Life – Page 4 – Middle Age Fanclub

Poetry Blog: World Sleep Day

It was World Sleep Day last week and when I realised this I had a couple of thoughts. Firstly, I wondered how I’d never heard of this before. I mean, I’m a big fan of sleep and so having missed out on a formal day dedicated to it, I was kind of surprised.

My second thought was that I could write about it. Maybe an article about tips for getting to sleep – something that I’ve suffered with in the past – or even something scientific, like maybe 10 fascinating facts about sleep.

However, I ran out of time – too busy sleeping…just kidding – and therefore decided that I’d try and write a poem about sleep instead. There wouldn’t be much time to work on it or draft and re-draft, but I’d give it a go. As it turns out, this was a tricky one to write from the moment I introduced some rhyme and thus, I missed my deadline. Regardless, here you are; my poem about sleep and it just so happens that it’s a few days after World Sleep Day!

Sleep

Some nights like the proverbial baby,
I close my eyes & slip away into that friendly coma
to help me have a better tomorrow, maybe,
but other times, sleep is broken, cruelly unstable
and I'm isolated and counting lonely hours 
at the kitchen table
reading while willing submission to come to the fore,
but feeling just like the tyrant
that I'll surely sleep no more.
The nights where sleep is deep and fuller
exhaustion carries me into a world of dreams,
set sail on an ocean of movement and colour,
making life seem different from the moment I wake
while on other nights I drift off as I plot my route
on an imagined or remembered walk or run,
knowing this distraction will soon bear fruit
as I drift away, out for the count, to sample life's chief nourisher once more.

As I mentioned previously, getting rhyme involved slowed the whole writing process down here. That said, without it I think I’d have had a poem that was plodding, at best. As it is, I think the rhyme helps. I usually see it as a hindrance as it narrows down the words that I could include and often spoils lines and although there are a couple of rhymes that might be just a tiny bit forced, I think in all, it works.

When I was thinking about sleep one of the first ideas that came to me was the theme of sleep being so prevalent in Macbeth. Books and plays are often my first port of call as an English teacher. So I made sure that there were a couple of Shakespearean references in there and combined them with my own experiences of sleep, which is something that I’ve struggled with a lot in the past. Hopefully, it works and you enjoy the poem.

Spring is springing, so why am I looking back?

As we creep out of the darkness that winter has held us in for the last 4 months or so, I’m finding myself casting my mind back a year. I don’t want to. I’d told myself I needed to move on. And yet, here we are, reliving many of the negatives of a year ago and I’m not entirely sure why.

This time last year, I was 4 months into my recovery after heart surgery to fit a pacemaker. I was suffering physically and mentally. However, while physically I was slowly getting better and might even have started running again, mentally I was struggling.

I would continue to struggle for a while longer too.

This time last year though, I could at least feel like the end of being so poorly and frankly useless, was in sight. Every day I’d go for a walk and since starting this in the November of the previous year, I’d gradually been able to go out for longer. So, a year ago I was managing to take myself out for a walk for a good hour, some days more if the weather was brighter and warmer. I’d just wander, but mainly I had two routes. Either I’d walk slowly up to one of our local parks and take in the sights there, or I’d head out a bit further across some farmland and along a public footpath, past horses and cattle and down towards a golf club before realising I was way too tired and ambling home.

As the days got warmer and lighter I started noticing more. Leaves appearing on trees, buds of life on shrubs and flowers and as soppy as it might sound, it gave me a bit of hope.

A year on and it’s funny how things change. I’ve been back at work and back to the usual routine since around March 2023 and I don’t feel like I’ve settled at all. I still feel my pacemaker every day. It’s just there; a slightly heavier presence in my chest than normal. Day by day, it just sits there and whenever there’s even the slightest palpitation or flutter, it just kicks in and works. Sometimes, for no apparent reason it makes the area around it ache and can be more than just a little bit uncomfortable. Recently I’ve had a sharp pain around the place on my chest where the wires come out of the top of the pacemaker. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, but I’d rather it wasn’t there as well.

Being back to ‘normal’ has been strange, mainly because deep down I don’t feel like I am really back to normal. Most things are a bit more of a strain than I remember. I’m much more tired, much more easily, which in turn means that I have to really try hard not to be grumpy at everyone and everything! And I am really trying.

In September, when the new academic year started, I made it my goal to just try and be relentlessly positive. I praised classes for the slightest thing, spent a chunk of down time every day adding positive points to our monitoring system so that kids could see I appreciated them, kept smiling and was as energetic as I could be in class and even in meetings, which was a major struggle for me!

I felt that the positivity had slipped around Christmas time. I was counting down the hours of the day, the days of the week and just clinging on for the weekends when I could relax and just get out more and have time to think.

Since January I’ve tried to get back on that positive horse and I think I’ve done ok, but if I’m honest I’m still just clinging on. But then clinging on is not losing my grip, so maybe I should be grateful. I find that I’m looking back a lot. For one, I wish I’d admitted to being poorly about 6 months before I did! Whether much would have changed, I’ll never know. I’m also thinking back to those early spring walks and noticing the colour returning to the world. Oddly, despite feeling so lost at that particular time, I really miss it.

I remember speaking to a friend when I first had my operation last year. He’d previously had heart surgery too and he told me that feeling like myself again was going to be a long process. Turns out he was right!

So, while the buds appear on the shrubs in the park and trees begin to go green once more, I’m looking back when I really need to look forward. Maybe I should take spring as my inspiration. Clearly, some kind of changes are needed.

