This one is an autobiographical poem. It’s about a lot of things in my life, but mainly things that have happened, or feelings that I’ve felt since I left home to go to university. It was a long time ago, but due to the upheaval it’s something that I probably still think about every day.
I’m from a city in the North East of England called Newcastle Upon Tyne. If you’re from the U.K no doubt you’ll know of it. If you’re anywhere else, you may still have heard of it and if not, give it a Google; have a look at the bridges and stuff, because it’s a wonderful place. For my money, it’s the greatest city on the planet, but then we’d all make that claim, wouldn’t we? Trust me, I’m right though because it’s a city that seems to make an indelible impact on its people and it certainly did on me.
I lived in Newcastle until I was 19 and can vividly remember, aged 18, telling my Year 13 form tutor that I’d never leave. I genuinely couldn’t envisage a time when I’d leave the place. There just wasn’t going to be a reason to take such drastic action. And then there was, so I left. After 3 years away at university I spent another 5 or 6 months back at home, trying to find a job that never came my way. This was ’90s Newcastle and it felt like I’d never get a break in a city that seemed like it was being cut adrift by a government that had all but destroyed all of our industry. So, I headed south to the Midlands to move in with the girl that later became my wife. We’re still together and nearly 30 years later I still live away from ‘home’, but closer now at least, in Yorkshire.
Roots
Geordie jeans and a head full of dreams
you left your home town, not even suspecting
that you'd never return.
The bridges, the monument, the shops and
even the river would lose their warm familiarity
and before too long become almost alien,
making you feel strange, yet not a stranger,
displaced, without roots
and never quite at home, wherever you went.
Every turn presented another stage of
cultural change and gentrification
while you stood still, a statue without a plinth,
slowly shrinking into yourself
until you didn't really recognise who or what
you'd become, functioning behind a mask.
No direction and the wrong turn at every junction,
when the road forked you found the dead end,
falling into a self made trap, again and again
with only glimpses of light to keep you from the dark,
so that even the way ahead was stumbled upon
and even then only chance would keep you from being
back to square one.
The beacon at your side the only part
of those last ten years,
to stave off the loneliness and put you
back together when,
you'd fallen off the wall again and again,
so that now, still Geordie jeans and a head full of dreams,
there's a reason to face each new day
and a heart to call a home.
The poem is about moving away and then watching the city change. That might have been changing in that I lost my sense of belonging there but also lost the ‘geography’ of the place, if you like so that however often I went back there would be more and more times when I just couldn’t remember my way around or couldn’t place things anymore. Add in the fact that my parents moved from my childhood home to a new village and it all led to me feeling a little alien in and around Newcastle.
The city also grew and was given a bit of a facelift in certain areas, making it far less recognisable and far more difficult to feel at ‘home’ in. Gradually, while I didn’t fall out of love with the city, I began to feel like I just didn’t really know it anymore which was heartbreaking given how attached to the place I had been growing up.
The Geordie jeans bit is about clothing, but heritage as well. There’s jeans and genes in there. The genes are obvious, I suppose. ‘Geordie Jeans’ however was, shall we say, a clothes shop when I was growing up that was a bit ‘budget’, but it was all that my parents could afford. So, I’d be kitted out for home and school in their stuff and very self conscious about it as a teenager.
The latter end of the poem is about all of those feelings coming together to have an adverse effect on my mental health. When we first moved away I knew we wouldn’t stay there, it was just after leaving university too, so there was career uncertainty too. If I’m honest, that’s stayed with me right up until the present day, as much as I love my job and the place where I live.
There’s a little bit of optimism towards the end of the poem. I still retain those dreams, however far away they might seem and as I said earlier, I still have my wife by my side looking after me and giving me strength wherever I go and in whatever I do.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the poem. It’s opened up a few ideas along similar lines in my head, so I might write more about those times if I can find the time.
So, the summer holidays are almost upon us and parents everywhere are facing up to a big shift in their routine. Soon, you’ll no longer be packing the kids off to school before finally finding some time to breath in a morning that’s probably already felt like it was an entire day. Soon, those kids are all yours again for a hectic 6 week period!
So, what can you do to fill those long hours? Well, I might just have some useful and hopefully affordable solutions.
My children are both a bit older now and so we don’t get to go to some of the types of places that I’ll list, but the first one is still popular, despite my eldest now being 17.
Farm parks are always a winner with kids. Obviously there are always plenty of animals to look at and at some of the parks you can even let your little (or big) ones pet the animals. Such is their popularity that lots of farm parks have expanded over the last decade or so and include a wide range of experiences for your kids to enjoy, like tractor rides, sheep racing, adventure play grounds and even mini golf.
