Late nights and favours (part 2)

Sometimes do you ever find yourself jut sat; taking in what happened during the day?

I'm sat up on my lovely little mezzanine, in our study: not thinking consciously about today and not really analysing it, but just sitting there and letting it wash over me; through me; as my fingers hover over the laptop keyboard; wondering where to start .... and stop.

Yes that's my hat from the Sahara Trek in 2013. A memento to go with my polar boots and a framed 'Undertow' photo.

 Today: how to describe it?  Well today was .... well ..... oh I'll just start at the beginning.


1. So what happened?

It's the morning of Friday July 31st. My alarm begins to play the intro to 'Hill Street Blues', in an attempt to rouse me gently from my slumber. It is 6:40am and, to be honest, I don't feel 'gently' anything.

When I'd finally climbed into bed at 3:30am earlier that morning, it had taken over 20 minutes to calm my brain down and fall asleep; and now my nerve ends feel as if they are on fire. I resist the urge to hit 'snooze' as I'm about to have three meetings which have the potential to either inspire me, or depress the heck out of me for the rest of the year.

The first meeting is with a potential host and equipment provider for the first Race 48 mini-trial. The email I received two weeks ago had seemed positive, but it had taken 6 weeks after my initial approach to finally get to a decision-maker.

The second meeting is with another 'city'; one where a University had shown great enthusiasm for the Race 48 concept, along with the potential for the host of the first meeting to join forces.

The third; a meeting with a charity, about my much-loved Capital Tour idea. I'd written to them and they'd said they were intrigued.

A near-900 mile bike ride; to raise £000's for charity

...and make many more headlines around the UK and Eire; like this.

I dress quickly; finding one of the Race 48 polo shirts I've had made, and slowly but surely start coming round. My nerve ends start to calm down and no longer feel like the chaffed nether-regions of a Le Tour cyclists lycra shorts in a sand storm; but my gut is in turmoil, so breakfast is out of the question.

I jump in the car and, before I set off, I pop 3-4 extra strong mints in my mouth; which will help ensure my stomach doesn't make any untoward noises (nerves-driven or otherwise) during the conversation. Hey, I did tell you this blog would share ALL the detail.

I arrive early at the location and try to sit patiently in the car for the next 10 minutes, but soon find myself pacing up and down the near-deserted car park, practising my intro lines and the key things I have to remember: you know, those dull but totally essential things like First Aid cover, insurance and waiver forms.

This meeting could end in a three-minute damp squib of a conversation or I could get so giddy I can see myself offering to donate all my vital internal organs as a dowry to the partnership. My stomach burbles to offer a pointless protest.

At exactly 8:02am, my host arrives and, with a hearty handshake, tells me he's very excited about getting involved and supporting the mini-trial. We sit in the middle of the venue and I summarise what we are hoping to do and how I think they might be able to help. "I can't decide whether 10 or 20 machines would be best?" I muse, with an attempt at a sagely worldly look in my eye when, in fact, I want 20 but dare not ask.

"Definitely 20" he says. "It will make more of an impact for the press; especially if we can get some TV interest. We have some really good contacts and I'm sure they'll see it as a great piece". Did he just mention the potential for TV interest? Only in my wildest dreams had I imagined that.

We discuss likely dates; participant recruitment; 24-hour non-stop access plus setting-up and dismantling time; security overnight in the car park, and the logistics of up to 480 people walking through their doors over the 24-hour period. Nothing seems to be too much; in fact he is going to pull another manager from a different location into the discussion; such is their corporate enthusiasm.

And so, after only 20 minutes, I walk out after a handshake of mutual commitment and the offer to me to communicate as often as required to make the first Race 48 mini-trial a huge success .... and open the door to UK-wide opportunities.

  
My Involve ethos had taken the first teeny tiny minuscule faltering step towards the vague possibility of it evolving into a part-time career; alongside my aspiration to develop BlueDucks into a part-time career as well.

The bright sunshine warms my face as I walk out into the car park and I feel this enormous rush of purpose and enthusiasm. Why couldn't every week consist of such rushes? Why couldn't every week be partially structured around this as a way of life?

It was agreed that we won't go public with the detail until September, by which time we have to have a number of key attributes and activities in place; not least translating enthusiasm into sign-ups and the emerging interest of a cancer charity turned into active involvement with clear commitments to make this happen.

I text the charity to say we are 'on' and that I'll call them during the week. They are not only very excited but already talking about the potential corporate involvement and that they too know TV people who might be sufficiently intrigued (oddly enough the same TV people my previous host was talking about).

July has come to a tumultuous conclusion. In the final two weeks my youngest had her 21st birthday; I married my wonderful fiancée Lucia (although the 'wedding dress' event is yet to come), and I had had my birthday .... and the potential that this meeting has; it feels like Christmas has arrived too.