Apprentice Week 3 – Virtual Escape Rooms.

I’ve never liked the idea of escape rooms. The challenge of getting out of a room that someone will eventually just let me out of anyway has no appeal to me. I don’t want to spend a shed load of money to then find that I’m way too stupid to figure out some puzzles. Coupled with the fact that if I went with my wife, we’d end up arguing to the point of possible divorce, tonight’s task doesn’t exactly excite me.

And then, I remember that Asif will be a project manager and I’m diving for the remote control!

Tonight Lord Sugar has sensed early that the boys are a dead loss and so he splits up the teams in the hope of adding at least a little bit of competition to the competition. I mean, we can’t all be satisfied to spend the entire series laughing at people who regard themselves as business gods, but make the decisions of toddlers, can we?

The first task for the newly formed teams is to decide on a name, but when Maura suggests what sounds like an Irish name, her team mates are stumped and get her to repeat it three times before rejecting it presumably because they still don’t know what she’s saying. And when so many people are so confused by just two syllables, then the writing is surely on the wall for tonight’s result.

On the other team, Flo seems to have decided that she actually is the team, which even after her excellent pitch last week, seems like a bit of an ask. Perhaps she’s a Flobot though?

As is often the way with creative tasks, these young titans of business just aren’t very creative and so the whole online escape room idea threatens to descend into even more chaos than usual. I’m forced to remind myself that in around 6 weeks time, some of these candidates will have morphed into genuinely credible business types before my very eyes, as is the case every year. For now though, it’s the usual festival of f***wittery.

In response to the brief that their game should be kept fairly simple, Asif’s team are genuinely discussing something that involves crash landing on a derelict ex-military island where there are not only rare animals, but inbred ones too. Thankfully, not enough eyes light up at that suggestion, but it is an indication that perhaps the BBC should be vetting the candidates with a bit more scrutiny in future.

This week, once again, it’s the editing that gives us our moments of genius as the silences that accompany a series of ever more bizarre suggestions taking the limelight away from the contestants themselves.

In the end, after one silence too many Asif’s game design team settle on a rare animal to inhabit their island. It’s a bear. Not even a rare one. Just a bear. And in fact there are three of them that because they’re computer generated, look like they might be line dancing. Escape that, gaming nerds!

Over on the other side Tre decides that the mayor character in their game needs to be young and handsome, so decides to cast himself in the role and proceeds to guide the computer bloke to find a face that’s as close to his own as he can! He then proceeds to double down on his Tre-ness by doing the voiceover as well.

On the other team, Maura struggles with her voiceover – as well as simply looking in the right direction – so that the end result is akin to me getting one of my Year 8 students to act out an airline safety briefing. Suffice to say, if somehow, someone had got me to have a look at this particular escape room, the intro would have me doing a swift about turn and heading for the nearest exit.

As ever, both teams make a mess of their logos. This is always the way and again begs the question about business types perhaps not being particularly creative. And Asif’s logo very much backs this up, given his obsession with adding a couple of arrows to both of the words. Someone suggests that it looks ‘a little like a supermarket logo’. Surely what they mean is that it looks a Lidl like a supermarket logo?

With both Escape Rooms complete – and frankly pretty shit – the teams go to pitch their ideas. Flo is quick to back herself, which after last week’s performance seems like a safe bet. So, it’s a shock when she dries up mid pitch and clearly doesn’t know what to say. It’s both compulsive viewing and a moment where you want the ground to just swallow her up. In the end, she just introduces the video for the escape room and passes it off in the boardroom later on as something that lasted a millisecond. It’s a shock after seeing her being so competent in negotiation last week though.

At the end of the pitch one of the investors declares that Flo’s escape room is ‘as fun as a wet fish’, proving that the game might be a bit of a failure, but not as much of a failure as a gamer having to come up with a slick one liner.

Meanwhile, with the other team, the experts declare that their game is a bit surreal. However, Asif has the perfect comeback – it isn’t surreal, it’s meant to be realistic. That’s the game where a military helicopter crash lands on a derelict military island (whatever that might be) and the pilot not only survives the helicopter crash, but has to get away from some line-dancing bears, before running across a rickety bridge and then having a dance on the deck of a conveniently located ship. Yep, you’re right Asif. That’s not in the least bit surreal.

Tonight I suddenly realise that there are several candidates that I don’t even know the name of. In fact, there’s at least one I have no recollection of whatsoever. Could we see a sacking next week just because someone has been hiding a bit? You heard it here first, folks!

Paul then gives such a convoluted explanation of their game that after the full 3 minutes of him rambling on about what the game entails, all we need is a cry of ‘Parklife’ and we’re done. Suffice to say though, there are a few puzzled faces in the panel of experts.

In the boardroom I realise that I’m spending far too long trying to work out Asif’s hair. I mean, what does he ask for when he sits down in the chair? At one point it looks like there’s a giant spider attached to the back of his head and there’s sections of hair heading to every compass point on the top of his head. By this point in proceedings his team have lost and despite making a profit, they’ve lost by a landslide too.

Asif proceeds to blame everyone else for the failure, but unless the twist is that Amina is sacked because she forgot how to speak in the pitch, then there’s only one decision to make.

And so it comes to pass that Asif is fired having lost control in the boardroom and seen the other three candidates simply turn on him. When he’s told he’s “a poor, poor manager” he tells us “I won’t be defeated”. Famous last words, my friend! Before we know it he’s getting into the black cab never to be seen again.