Farm Parks are very much a growing industry and as such can be found all over the country. We have Cannon Hall Farm down in Barnsley, which is only about a half hour drive away and it’s absolutely fantastic for kids, making it very popular indeed. My daughter still insists we go every summer, even though she’s just turned 17 and my almost 14-year-old son always enjoys himself too.
A quick Google search showed me that there are enticing farm parks in almost every region and Trip Advisor lists some of the best as being in the Cotswolds, Essex, West Yorkshire, Stratford, Devon and Shropshire. There are plenty to choose from in both Wales and Scotland too.
Prices vary and a good tip is to visit on a weekday when many parks reduce their rates. Our local one at Cannon Hall only charges £6.95 for adults and children over 2 on weekdays, meaning a family day out for under £30, which is brilliant!
Den Building. This is something I’ve written about before and it’s always a winner with kids. It’s free too! Just get yourself along to your local woods, pick a spot to build a den and then get the kids scavenging for materials to build with. Make sure that you’re not breaking branches off trees though! Lots of places regularly trim their tress though, meaning that if you keep your eyes out there’ll be a ready supply of logs and branches to build with. Combine your den building with a walk through the forest and maybe even a picnic and you’ve got at least a fun few hours out for everyone. And if you’re not sure where to start there are some den building tips on the link below.
Picnics! The idea of eating outdoors – or just anywhere that’s not a table – is always exciting for children. So, knock up whatever your kids love to eat – usually some sandwiches, sausage rolls, fruit, juice and a few sweet treats for ours – and head to the park. You could fill a bit of time on the swings or even liven up your day with some games. I bought a plastic and foam baseball set (bat and ball) in Asda years ago and it’s provided hours of fun for us as a family playing a hybrid game of rounders and cricket. We still use it now when we head to places like Roundhay Park, in fact! All that fresh air and running around never fails to help them sleep and a decent picnic ensures full tummies too!
Plodging! Plodging, I hear you ask. Well, let me educate you a little bit. Plodging is in fact the art of wandering around in a body of water and kids absolutely love it. My two loved being able to get their wellies on and go in the streams of our local country parks and in fact, they awarded me a trophy not long ago and I reckon my role in their plodging history was what earned it for me.
The coveted ‘World’s Greatest Dad’ glasses case really is the big one in the dad awards world!
Obviously you have to keep a close eye on them, but it’s always fun. You can even go in with them, especially if they’re younger, but it’s about common sense, I suppose. Stick to the shallows and don’t let anyone get too adventurous! You could make things more interesting seeing who can find the shiniest rocks or best shells if you’re at the seaside or even come back out and try skimming stones. And don’t knock grabbing rocks, by the way; my son used to love doing this and amassed quite the collection as the years went by! I think he might even still have some!
Museums. Museums provide an excellent experience for kids. And many of them are totally free! The best bit is that the UK has loads of museums covering a wealth of different subject matter, so there’s sure to be something for your kids.
My home town of Newcastle has both the Discovery Museum and the Great North Museum, as well as Beamish, The Living Museum of The North slightly further afield, while where I live now in Yorkshire we have Eureka, The National Children’s Museum, the National Film and Photography Museum, the Leeds Museum, The Thackray Medical Museum, The Royal Armouries, as well as the Railway Museum in York and lots of others.
While doing some research for the article, I also discovered the wonderful Manchester Museum, the brilliant Kelham Island Museum in Sheffield, the Coventry Transport Museum, The National Football Museum in Manchester, The National Museum of Scotland, The North Lincolnshire Museum in Scunthorpe, The Blaise Castle House Museum in Bristol and the Pitt Rivers Museum in Oxford. The list could go on and on and we haven’t even looked at London!
Lots of museums nowadays are interactive and child friendly, so it’s not just a couple of hours of staring at objects in glass cases, which might well bore even the most patient of children. From descending down an old mineshaft in one of a surprising number of mining museums that we have, to riding around cobbled streets on a tram or old trolley bus at Beamish, there are a whole host of options to explore and there’s sure to be a fantastic museum near you.
The Beach. Surrounded by water as we are here in the UK, lots of us are lucky enough to have a beach somewhere that’s reasonably close. Living in Leeds, we’re very much landlocked and the likes of Scarborough and Bridlington are a good hour and a half drive away, so days out at the beach are few and far between. But we are able to recreate the beach experience at places like Bolton Abbey where we can sit at the side of the river and safely plodge, if needed!
The beach always has something to do though and it’s generally relatively inexpensive. You could dig holes, build sandcastles, go rock-pooling, play bat and ball or even hold a beach Olympics and it’s going to cost you very little, especially if you’re lucky enough to live close to the sea. Just make sure that you check out the weather forecast in advance!