Youth, beauty and an unbelievable depth of warmth and maturity - I am truly blessed to have such a wife.

I get ready to drive to Sheffield for my next meeting, knowing I can stop for a Starbucks and a light breakfast on the way. I send a message to the four Yorkshire business folk involved in Race 48, to let them know that meeting number one couldn't have gone better.

We have a meeting set-up for 7:30am next Friday, so I need to get us all thinking about the detail of how we get from the euphoria of today, through to the reality of late-October. 

Before I start the engine, I check my emails. One in particular catches my attention - it is from the General Legal Counsel of a very well-known dot.com, and they want to reach out by phone to discuss something.

What on earth can they want with little old me? I have an inkling and I need to find out. This could be a real distraction. I pick the phone up ......

2. An Update on Florence the 'warrior princess'.

As many of you know, my great friend Jay and his wife; Kerry, are going through the sort of life experience that no parent should face: that of childhood cancer in one of their beautiful daughters.

In what seems like an eternity ago, and yet only yesterday, I received a call from Jay at 1am one morning last year; devastated at the news they'd just been given. Only a 5% chance of survival.

As any regular reader also knows little Florence is a fighter: so much so she earned the nickname of 'The Warrior Princess'. Well I'm thrilled (but still cautious) to tell you that she has just passed her 6-month remission milestone. Still a LONG way to go but, as my way of celebrating, here are a number of photos that describe her journey; their journey ... and it's a journey I've committed Race 48 to help all those children and their parents with, that are still facing the prospect of this living hell.

I hope you'll help me and, if you're from Leeds, Sheffield, Manchester or Liverpool; keep watching this space.

March 2014

June 2014

October 2014

January 2015

March 2015

July 2015

These photos and memories fill my heart with joy; my gut with anger and my eyes with tears. No doubt there were days when a smile was impossible, but this little girl puts a whole lot of minor crap in this world into perspective.




3. What happens next?

Planning meeting and deadlines to agree for Race 48, and I need to follow up on the kind offer to talk to an educational advisor about a supporting educational pack for schools.

In the meantime, I'm sitting down to draft the critical activities and timeline between now and 1st September. What happens on the 1st September? Well I hope you're intrigued enough to read the next blog, to find out some more.

The Sheffield meeting took off at a tangent; but a good one hopefully (Marc). The Capital Tour meeting went extremely well, but I can't say anything else on that (primarily because I'm waiting for a formal response from the charity)

Great to see over 300 readers of the last blog entry, but I have a long way to go to get the level of interest in this up into the thousands (like my polar trek entry). Feel free to share this link, and thank you for taking the time to read this one.

Until next weekend, have a great one!

Late nights and favours (part 1)

It's currently 03:20am on Friday morning and I've just spent nearly 5 hours on a presentation pack for a meeting tomorrow at 10:30am in Sheffield (although I have a prior meeting in Leeds at 8am). I'm tired.

Thing is, with the hours I've been working (full-time as BlueDucks Limited), to do anything recently has felt almost impossible ... but then I guess that's me: wait until it feels almost impossible and find the motivation to do it.

You'd have thought that the last 20 years in change management would have led me to plan well ahead when it comes to adventures and Involve work; to ensure I was ready and completed the 5 hours of work a week ago.

But no. Instead there's that nagging (and totally unfounded) feeling that I don't have enough time to do everything I want to do. Then again, I've been there before and managed to be two things at the same time. I can damn well do it again!

1. The Tipping Point?

The car engine dies and I take a few seconds to let the silence wash through my mind and body, whilst still sat in the driveway. It's the end of another long day of work in Manchester and the M62 added to my general malaise.

The front door is opened by Lucia but my weary expression is hardly masked by my smile and the sheer mental relief to be home. I left the house at 5:45am this morning and, once again, it's after 7pm when I arrive home. Physically I'm fine but I head upstairs to change and take another few minutes to enjoy the simplicity of stillness. And there was still the whole working week ahead.

Apologies for those who dis-like 'that word' - but it perfectly reflected how I felt that day

A wonderful meal is ready and, after some time watching The Big Bang Theory with Lucia, my mind starts to wander onto the things that were fighting for space in my brain. Client work; the Great Wall of China Trek recruitment I need to re-start; the desire to come up with an exciting follow-up to the Thames 100km Row (quick review of that later) and ... the thing that got so many people excited earlier in the year: the Race 48 concept.

It was only a couple of months ago that a series of pretty senior and influential stakeholders in Leeds were keen to understand how they could help get the trial event up and running. At the same time the city of Sheffield were keen to get involved, but trying to get time to initially engage the right people across the Pennines in the city of Manchester was proving impossible.

That enthusiasm was a couple of months prior and don't misunderstand; I know everyone else has priorities and pressures, but I can't deny my disappointment when an email unexpectedly arrived saying (in effect) "Sorry, but we've now decided that we are too busy to consider this just now". Then again, sometimes that's just the jab in the ribs I need to force me into action.