Back at the house, the surviving candidates are as full of themselves as ever, until Lord Sugar knocks at the door. I really want him to be trying to sell them something, but alas he’s just introducing next week’s task, which is the purchasing task over on one of the Channel Islands.

The candidates are delighted, with one declaring, “a treasure hunt on an island. What more could you want?” Ooh, I don’t know…some line dancing bears, maybe?

But there’s more. In the outro of tonight’s show we get a teaser for next week with Lord Sugar growling the line “pretty much the worst team I’ve ever had on this task” which makes me laugh uproariously.

They say that we love the underdog in the U.K., but I’m gradually coming round to the idea that we love an abject failure even more. I cannot wait for next Thursday!

Always Look on The Bright Side: 5 Things that Made Me Smile in January.

I’ve not written one of these types of blogs for a little while. It’s not been a case of everything being terrible during that time; more just being incredibly busy. And anyway, who really needs a blogger telling them that Christmas makes them happy?

I went into January purposely telling myself to be positive. It’s not a month that I’m a great fan of and I decided that if I just forced myself to be relentlessly positive, it might make it easier to get through. And while I wouldn’t say that it’s been a resounding success, it’s definitely been helpful. This attitude did mean that I actively sought out reasons to be cheerful.

So, what’s made me smile this month?

The tidy Welsh mouse. I loved this and I couldn’t stop watching the accompanying video. It’s a BBC report about a retired postman in Wales who was baffled by the fact that bits and pieces kept getting tidied away in his shed at night. Seeking an answer to this mystery, he set up a night vision camera on his workbench. When he watched footage back he was greeted by the fantastic sight of a mouse tidying stuff like nuts, bolts and pegs away into whatever container had been left out.

And it got better – Rodney (our retired postman) then started experimenting by leaving different types of objects out, but whatever he left got tidied away! The only disappointment was the name that he gave the mouse; Welsh Tidy Mouse. I mean anything would have been better than that! Anyway, you can watch the little fella on the link below. The mouse that is, not Rodney.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-67902966

Newcastle United winning the derby. If you’re not a football fan or just have no knowledge of Newcastle United and our derby match, allow me to fill you in. Our closest geographical rivals are called Sunderland. However, we haven’t played them in a long time due to being in different divisions. Well, this all changed when we were drawn to play against each other in the FA Cup in early January.

The lead up to the game was tense, to say the least and there was the usual back and forth about who would win between the two sets of fans. It’s an intense rivalry, to say the least.

It’s a game I really don’t enjoy and the nerves are horrendous. Suffice to say, come the day of the game I was unusually quiet and felt very sick indeed. I needn’t have worried though, as we wound up winning the game fairly easily (3-0) and it was an absolute joy to behold. Football eh? It’s only a game and yet somehow, it’s really much, much more than that!

Making plans for a bit of a meet up. I live a long way from both of my childhood best friends. One of them, I see a few times a year as he lives in the town where I grew up, so a visit to see family will always take in a meet up with him and his family.

However, the other spends a lot of his year living abroad as part of his job. We haven’t seen each other in a good few years, so when we were exchanging messages a few months back we came up with the idea of a meet up. It’s something we’ve often floated in the past but it just never seems to happen.

This time though, things are looking good and the provisional idea is that we’re going to meet somewhere that is reasonably equidistant to our houses and go for a hike. It might be in the Peak District, which also happens to be one of my favourite regions of England. We’ve not quite got anything concrete planned as yet, but I’m right in the middle of planning and for once, it looks like we will actually see this one through. Definitely a reason to smile.

Some good news on the running front. Regular readers of my blog will be familiar with my love of running. People who are new to the blog, forgive me; it’s something that I never tire of banging on about and I’m probably very much a running bore!

Anyway, so far this January I’ve managed to get myself entered for two 10k races – one in March and one in May – and my training is going fairly well. I’ve not pushed myself too hard, but have still been regularly going out and running between 5 and 6 miles a week. And as of yesterday, I learnt that the 10k I’m taking part in this March will also feature several mates from work, which is always good fun. It’s always lovely to see people at these things, not least because they’re all incredibly encouraging.

I still get incredibly nervous at these things and nowadays am always worried that something will go wrong and that I’ll have another episode with my heart, however unlikely that might be. So, when I’m getting ready to run, I know that I’ll probably bump into someone that will ask about my health, my pacemaker and just really help to calm me down. And that, dear reader, will at least make me smile a tiny bit.

Yoga. Several years ago and with more than a hint of cynicism, I was persuaded to give yoga a try. I was sure it wouldn’t be for me and sure, given the fitness I thought I already had that it’d be a breeze. I quickly learnt that it was very tough going indeed.

However, I loved doing yoga from that very first session and although it confirmed my lack of flexibility, I was keen at least! Sadly, with the pressures of work and having a young family we ended up giving it up after about 6 months. We always thought we’d start again fairly soon. That didn’t transpire though.

This January my wife suggested we try again and given that I seem to be constantly training for something or other, I was quickly in agreement. We started about three weeks ago and have been doing a couple of sessions per week. We’re not attending classes, just using the YouTube app on the television to follow the regime of one of many yoga instructors out there, but it’s working.

I have to say, I’m loving it once again. Yoga is generally tough, especially when you’re as inflexible as me, but it helps me to relax and I know that in another few weeks I’ll start to reap the benefits. So, when I’m stuck in some ridiculous position, every sinew straining, my body probably wobbling a bit with the pressure of that particular pose, you can be sure that a smile won’t be far away.

If you’ve never tried yoga I can definitely recommend it!