Country Parks. Again, living in Yorkshire we’re blessed with quite a few of these nearby and they still provide a good day out with our kids, even at the cynical, moody ages they’re at now!
Many country parks have play areas, adventure playgrounds, trails to walk and other fun to be had, but really a day at the park is exactly what you make it. We would always take stuff to do; a kite, bats and balls, a football and even an insect hunting kit at one stage! Younger ones can even just be told they’re going exploring and they’ll enjoy the mystery of that…as long as you add some drama. The link below picks out some of the best ones in the UK.
So hopefully there’s a bit of inspiration there that helps you or yours out this summer. It can feel like a long time to be with your children day in, day out, but it can be made more than memorable with a little bit of thought. And as you can see, it doesn’t have to cost the earth either!
In April we took the chance to take a long haul ‘trip of a lifetime’ with our children. It was a window of opportunity that was too good to miss, given that our kids are either taking big exams next year or starting a vital stage of their education. So, off we went.
You might have read about our trip to Toronto, which was the first leg of our holiday. It’s on the link below, if not.
For the second leg we decided to do some sightseeing in Washington DC. So, here’s our Top Ten of the American capital in no particular order.
Pi Pizza Pi Pizza seems to mostly be available as a takeaway option, but we went to their restaurant twice for several different reasons. It’s at 910 F Street NW, if you’re ever nearby and it’s well worth a visit. The pizza was amazing and they had a gluten free base available too. The staff were great, getting us seated really quickly without a reservation on our first night in town and there was an great choice of beers. I guess it’s a long way to travel for a pizza, but the whole family enjoyed it so, so much that it was easily one of my favourite things about the trip!
We saw the President! Probably. Possibly. One morning, we were sitting in the window seats of our favourite breakfast place when I noticed a motorbike cop pull into the middle of the road. Within seconds he was off the bike and redirecting traffic, which really piqued our interest. Moments later another bike appeared to help out. Then, within seconds outrider after outrider sped down the street, eventually followed by some very chunky black Cadillacs. This was someone important. And then it happened; three huge black Cadillac Escalades with blacked out windows and flags on the front swept by followed by even more cars and even more bikes. When they passed, life returned to normal very quickly and it was only on as we made our way to Dulles airport days later that we were offered an explanation. According to our taxi driver – and who knows better than those fellas? – what we described was very likely to be the president, due to the amount of cars and the type of flags! Nice seeing you, Mr. President!
Crossings. If you read my Top 10 of Toronto you might think I’m slightly obsessed with everything crossing related, but I can assure you, I’m not. However, I did notice something about crossings in Washington! What struck us all is the timer above the crossing, telling you how long you have to get across a road. They’re hilarious in how varied they are. You might have a huge road of four lanes to cross and the timer will give you a random short amount of time to cross like 17 seconds. However, it’ll allow you a sumptuous 50 seconds to cross a street that is about five big strides wide! It made us laugh every day of the trip!
The White House. The first time we visited – around 18 years ago – we felt a little bit underwhelmed by the president’s house. It felt quite small and we had no hope of getting to look round. I suppose we were a little bit naïve, but it was certainly no Buckingham Palace. This time around, we visited on a beautifully hot Spring day and it looked magnificent. The kids were suitably impressed too. Initially, it looked like they’d stopped tourists getting anywhere near but after a few minutes of being there a policeman came over, did rock, paper scissors with a little boy and when the boy won, he moved the barriers to one side. I’m guessing they do it all the time, but it was a lovely moment and it allowed us to get right up to the fence. I could have stared at it for hours!
DC is fit! One of the things that struck me as refreshing about Washington was the amount of people exercising. Runners, walkers, cyclists, exercise junkies seemed to be everywhere. The weather was fantastic when we were there in late April and the amount of people getting out was fantastic. I like to have a look out of the hotel window every morning, just to watch the world go by a bit and gather my thoughts. Every morning, there would be people cycling to work, people out running and others in sportswear, clearly walking to work with their work gear in a bag. Even late on at night you’d still see people out exercising. And whenever we went down to the National Mall there would be people running along it and up past the Capitol Building. As I was on an enforced break from running, it made me a little jealous As I’d have loved to join them. Mostly though, it made me smile.
Tatte Bakery and afternoon coffee. When we first visited Washington 17 or 18 years ago, we discovered Starbucks and spent far too much of our time sat outside various branches in drinking frappuccinos and eating cake in the sun. We vowed not to fall into the same trap this time around and while we definitely cut down on such frivolity, we still indulged! One of our favourite haunts was Tatte Bakery where we went for breakfast a couple of times as well as afternoon coffee. Not only did it do a great selection of cakes, muffins, pastries and snacks, but the coffee was great too. The staff were really friendly and accommodating, which helped when it came to whether we should revisit or not. Sometimes, even though there’s lots to see elsewhere, there’s nothing better to do in a big city than just sit outside sipping coffee and watch the world go by! DC and Tatte was brilliant for that!