After a discussion with a friend, mentor and Race 48 enthusiast; Gareth Boot, he introduced me to a new book which helped me prioritise that, other than my family (which includes my new wife of course) and paying the bills; Race 48 is THE next big thing for my Involve ethos and had to have my dedicated focus.

Shh, don't let Becci Skelton see this photo: she'll kill me for the Cadbury's Fingers.

 
Sat there, on the settee, I knew what I had to stop doing and what I needed to start doing.


2. How rowing delivered an appropriate pause.

The Thames 100km Row was a fantastic experience and, once we'd all got over the back pain and hamstring rigidity, something that did two things for me.

Firstly it once again demonstrated the unexpected capacity for physical and mental endurance we humans have when required, and it also gave me a huge psychological boost when the £29000 we raised for charity tipped my Involve activities up to the £100000 milestone (which I now proudly have on my 'Involve' header on Twitter .

I recently wrote a few words for the Candlelighters Trust, to describe the fun and the trauma of the row. Here's a summary and a few photos to help tell the story:

"Alarms were set for 4:30am as we had to eat lots of carbs before our 6am briefing. Ahead of us was day 1 of our row: 29 miles (and an estimated 6 hours) in a boat modelled on the 19^th century Thames water taxis.

At times like this you think ‘Why did I decide to do this?’, but you also feel the adrenaline buzzing through your body. So there we were; two teams of 6 and none of us had rowed before we started training for this, 8 months ago.

At 6:45am we started rowing; from Greenwich towards the estuary. Two hours later we turned and headed back towards Tower Bridge, before a final turn to row against a fast-moving tide. Muscles began to burn; grown men began to shout and curse as they each strained to pull their 9ft oar through the choppy murky water. Inch by inch we edged closer to the finishing line, but that final 2 miles took nearly 90 minutes of pain.

Day 2 was longer but calmer; taking the boats through the heart of London before heading up-river through Chelsea and onto Richmond. Just two hours into the 33 miles the strains of the previous day began to show, with back cramp and blisters wreaking havoc. Another six hours of virtually non-stop rowing and the team finally pulled into Westminster Boating Club to celebratory hugs and handshakes.

Experienced coxswain Sarah Cairn summed up the challenge: “This was the first time anyone has ever undertaken this sort of distance over just two days; let alone non-rowers. We are so incredibly proud of what you’ve done”.

Our efforts raised £29 000 for a variety of charities and, despite the pain and promises never to do anything so bonkers again, some of the guys are already asking “So what’s next Geoff?”

A brilliant message from lovely little Florence

BEST TEXT EVER ... laughed so loud when I got this (sorry Zach).

The team effort, mixed with the singularity of my own personal challenge to participate successfully in this world first event, reminded me that I'd thought about evolving the Involve ethos from singular events into participative events on a much wider scale. The amount of money that can be raised for charity also makes my heart and soul soar.

The idea for The Longest Day; my first mass participation idea that still feels like a practical and worthwhile activity, popped back into my head. The time and effort both Michelle and I tried to put into it to get it off the ground was HEAVILY reliant on others to make it a success - that HAD to be a learning point, as it failed to take off because my stance was a facilitating one. Now I felt the surge of determination and ... in the nicest possible sense ... **ck 'em: this idea was not going to wither and die as a result of people who weren't interested.

The die was cast and all I needed now was the time and financial breathing space to drive this through. Oh; both of those were a problem, so I needed to think of another way forward.


3. The ownership conundrum.

Without time to spare and without the financial cushion to drop work for any period of time, my mind turned to those people I knew who might be able to help out. The challenge wasn't to find people I trusted to fill the gaps in both time and knowledge: no, the challenge was learning to let go and to stop trying to spin so any plates at the same time. At least I knew I was keeping good company.

I was lucky to find three people who not only offered some of their time and experience, but were (and remain) bossy enough to tell me that I couldn't do it all by myself ... and they weren't just there for the ride. They really want to get involved!

You see I've always believed that if I want to do something that delivers my standards and definition of 'good', I'll best do it myself. In corporate life I occasionally found people didn't have the same drive as I did (albeit I'm sure there were others who thought I didn't have the same drive as them).

With my BlueDucks hat on I've brought a few associates into clients, but one situation has stayed with me and influenced my behaviour for several years: a situation which could have ended with me being sued had it run its course. Thankfully it didn't, but I'm still learning to 'let go' of some things.

The other thing of course remained. Where would I find the time to do the things I wanted to do, because this is still an Involve initiative ... not something I want to let go off. It's still my ethos, still my 'baby'. So what's the right balance between lots of late nights and asking favours?

That conundrum rages on within me and that's probably why I'm now facing only 3.5 hours of sleep before Race 48 probably has its biggest day ever so far. Let's see what Friday 31st July brings.