The Joys of Volunteering

For the last few months I’ve been trying something a little bit different. It started with just giving my son a lift to where he was going and then curiosity and trying to be a good dad somehow got the better of me. Now, I seem to be a fully fledged volunteer!

In actual fact, the whole thing really started around a year ago. My son had decided to do his Bronze for the Duke of Edinburgh Award and as part of his challenge he had to do 6 months worth of volunteering and so, following in his sister’s footsteps, he started helping out at a local Parkrun. For the majority of the time there were four of them, all friends, doing this. But then occasionally it’d just be him and so I got involved and stood marshalling with him on various parts of the course. Often cold, but always bearable!

When he decided to then do his Silver D of E award we thought he’d change his volunteering to something else. But he didn’t and so here we are again!

For the first few weeks I would just drop him off and then go for a long walk around the country park that the run takes place in. After all, it wasn’t me who was taking part in the Duke of Edinburgh award and besides, I saw my Saturday morning hike as good recovery time, as my heart operation was a few months previous. The exercise combined with that early morning solitude was blissful!

Then, one week my son asked if I fancied joining in and doing some marshalling with him. Having done a few weeks scanning the barcodes of the finishers he fancied a change and so of course, in my quest to be dad of the year, I said yes.

There are loads of different roles that you can volunteer for at a Parkrun. I had a look at our latest roster and that told me that there were 15 different jobs to choose from. You can fulfil various roles at the finish, as well as tail walking with the last participant, be it a runner or walker. And in marshalling alone, we have 11 different checkpoints to fill. So, there’s a lot of variation in what you can choose to be doing in supporting the runners.

As a marshall, all we really do is watch the runners come past our checkpoint, keep an eye out for any problems, answer any questions and make sure no one walks across the course as the runners approach. Oh, and clapping. We do a lot of clapping and encouraging.

Of course, it’s been winter and so the conditions have been cold, to say the least. The standing around doesn’t help either and in fact it can leave me in a bit of pain as my back and my feet don’t seem keen on just standing. A couple of weeks ago we were soaked to the skin, despite wearing heavy coats, as the rain was just torrential. But the race went on! It made me look forward to Spring and the weather being a bit warmer though!

Volunteering always leaves me in a good mood. For a start, there’s the sense of pride that you get in just being able to help out. It’s nice that lots of the runners will actively thank us as they go round. I always think it’s nice to be appreciated, even though it feels strange to be thanked when the runners are the ones exerting themselves! But at a time when my mental health hasn’t always been good it’s a welcome boost.

It’s nice to feel like part of something too. There’s a friendliness and a sense of community amongst both runners and volunteers and although I’m quite quiet and don’t really talk to too many people, it always feels like we’re welcome and very much appreciated. And of course it’s good to spend some quality time with my son too, despite the early mornings!

In the future, perhaps in retirement I’d like to do more volunteering. We’ve talked about helping out at one of the RSPB reserves as it’s something that’s been of interest for a while. I’d like to volunteer with the homeless too. I think that given I’ll have a bit more time to play with once I’m retired or at least semi retired, it’d be good to use that to help others.

In the meantime, volunteering is something that I’d actively encourage anyone to try. It can get you exercise and undoubtedly helps with your mental health. The fresh air alone is really important to me.

If you’re thinking of volunteering, there are over 1200 different Parkruns around the U.K. It’s easy to do, even if it is quite early on a Saturday or Sunday morning and the rewards are great. I can’t guarantee the weather, but it’s something that I’d definitely recommend. Give it a go, it might just make a really positive change in your life!

The Pacemaker Diaries – One year on…

So it turns out that last week had a number of big days. Huge, in fact because last week marked a year since I had my pacemaker fitted.

I remember it well. Of course I do. At the beginning of that week I had realised that I was seriously ill. Even then, I didn’t know what the problem was – but it had been going on for months – and when I was admitted to hospital I still just thought they’d keep me in overnight and send me home with some tablets that would miraculously make everything alright again. My heart wouldn’t keep me awake at night. There would be no more listening for it and wondering if it had stopped.

The morning came and a lovely cardiologist disappointed me with his lack of tablets, then stunned me with his talk of a pacemaker. Despite protesting – “those things are for pensioners, man” – I was very quickly put in my place. “Put it this way, your heart stopped for over 4 seconds last night.” The other option was not to do it, but to lose my driving licence and then start worrying about my job. After all, it’s not normal or safe to be blacking out left, right and centre and I was told that this was likely.

“I think we’ll fit that pacemaker then!”

I laughed about it but I was crying inside. I was far too young for this. And I didn’t have a clue what it actually meant. At least I felt safe in the hospital, but it was a lot to take in. Still is.

The next day, just after 11am, I was wheeled down to theatre, talked through what was going to happen and then they just got on with it. The whole place was calm, jovial even. I was terrified. But do you know what, the more people singing along to the radio while performing your heart surgery, the more comforting it gets!

Later, back on the ward, there was the kind of drama that you never expect to be involved in, as my pacemaker failed and my heart monitor set off every alarm within a five mile radius. At least it felt that way. My heart decided it was time for yet another episode and the palpitations started with a vengeance. Doctors and nurses crowded around my bed, assuring me that help was on the way while I watched a monitor until my heartbeat hit 209bpm. At that point someone took the sensible decision of moving the monitor out of my eyeline.

It turned out fine. Someone from the cardiology department fixed it all online and in as much of a matter of fact way as was humanly possible. While I felt like I was quietly awaiting the grim reaper or a lovely warm light or whatever death looks like (various deceased comedy legends welcoming me ‘home’ and saying they’re my biggest fans?), him and his machine had “a chat with” my pacemaker. It worked.