Georgetown. Georgetown is a historic district of Washington that has buildings that date back as far as the 17th century. We didn’t find time to visit Georgetown when we first visited Dc some years ago. So we were determined to get there this time. And we were so glad we did. We started out by the Potomac river by the amazing House of Sweden which contains both the Swedish and Icelandic embassies and made our way further into Georgetown from there, crossing the now dried up canal, which I believe usually has water in and sometimes features boat trips. My wife then casually mentioned the fact that Georgetown is the sight of The Exorcist Steps, so we made our way there. After climbing them – and a bit of a rest – we spent the rest of the morning enjoying the sun, wandering the streets and shopping. It was so relaxed and I’d definitely recommend a visit to Georgetown. Oh, and when you climb the Exorcist steps, make sure you take a left in order to pay a visit to Bumblebee and Optimus Prime, two Transformers sculptures installed outside of a local house!
The bus. Bare with me on this one. I’m not normally a fan of buses. However, this one was a little different. The DC Circulator operates on three routes with a bus every ten minutes. So, it’s really helpful in getting across the city and really efficient. The best bit is that it only costs $1. Even better for us was that on our first three rides, we didn’t pay. It wasn’t for the want of trying; once, the machine wasn’t working and on the other two occasions we didn’t have the right change so the driver just let us on for free! Bonus!
Presidents. Or rather, their monuments. Time constraints meant that we didn’t manage to see some of the sights on our first visit, so this time we made sure to tour the monuments dedicated to some of the past presidents. If you’re a history fan, you’re sure to enjoy them. They’re all pretty inspiring and we even made a second visit to the Lincoln Memorial which was probably my favourite just because of the sheer scale. However, I’d recommend making time to see the Roosevelt Memorial which is quite poignant because of the references to the Great Depression and World War II. And while you’re there, try heading for the Martin Luther King memorial, which is nearby and again is awe inspiring.
It’s Washington DC, for crying out loud! In essence, there’s no real need to be too specific about visiting Washington DC. Just about everywhere you look there’s something important or eye-catching. My kids weren’t particularly excited about the prospect of visiting as they didn’t like the thought of hours of sightseeing. And then we went to The White House. I mean, it’s literally a big white house, but the place is completely iconic. Their faces lit up and their excitement was immediately tangible. Now, every time they see The White House, The Capitol Building, the Washington Monument or any of the shed loads of historic places on TV, they can say, ‘I’ve been there’.
A couple of things didn’t make the list, but are worth a mention. The first was going to a really posh restaurant – I’m not really the classy type, so it was quite the treat – and getting talking to our lovely waiter about Premier League football. He was a Tottenham fan, I had a right old laugh about that, but it’s amazing how we can be so different, so far apart and find common ground quite easily. The other thing was the Albert Einstein memorial, which is a huge bronze sculpture dedicated to the great man. His pose – let’s call it ‘relaxed’ – just made me smile and also told me that me and Albert have at least one thing in common too – we both love a nice sit down!
So, there you have it. My take on Washington DC. I’ve tried not to be too ‘touristy’, but that’s difficult when you’re a tourist. It’s just a great city though. Even if you were to stick to the National Mall and just visit the sights in and around there, you’d fill a good few days. But there are loads of ways of getting round, meaning you can visit all manner of sights and places around the city.
As lots of you know, I suffered a bit of a health setback in November of last year when I was admitted to hospital and had to have a pacemaker fitted. It was a shock, but not in terms of feeling unwell. The truth was that I’d been struggling with heart ‘episodes’ since around May last year. I just made a really stupid choice in trying to manage it and hide it from everyone. My distinct lack of medical training allowed me to have faith in the fact that it would probably just go away.
Despite all of this, I’d kept on going out running, striving to build fitness while all along fully aware of the palpitations and dizzy spells I suffering on an every more regular basis. I never felt bad when running though, so I kept going.
On Sunday 15th May last year, I ran the Pontefract 10k in West Yorkshire, finishing in just over 51 minutes. I felt great.
By May 28th I was a complete mess and was forced to reveal a little bit of what was going on to my family when I had my worst episode of the year. The palpitations got so bad that my whole body was shaking. This lasted for around 6 hours and for almost all of this I managed to hide what was happening. I was forced to confess as we were due to go out to a gig and I was worried I may well collapse. Miraculously, I didn’t end up in hospital as, with a bag packed, I suffered a dizzy spell that shook me from the feet up and levelled my heart rate back out. I was exhausted, but fine, so no need for a doctor. It couldn’t and didn’t last though.
