charities should be as supportive and proactive as the wonderful people at Heart Research UK

So I traveled back from London, a little clearer on what was wrong but not much clearer on how I was going to put it right. And then, one morning last week, it hit me.

As I stirred myself to get out of bed and head for the shower, I looked back at my wonderful fiancee, Lucia, and I knew; I had priorities to meet as well as doing lots of good things for good causes ... and I needed to work, otherwise neither of those things would be possible. Over the next 20 minutes things became clearer and by the time I left the apartment, I knew what I had to do.

I needed a focal point every year, not 8 focal points. Maybe this chap (below) will be one of them, or maybe that's next year .... but I needed a focal point for sure. I started to think about how I'd prepare for such an adventure, and I had the stages clear in my mind. I even started to do 10km on the indoor rowing machine to see if I could (and yes, I could - all 3 attempts were completed in under 58 minutes).

I started to re-assess my physical condition and was pleased to see some of the form returning (although other than these, my butt and my legs, the rest of my body has a much longer way to go).

More importantly I had a desire to achieve again. A desire to do something that even I didn't truly know whether I was capable of or not.

What is it? Well this little boy has just narrowed his choice of sweets down from all the jars on the shelves to just 7, and there are 7 years in which to achieve them. The next question is what comes first.

See you in a week or so, when I reveal a little more (no, not of me) AND tell you about the great meeting I had today with the charity Henshaws but, for now, it's midnight and I have an interview with a client tomorrow so I can work, get paid, and afford to marry my fiancee next year, as well as complete a couple of other exciting adventures between now and then (that come 2nd and 3rd in my priority list, behind Lucia).

Sleep well, and thanks for reading this blog post. I'm back !!!