The next day I was released back into the wild, not really knowing what awaited me. In truth, I didn’t really know if I could make it to the car without stopping for a rest. I imagined though that it might mean a couple of weeks off work. It was four months later that I finally went back.

It’s been a weird year. In some ways I feel worse than ever. It definitely did something to me, mentally and I do find it difficult to motivate myself. On the other hand though, I’m running regularly and actually feel fitter than ever. There have been three 10k races in the last 6 months or so and I feel like I’ve proved a bit of a point to myself. I’m still not quite convinced though.

I can feel my pacemaker every day. When I put on deoderant or have a wash, it’s there. Sometimes, I catch it a bit and it hurts. Occasionally, when I’m carrying a box or something of any decent size, it might rebound on to my chest and boy does it sting! The wires sit there, just above my scar and the pacemaker and they’re right there, just underneath the surface of my chest. Place a finger there and it’s almost like you could pluck them out with a little bit of effort. Not that I’m encouraging anyone to try! I think this is a consequence of me not being very well built; another reason to curse my body! And if you look closely, through my lustrous chest hair, you can actually see the outline shape of the pacemaker itself. How attractive!

There have been no more scares though. No more lying awake at night listening to my heart and wondering what it’s doing. So, the pacemaker is actually a comfort. My heart works which is rather nice.

For a long, long time I was fatigued. I felt like I’d never get better or feel like myself again. My body seemed to take an age to come to terms with what had happened. Coming off beta-blockers helped, but didn’t solve it. From my third day back at home I was going for a daily walk. At first, it was just 10 minutes, but being as bloody-minded as I am I worked that upwards as quickly as I could. But I’d be capable of very little else once I was done and days would simply drift past. Months later, when I felt capable to run a short distance, it would take the rest of the day to recover. In short, for months I just felt terrible. My body ached and I generally felt exhausted. I’d be out of breath easily and immensely frustrated by this.

It’s really not an exaggeration to say that this last year has been a real battle. I’ve felt incredibly low at times – and still have periods like that to this day – and I’ve had to work really hard to keep myself going. I’ve suffered with terrible bouts of sadness, that I didn’t imagine would be possible for me; not just feeling sorry for myself, but genuinely feeling sad, tearful and lonely about life and how things were turning out. The pacemaker made me angry and in truth, I still can’t get my head around the fact that I have to have it.

I regularly remind myself of how lucky I am though. It’d be too easy to just sort of give up and feel sorry for myself. I was almost discharged from hospital before I’d even got to a ward. Only a last minute check showed any kind of problem and only when a senior cardiologist had looked at it all properly was it decided that I had to have a pacemaker. I was actually minutes from going home, so who knows what could have happened? Clearly, I’m lucky though. I’m still here, my quality of life is good and although there are still one or two flutters with my heart now and again, I’m fairly confident that my pacemaker has it all covered!

What I’ve learnt over the course of the last 12 months is that it’s going to take me a while to recover fully and to feel like I’m back to my normal self again. I was ill for months before I got treated – my own fault because I hid what was wrong. But I think that has taken its toll. As I said earlier, I still struggle mentally but I don’t have as many low periods as before. Normal life with work and everything else has helped. But I’ve learnt that I really do have the strength to come back from adversity. Maybe, in another year’s time I’ll have consigned pacemaker diaries to the back of my mind. Maybe.

Hopefully, the future is a bit happier and healthier! Maybe I’ll get to change my tune and write about that instead!

Middle Aged Gigging – ‘Embrace’ at Leeds O2 Academy…on a school night!

I’m quite sure that nothing can make you feel older or more middle aged than a night out. Not a party with friends or meeting people you know for whatever it might be; no, a night out. In public, with people that you have little or no knowledge of beforehand. Going to a gig is a prime example of this. Thursday night at Embrace was no different for a couple of reasons!

As is now usual, we get to the Leeds Academy early. Having had heart surgery last year, the barrier offers protection for this paranoid old fella, so it’s become our home from home at gigs. However, beyond the comfort, you can never resist a look round and tonight when I do, I’m greeted by a very definite feeling that the usually familiar middle aged audience at an Embrace gig has been infiltrated by…youth! Not even a smattering. Tribes of the buggers, pockets of them everywhere you turn. As I said, there’s nothing that can match their power in making you feel old. And it’s not long before it gets worse.

Within minutes support band The Slates take to the stage. Immediately I’m thinking, ‘I could be all of your dads’. They’re sooo young! And yet, from the first chords of the opener tonight, I’m nothing but impressed. The energy is brilliant and you can’t help but root for these lads. The sight of them does remind me that I have to teach my Year 10s first thing in the morning though. Regardless, their set just makes me smile. Stand out tracks would be ‘What Have You Done?’ and ‘Hello, don’t you know’?, but in truth it’s all impressive from The Slates who look and sound like a band with a bright future ahead of them, even if they do make me feel ancient.

There’s a hint of early Arctic Monkeys in there and you can hear the Britpop, but there’s also some ska at times, which given their age and the era of music that they must have grown up with, brings to mind the influence of The Ordinary Boys. Whatever their influences, it doesn’t really matter. The Slates are excellent tonight and they throw themselves into this gig, clearly enjoying their moment. Subsequently, it’s infectious and I’m sure that they’ll leave with more than a few more fans tonight. I’ll definitely be searching out their music.