In October I collapsed in Manchester Airport as we were heading off for a break. Again, fate intervened as the ambulance was unavailable, so we went on holiday, took things easy and vowed to visit the doctor when home. But my ‘luck’ was about to run out. It was while waiting for an appointment at hospital that I ended up being admitted to a ward anyway, a month later. The rest, as they say, is history.
To cut a long story short, I set myself some goals in hospital. One of them was to get fit and run the Pontefract 10k in May of 2023. Despite several setbacks along the way, I achieved my goal a couple of weekends ago. Here’s how it went.
Having only been able to manage three full weeks of training, I was beyond nervous on the morning of the run. I hadn’t actually ran a full 10k since the previous October and knew that once I got to 5.5 miles (8.85km) I was in unknown territory as far as my heart – and actually more importantly, my legs – were concerned. With a minute to go, standing on the start line, I felt a little bit sick and more tired than I’d hoped for. My previous training run had gone well and I’d felt stronger than I did now. Talk about bad timing! Surely all I had to do was start running and keep going though?
The Pontefract 10k course is affectionately described as ‘undulating’. In truth, it’s tough and hills seem to dominate. So, even though I knew what was coming as I took the first turn out of the park that it starts in, I allowed myself a wry smile as my heart sunk (metaphorically, don’t panic) at the sight of the first long climb. If I’m right, it’s about a kilometre long and really a lot steeper than you’d like as you set off on a 10k race.
Around about 5 or 6 minutes later, as I finally crested said hill, my legs felt wobbly to say the least. However, knowing that there was a stretch of flatter running to come calmed me a bit.
The course feels like it takes you up more than it does down, which as it starts and finished in the same place can’t be true. But as each hill appeared, I began to feel doubts seeping in. I covered the first couple of miles in around 18.5 minutes, so although I was going slower than I’d have liked, I was steady. My goal was to run it in under an hour, but I was more hoping that I’d be close to 55 minutes as this had been what my training had indicated I was capable of.
I ran a focused race. Just telling myself to shorten my stride and keep plodding along for hills or lengthen it for flat sections or downhills bits. When heading downhill I was careful not to get too carried away though as the course has a nasty habit of following a lovely downhill section with a punishing climb. I tried not to look at my watch too often in order to check times and distance, but as the race went on and I got more tired, it proved too much and I was making checks on a far too regular basis, which didn’t help me.
Turning at halfway, I was greeted with the usual big hill, which then takes you left and up another one. During these climbs I started to doubt myself a little bit, but was spurred on somewhat by the fact that some people had began to walk. Despite being encouraged to do so by my family, walking was never an option for me, but although the sight of others doing this lifted my spirits a bit, it did nothing for my legs! I’d also started to feel sick by this point too, but I knew there was a water station a mile or two ahead, so just hoped that I could reach that point incident free.
Underpinning every step I took, both in training and the race itself, was the fact that this was a major goal I’d set while lying in a hospital bed feeling very sorry for myself. In short, I was determined that I’d finish, on my feet, running. And I’d finish in under an hour!
The hills just seemed to keep on coming though and despite the fact that I’ve ran the race twice before, I still couldn’t work out when they’d end. Every time I dragged myself up one, it felt like there was another in the distance and I’d lengthen my stride for the flat section before steeling myself for the energy sapping climb to come!
The water station came and went and I grabbed a bottle, being careful just to sip some in order to avoid being sick. Lots of runners take a swig and discard their bottle pretty quickly, but I decided I’d just keep mine until I saw my family near the end. I’d be able to just keep taking regular sips in order to keep going. Those hills didn’t want to stop though!
Every so often on the route, people had come out of their houses to cheer the runners on and the support was invaluable to me this year. It’s naturally quite encouraging and people say the loveliest things as you run past, although not the most accurate. Whoever called out, “looking good” as I ran past in the last few kilometres clearly needed an eye test! I was also struck by one old man’s generosity of both thought and gesture as we approached the last sections of the race. He’d bought a few crates of bottled water and was using his Sunday morning to help people out. It was a lovely gesture and although I was clinging on to my water station bottle and didn’t need any more, it distracted me for a little while and took my thoughts away from how tired I was.
The race ends on the same stretch that it begins with, meaning the uphill start is reversed. I’ve never been happier to be at the top of a hill! I’d checked my watch and knew that the 6 mile mark (almost 10kms) was approaching, so I lengthened my stride once more and ran faster. I knew that my family would be somewhere on the hill, waiting for me, but as yet I couldn’t see them. Knowing they were there really helped though.