After a quick shuffle around of equipment on stage it’s time for another support act; Tom Speight. The energy is certainly no less, but it’s different. Tom Speight is, as the name suggests, a solo artist, although he is backed by another singer, a girl who I think he called Hedara who had a great voice (apologies though if I’ve got the name wrong). His music is kind of folky and there’s more than a nod to the pop of the likes of Turin Brakes and maybe even Starsailor.

Speight’s set is energetic and he makes an immediate impact on the crowd. He does a remarkable job of ‘filling’ the room with his sound, given that this is just two voices and a guitar. Both voices though, are strong and emotive and they work really well together. It’s not long before we’re tapping and nodding along and later, with a little bit of persuasion we’re singing along too. Songs like ‘Wonderful Wonder’ and ‘Everything’s Waiting For You’ go down really well and by the time the set ends, we’ve been teed up nicely for the return of Embrace.

Tonight Embrace are performing their album ‘The Good Will Out’ in full as part of its 25th Anniversary celebrations. Suddenly, my age isn’t an issue! I fell in love with these songs and this band a long, long time ago so it’s safe to say that I’m excited to be right at the front for the gig. It’s also a year to the day since I had heart surgery, so it’s a lovely way to celebrate getting through what’s been a tough year.

There’s a hero’s welcome for the band when they take the stage and it’s not long before they’ve launched into opener ‘All You Good Good People’. The pace is set and it’s just going to be our job to keep up now. But it won’t be a problem. I can’t hold back a huge smile at the first line, ‘I feel like I’m meant something’ and as if I needed a reminder on this day of all days, it’s good to be alive. It feels like the whole room is taking off with everyone singing every lyric and as is always the case with Embrace, it’s a joy to be here.

By the time we’ve reached one of my all time favourite songs, ‘One Big Family’, the atmosphere is electric. It’s always great to see a band on home turf as the atmosphere is generally special. Tonight is no exception. By the end of the track I’m well and truly out of breath and realise that I’d been more or less screaming the lyrics back at the band, so if you were at the front and near a skinny bloke in a black t-shirt with a white beard, I can only apologise. Mind you, I’ll only have to do it again, because I was probably even screechier during ‘Retread’.

Discussing the gig on our way back to the car afterwards we talked about the emotion of seeing Embrace and the fact that it feels like a happening rather than simply entertainment. It’s what I imagine being in church feels like when there’s a gospel choir, simply because I feel like I’m almost lifted up and carried along by the band and the songs. There’s no doubt that the chief protagonist in all of this is singer Danny, who never fails to get the crowd going and he’s on good form tonight and clearly enjoying himself, even encouraging us – even the old folk – to dance during some of the songs. I tried Danny, I tried…

Obviously, given my attachment to the songs, I’d say that the whole album is done wonderfully tonight. But for me, the middle section of tracks ‘I Want The World’, ‘You’ve Got To Say Yes’ ‘Retread’ and ‘Last Gas’ is absolutely blistering.

As we end the set with the ‘la la la la’ singalong that is ‘The Good Will Out’ it’s clear that everyone’s had a wonderful night. As ever, I’m left wondering just how long an Embrace crowd would willingly do the ‘la la las’ for if we were just left to it. Hours, I’d wager. Brilliantly though (and sadly, if you love a ‘la la la’), with a ‘greatest hits’ style encore to come, it’s not quite done.

There are five songs on the encore tonight. ‘We Are It’, ‘Refugees’, ‘Dry Kids’ ‘Gravity’ and ‘Ashes’ – all are amazing. Dry Kids makes a welcome return and Gravity – the first dance at our wedding – has me tearing up as usual (middle age can be a funny old thing, kids). Before them though is Refugees which is just incredible and Richard’s vocals are simply superb. I’m a little bit spellbound by Mike’s drumming on this track too and I’m absolutely knackered by the end of it, which is unfortunate because as we all know, we’re ending with live favourite Ashes.

When it comes, I think we all summon up a last little bit of energy and there are people pogoing everywhere you look. As ever, ‘Ashes’ feels like an event in itself and I think I might have run out of superlatives at this point. Suffice to say, that it’s just another moment where I’m thankful to be here because as tired as I feel, it’s nothing short of a pleasure to be able to completely lose myself in what is an absolute tune.

It’s been a brilliant night, again. Twenty five years of ‘The Good Will Out’ and a little bit more than that of watching Embrace live. We’re off to bed late on a school night, but I’m sure my Year 10s will understand!

Poetry Blog: Leaves on the grass

A poem about Autumn, this one. It’s the kind of thing I’d usually write and then forget about, only to discover it sometime later and add it on here…in Spring. Not this time though! This time, I’m unusually on the ball!

‘Leaves on the grass’ was written after a particularly strenuous weekend of clearing leaves from our back garden. I felt rather pleased with myself for doing it, if I’m honest, as it’s the kind of job that is usually left to wait by me. Then, I end up having to do it in the freezing cold of late November or early December when the ground is wet and I end up filthy and soaked. This year though, it was a spur of the moment decision on a particularly sunny weekend when I felt a bit more energetic than usual. And so, old clothes on and gardening gloves firmly in place, I dragged our brown bin onto the lawn and got cracking.

The resultant poem came after when I felt thoroughly work out by my exertions. Here you go.

Leaves on the grass.

First, it's leaves on the grass,
suddenly noticeable,
a dozen at most
but added to daily
and then, months after shedding blossom,
small brown, red, green eye shapes
decorate the edges of the tarmac on the driveway,
escaping in the coming days onto the car, the road 
and when you look again
the falling Autumn rain
seems to gradually erase all colour,
like a life slowly sliding away,
too weak to fight, too old to care anymore,
too afraid of losing all dignity 
to heave on anything too bright,
visible again by scrolling through images on a phone,
a reminder of a distant rousing prime,
gone, but not quite forgotten,
stirred occasionally by the thrilling glee
of a fresh bright morning
when the fountain of youth seems to flow
without fear and we stride out 
and marvel at the amber and gold
before it leaves us again
and we brace ourselves, steeled
for the cold and the dark of what comes next.

There is a more thoughtful side to the poem. It’s not just about Autumn in that I’ve tried to add something about ageing and life in there too. I think a nod to Gillian Clarke’s poem ‘October’ must be given here as I’ve tried to look at similar themes, if only briefly.

I tried to capture the sense of getting older here – perhaps after feeling so bloody tired once I’d finished doing the leaves – as well as the feelings I regularly have about being so tired out by things that wouldn’t have normally had such a great effect on me. So, there’s a brief few lines about getting older (Autumn being late in the year) and catching sight of your younger self in photographs. This was after my wife sent me a photo of me at my son’s nursery sports day, some time ago. It shocked me to see just how young I looked and made me think about maybe feeling slightly self conscious (or just even more self conscious) I’ve become after a health scare.

Hopefully, the poem ends on a cheerful, hopeful note. There are lines about going out for a walk in the bright, bracing cold of an Autumn day and enjoying the vivid colours of the season and I think that’s me being about as optimistic as I ever get.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the poem. Feel free to leave some feedback as I always enjoy reading people’s comments.

Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life…5 Things that made me smile in September.

If I’m brutally honest, I didn’t feel much like smiling in September. As if summer wasn’t bad enough with mental and physical health issues we also had months of pretty tragic weather. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t fully expect weeks of bright sunshine and searing heat, but constant rain and an average temperature of about 14 degrees isn’t exactly food for the soul! And of course, September is the month that us teachers get to start a new academic year all over again!

However, there were still just about enough reasons to be cheerful, so here they are.

I got my running buddy back! When he was much younger, my son used to come out running with me on a regular basis. He showed a real talent for running and although he might have the odd grumble, he was able to cover good distances without too much trouble. And then he became a teenager! Despite having real potential as a runner, he simply stopped doing it and I was left running on my own, an kind of X-Box widower, if you like. Fast forward about 3 years and as part of his Silver Duke of Edinburgh he’s chosen to do running as a sporting option. The funny part of it is that he doesn’t want to come out on any evening runs because he might see people he knows! Sadly for him, that means he’s got to be up at 6.30am every Saturday now, but he’s done it without too much grumbling. It’s lovely to have him back though.
Claude the Koala. I read a brilliant story about a koala bear in the news at the start of last month. It really made me laugh! Apparently an Australian garden centre owner was left completely without answers about who or what was eating his seedlings. It could have been goats, it could have been possums, but he didn’t actually know. And then one morning he discovered the culprit, lying somewhat ‘food drunk’ in amongst the eucalyptus plants. A koala, eating the very plants that were being grown to help out his own endangered species in the region! Even when they moved him on, he came back night after night. So now, they’re having to build koala proof fencing to keep him out. There can’t be anyone who doesn’t manage a smile at Claude looking incredibly guilty below!

3. Being back among friends at work. I’ve written elsewhere about summer being a tough time for me mentally. I’ve never felt so sad. And despite my dread of going back to work after the summer break, it’s been wonderful to be back amongst my friends. Hard work, but they make it lovely. So many people have enquired as to my health and been genuinely kind, but being back among our English Department team has been the best part of it. Plenty of laughs, loads of cynicism and just a lot of fun. Thanks ladies! 4. The World Stone Skimming Championships. How have I never heard about this before now? Apparently the World Championships are held each year on Easdale island in the Hebrides. For the uninitiated, stone skimming is exactly what it sounds like. You get a preferably flat stone and throw it in a particular way so that it skims across the surface of the water. It’s always been a cracking seaside tradition in the UK. So, reading about the fact that there’s a world championships for such a dad skill made me smile! It also made me remember that just this summer, on several beaches in Wales, I introduced my son to stone skimming, meaning that for a few days, every time we went anywhere near water the both of us would be scanning the shore for the perfect skimming stone. He got the hang of it quite quickly, but it made me smile to remember that I was still the best! Dads, eh? 5. Year 7. Another year and another group of young people make the transition to high school. Bright eyed, smartly dressed and kind of ready to learn. They’re sat up straight in your lesson, not complaining about English, being tired, the weather, the temperature of the room, the lights in the room or literally anything else that might just put them off doing any work. For a while, they’re an absolute joy to work with. Yes, some can be a bit needy, but that’s ok. This is a big old change they’re making. I have two groups of Year 7s in English this year, plus a group for History and one for PHSCE and I’m genuinely enjoying teaching them. Perhaps it’s the heightened positive approach I’m deliberately taking this year, but those year 7s are a little pool of light in an ocean of darkness at the minute!

So there you go – even when it’s been a tough month and you’re not feeling particularly enthusiastic and bright, there are always a few things that might just make us smile!

Running: The Morley 10k, 2023.

Last Sunday, the 8th October saw the second ever Morley 10k race. It marked a quite significant date for me personally too though, as it was almost 11 months since I had the heart surgery to have my pacemaker fitted.