About halfway down the hill I spotted them and I knew they’d be able to see me. It spurred me on that little bit more and I picked up speed once again. The last thing I wanted was to worry them and I knew I wouldn’t look too good, so moving faster was my only hope!
Passing them, I knew that the final bend, leading to the last straight was about 30 seconds away. Time seemed to be moving faster than I would have liked though and the clock was getting uncomfortable close to the hour mark.
Two runners passed me at the very start of the final straight. I told myself out loud to let them go – normally I would have kicked on again and tried to catch them. But now, I was exhausted and my only goal was just to get over the finish line.
I was aware that I was moving fairly quickly though. Somehow I’d found the strength to not quite sprint, but to move a great deal quicker than I’d been doing in the last few miles! At this point in the race people are lining the road and everyone cheers the runners on loudly; but not as loudly as my family. My wife, daughter and son had cut across a field to get to the final stretch and I could hear them shouting encouragement as I got close to the finish. The trouble was, I couldn’t see the finish. Normally, there’s a big arch, but this year just a small sign, so for far longer than was comfortable I was unaware of exactly where I was.
By now my competitive streak had kicked in and I checked over both shoulders, sensing that other runners would be finishing strongly too. To my amazement, it seemed like no one was close, so I turned my head around briefly to check. The nearest runner was at least 20 yards behind me. No one else would pass me now. But then I noticed that up ahead, one competitor was walking. It was a club runner that I’d been close to for the last half of the race, but he’d gotten away from me while I was flagging. I sped up – fractionally – feeling that he was sure to hear me and run, but he didn’t and I was able to make up one more place in the finishing order.
Just when I thought it would never come, the finish line was mere yards away. I could see the clock ticking on. 59.50. My watch was reading a minute less, but that would be my time over the start line, not my gun time. Again, I kicked. I could just dip under the hour mark. Using every last bit of energy, I made it, crossing the line in a time of 59.58!
In amongst the feelings of sheer joy, I must admit that I welled up at the end. Having set this as a goal 6 months previously and nearly not made it, it was a little bit overwhelming. But I wasn’t going to cry in front of hundreds of runners and spectators, so I gritted my teeth, covered my face a bit and took some deep breaths. Job done!
By the time my family located me, I’d picked up my medal, grabbed a bottle of water and was waiting in the queue for a t-shirt. As I stood, my legs were rapidly cramping up though. I knew I hadn’t been able to train enough and was fully aware of what the last 10k had taken out of me. I was so tired that I didn’t have the strength left in my legs to stand still and stretch in order to get rid of the cramp! My wife had to hold onto me, so that I could balance and stretch. Later, when I had to go and take a match for my youth football team things would get worse as I kept getting cramp in my feet, but couldn’t balance in the stretch position needed to alleviate the problem!
So 6 months on from my operation and I feel like I’ve finally achieved something tangible. I certainly feel a great deal more like my old self, even if it’s been a long road to get here. I guess there’s nothing else for it than to keep moving forward. So, where and when is the next race that I can enter?
So, this Easter we took a took a trip across the Atlantic for the first time in around 17 years, visiting Toronto and then Washington DC. Both are cities we’ve been to before, but we had our reasons for going back to both.
We have dear friends in Toronto and having not seen them for such a long time, it felt like too good an opportunity to pass up. Our big travels stopped when we had children, meaning at opposite sides of the ocean there were two sets of parents who had watched the other set of kids growing up on the internet! Suffice to say we were all excited to get there.
With Washington – or DC as us seasoned travellers refer to it, somewhat pompously – we just wanted to show our children the sites. It’s been a longstanding joke in our house that when places like The White House or The Capitol Building appear in films, we’ll point out that we’ve been there, much to our children’s frustration! But there’s a lot to see and we felt it was important for them to witness it all first hand.
I didn’t want to write a typical travelogue type piece as the chances are that most readers would already know much about both cities. If they didn’t, then that’s what Google is for. So, instead I’ve done a bit of a Top 10. Toronto today and Washington to follow.
Here’s my Top 10 of Toronto in no particular order.
My friend Andy is an Aussie, who like 94% of all Australians (accurate at time of being completely made up) has found himself living on an entirely different continent. And yes, to answer your inevitable question, he has been a barman once upon a time, I think. He’s lived outside of Oz for over two decades now and amazingly retains his full on Aussie accent. That is, apart from one phrase – “Oh my Gaaaaaaad” – which is always pronounced in a full on Canadian accent. We never talked of this and I’m not even sure that he’s aware of it, but it made me smile again and again, which is enough for it to make my Top 10!
It seems that 99% of Canadians obey the crossing laws. While in England, what those in North America call jaywalking, is simply a way of life, in Canada it feels like everyone waits for permission to cross the road, like one gigantic primary school outing. My wife is an absolute stickler for the crossing rules, so she was naturally thrilled. Me? Bored senseless, gazing down either end of the road seeing no traffic in my way, yet feeling forced to wait for the signal to cross! I can’t deny though that it is a truly incredible phenomenon to watch!
There is an underground walkway that spans nearly 30km and gives access to loads of shops and restaurants, as well as keeping you out of the snow! We’ve now visited Toronto three times and still never used it, mainly due to forgetfulness and being otherwise occupied with sight seeing or searching out Irish bars to watch Premier League football on! This year, we even had a map of ‘The Path’ and still didn’t use it. However, as we were heading to the airport on our final morning, we stopped at a set of lights and there it was…an access point for The Path, the mythical, yet brilliant underground walkway. Maybe next time, Toronto, maybe next time…
The CN Tower seems a blindingly obvious choice for any Top 10 on Toronto, but I just have to mention it. If you don’t know, it’s a huge tower that once upon a time used to be the tallest structure in the world. In fact, it held that title for over 30 years. It was the first thing I pointed out to my kids as we drove into the city and even a glimpse of it makes me smile. Visitors can go up the tower via a very fast elevator and then sample the delights of two different viewing levels, one of which has a section of glass flooring. Sadly, this was being renovated on our latest visit. You can even walk on the outside of one of the viewing areas on the Edgewalk, 116 storeys above the city. Of course, you’d have to be insane to actually sign up for this! Speaking of our latest visit, this year we managed to go up the tower in really poor weather, when it was pouring with rain, thus cutting down our views quite some. However, between the storms – we watched lightning strike just in front of the tower – we were still able to see for miles across the Toronto area and Lake Ontario. At one point, however, we were literally engulfed by a cloud! It was still fantastic to be back at the tower.
Back to a very personal memory of Toronto, again featuring my friend Andy. This is definitely not one you’d find in your average Top 10, though. Years ago, when we first met his then girlfriend, Kim, it made us smile that sometimes, especially when she was a little irked by him, she would refer to him using his full name. So, it will come as no surprise whatsoever to learn that it made us chuckle when it turned out that she still does this! Even my kids noticed it and it’s been mentioned on a fairly regular basis since we got home.
If you visit Toronto as a tourist then it’s almost inevitable that you’ll take a trip to Niagara Falls. After all, it’s said to be one of the mythical ‘Wonders of The World’. Now if you haven’t been you might just think that it’s ‘just’ a waterfall. Let me tell you different. Niagara Falls is simply remarkable, particularly the Canadian side and the Horseshoe Falls which stands 57m high. The sheer volume and force of the water heading over the edge of the waterfall is quite amazing and it really is a sight to behold. You’d think that a river going over a cliff wouldn’t be all that…but it really, really is. And yes, it’s very touristy, but it’s undeniably worth a few hours of your time. We even went into Niagara itself to play glow-in-the-dark mini golf!
Niagara on The Lake is a beautiful small town, near Niagara Falls, where the Niagara River meets Lake Ontario. It’s worth a visit just because it’s so picturesque, but if that wasn’t enough there’s a year round Christmas shop to tempt you too, as well as a number of pubs and various cafes and shops. Strangely, there are an abundance of hat shops too! If you’re not from America or Canada, Niagara on The Lake is the picture perfect small American/Canadian town that you see in your mind when you imagine what this type of place looks like.
On our last full day in Toronto – Good Friday – we went to spend some time with our friends in their neighbourhood. They live in the Beaches area of Toronto and it’s one of the most laid back places I’ve ever visited. On this particular day the streets were packed with parents and children either going to or coming away from Easter Egg hunts, many adorned with bunny ears. We had a gluten free brunch in The Haven cafe before heading down to the beaches that run alongside Lake Ontario and give this neighbourhood its name. It was a gloriously sunny morning and we took a long walk down the boardwalk all the way along the shore, just chatting, laughing and sharing memories. On a few occasions I slowed down and drfited off the back of the group just to watch them all walking along; my wife, my mates and our kids all together for the first time ever! Having been ill for months before this and genuinely wondering if I’d ever be able to do this sort of thing again, it felt completely wonderful and helped me see how much better I am. Finally, I felt relaxed. I think this was the morning that I knew I was going to be alright and that I could start to live properly with my pacemaker.