It’s been something of an eventful (almost) year. Sadly more downs than ups too, but all of that has been well documented in other blog posts throughout the last 11 months. However, when I was in hospital I made a vow that I’d complete at least three 10k races by the time my one year pacemaker anniversary came around. Sunday was the third and it was significant because it had also been the last one I’d done before everything went wrong for me in October and November of last year. Here’s how it went.

I felt sick with nerves as I stood on the start line. My family were a only few metres away on the pavement and on more than one occasion it crossed my mind to go and join them and tell them that I couldn’t do the race. People felt too close, it was too warm and the hill that we were starting on looked as daunting as hell, even though I’d ran it countless times before. The day before I’d been genuinely excited about it, but now, around an hour and 10km away from the finish line almost everything was telling me just to walk home.

Start lines of races can be funny things for me. Sometimes, I stand there feeling genuinely intimidated. Everyone seems fitter and younger than me. They’ve got much better trainers. And when I’m feeling particularly sorry for myself, none of them have health problems like me, either. Stupid really, but that’s how it can be. On other occasions, you get the feeling that everyone wants everyone else to have the race of their life. The excitement is palpable and the atmosphere is infectiously positive.

Thankfully though, I talked myself out of any silly decisions and got myself across the start line bang on 9am!

It’s a hilly course and while I won’t talk you through every step, there’s a lot to talk about and almost all of it involves running. Firstly, quite a few of the town came out to show their appreciation of the nine hundred and odd of us who thought it was a good idea to be up and running so early on a Sunday morning. Perhaps they were a bit bewildered by it all and who could blame them, but I really hope that the event grows and grows and becomes a staple for both runners and residents, because it was genuinely lovely to see people out cheering us on and from a personal point of view, it’s a real boost. I still don’t believe the stewards who shout out stuff like, ‘You’re looking good!’ as I pass, but by God their positivity helps! For the record though, I generally look like a tall, skinny bloke whose head has been replaced by a sweaty red balloon when I’m running, so cheers to anyone who puts a positive spin on that!

On Sunday, it quickly became apparent that my legs weren’t feeling too powerful. If you’ve seen them, you’ll know why! But I’d put the training in; plenty of runs, lots of hills, lots of 10ks and lots of other exercise. So, it was a bit of a puzzle, but I just put it down to my mood more than anything else and tried to relax as best I could.

Having got through the first long climb, we turned right and ran through Morley town centre and then down the hill towards Morley Bottoms. The flat and the downhill was much appreciated and gave me the chance to gather my thoughts a little bit, as well as picking up a little bit of pace. By the time we came to another long climb I was well into my running and it felt like I was coping well. It helps knowing the route so well, although I hadn’t ran it this year in preparation, but I’d had plenty of practice at hills as it can feel like that’s all Morley is at times!

Once we’d climbed said hill it was time to double back on ourselves and the race takes to the other side of the road and back down again. By this point several of the leaders had long since passed us as well as probably a couple of hundred others who all looked like they were coping better than me! I opened my stride a bit on the downhill section and, realising that we had at least a mile of downhill or flat sections, decided that it was time to start finding a bit of pace. Halfway back down the hill I spotted something on the other side, still climbing the hill that spurred me on even more – someone running in a T-Rex suit! Dodgy heart or not, I was not being caught by that!

I knew that picking up the pace could be a risky strategy though. I didn’t feel quite right and was wary of simply running out of steam by the end when, surprise surprise, you head up a really steep incline to the finish. That said, I knew my family would be waiting anxiously at the end of this section, given my health issues and so I felt it was better to get to them sooner rather than later.

Morley Bottoms on race day is fantastic. Just a wall of noise and smiling faces. It felt great to run through and although I couldn’t see my family for a while, I spotted them eventually and gave them the thumbs up as I actually wasn’t feeling too bad. Shortly after passing them was the halfway point and knowing the route, it felt like the end was almost in sight.

My plan from the start was to try and run around 55 minutes, but it wasn’t long before the pacer had passed me. However, by the time we’d got to around 4 and a half miles I’d caught him again. Sadly, as we began to climb another hill, I lost him once more! I stayed optimistic by reminding myself that the T-Rex still hadn’t caught me though!

By the time I got to Morley Bottoms for the second time and almost the finish, the place seemed to have got even louder and more enthusiastic. I was feeling genuinely sick though, so the noise and the fact that a couple of people – cheers Steve and the lass that I didn’t recognise! – called out my name, which again was a timely boost. I was almost there.

The hill up from Morley Bottoms turned into my own personal Everest! It’s so steep! Virtually all strength drained away from my legs straight away and it was a case of just keeping moving. I almost convinced myself to stop and walk, but kept going as there was so much encouragement and I was utterly relieved to reach the point where it evens out a bit.

As we passed the town hall I heard my family before I saw them and again it provided a timely boost. Bizarrely, it prompted a sprint finish from me too, something I didn’t realise I had in my locker any more at my age. The heart didn’t matter, the tired legs and aching body were of no concern and by the time I crossed the line I was catching the few people in front of my having gone past one or two in the last hundred yards!

I thought I’d be emotional, but wasn’t. I was just elated. The time wasn’t quite what I wanted, but it wasn’t half bad for a bloke with a dodgy heart and pipe cleaners for legs. And anyway, when everyone looks so pleased and the whole town is out cheering you on, it’s kind of difficult to start crying in front of the post office!

So clutching my medal and my bag of sweets – they’d ran out of water, apparently – I scanned the crowd until I found my family again, reassured the kids I was ok, had some photos taken and then we all wandered off happily back down the inevitable hill to go home.

Big thanks to Morley Running Club for everything they do to put this brilliant event together. Same time next year?

Category: Life