The wildlife in and around Toronto has always fascinated myself and my wife. On one occasion years ago, my mate Andy toured us around their neighbourhood just so that we could see a racoon. Racoons are the scourge of Toronto bins and residents aren’t too fond of them, but my wife was more interested in how cute they are. Toronto residents have christened them ‘trash pandas’ which I can only think would make them even more appealing to her. Andy also performed a U-turn in the car on another day so that we could go back down the road as he’d spotted a groundhog! On our recent trip, we spotted deer at the side of the highway coming back from Niagara and there seemed to be an abundance of eagles hovering around trees by the lake. However, our wildlife highlight happened on the way to the falls when in Niagara itself we saw a skunk on the pavement! Bizarrely, some locals were feeding it, despite the threat of a spray from said animal leaving them stinking like Satan’s armpits for days.
On the afternoon of Good Friday we visited the Distillery district of the city. This is an area of Victorian industrial buildings that has been revamped and renovated by developers, making a fabulous place to spend some time. It’s just not like a museum as while the buildings retain their industrial look, the district is made up of shops, restaurants, galleries and cafes. It was lovely and sunny when we went and such a striking place to see. The Distillery District gave us a brilliantly relaxed afternoon of shopping and wandering pretty aimlessly. Exactly what we needed after a hectic few days since arriving in Toronto. However, our relaxation was cut short when we got a text from our old Uni friend. Judith, telling us that she was in a brewery bar on the other side of the city if we wanted to come and meet. And so, we were on the march again, as we were quite a way out of town.! Thankfully our race across Toronto wasn’t in vain and we were in time to meet up and spend a lovely couple of hours chatting about our lives in Toronto and the UK before heading back to our hotel to pack for the next leg of our trip.
I’d thoroughly recommend Toronto. It’s a hugely welcoming city and there’s always something to do. I certainly didn’t struggle to put a Top 10 together; in fact I could have written a lot more. The best thing about the place though, is that it’s generally very friendly and welcoming. Even when we went searching out places in unfamiliar districts we felt safe, which is essential if you’re visiting with kids.
I hope you enjoyed my Top 10. It’s possibly a little bit different in places, but if you were after a guide, then Google can probably help! Hopefully though, there’s enough here to whet your appetite for a visit!
It’s been a busy April with an amazing transatlantic trip, time at home to rest afterwards, the start of my first term back at work with an almost full teaching timetable and some glorious grassroots football. There’s been a lot to leave me exhausted, but a lot to make me smile as well.
So here’s the latest edition of this occasional series.
A brilliant holiday. I have a blog ready to go about part 1 of this trip, so I won’t go into too much detail. It couldn’t be ignored though. The first leg of our trip took us back to Toronto, a city we’d last visited about 17 years ago, pre-children (otherwise known as our fun years!). The city brought lots of smiles simply by being Toronto, as it’s one of our favourites. However, what made me smile most – while at the same time having a transformative effect on my recovery from health issues – was seeing dear friends again. We have friends in Toronto who I first met over 20 years ago, while I was in my first teaching post. My mate Andy is an Aussie who was travelling at the time and spending some time in the UK. Somehow, he found his way to a small village somewhere in the hinterland between Leeds and Castleford in West Yorkshire. We connected instantly and have been laughing ever since. His girlfriend. now wife Kim, is a Torontonian and thus they settled there. She is also a fantastic person and again, someone who loves a laugh. Suffice to say, the two couples have always got on well. It was just an absolute blessing to spend time with them again (and with their fantastic children) and it felt like we’d never been apart. My health issues felt like they lifted in Toronto and kept moving away in Washington DC (our second port of call) and I genuinely feel much more optimistic about things now. Washington DC was everything you’d expect. Again, we’d been before, but it was great to be back. At times DC is like walking through a film set because you’ve seen so much of it before on screen. Suffice to say, the sheer amount of iconic buildings and monuments brought a great big grin to my face!
I Am The Champion! We flew Aer Lingus to and from our destinations. I’d never flown with them before, but I’d thoroughly recommend them having now done so. However, what I achieved on the flights was the thing that made me smile. In amongst the selection of films and TV shows to watch or even music to listen to, I stumbled upon the games. At first, I stuck to playing video pool which I wasn’t very good at. But then I found the Trivia game which was to all intents and purposes a general knowledge quiz. Now, I class myself as someone who knows a lot of ‘stuff’. Pub quiz knowledge, you might say. And to cut a long story short, by the end of my flight home I was not only first, but also second on the leaderboard, thus enabling me to crown myself as Aer Lingus Trivia World Champion! If anyone at the airline reads this and wants to send me my trophy, I’d be most grateful!
Spring! To be honest, it’s not got a great deal warmer here in the UK, but Spring has definitely sprung. The usual things about this made me smile: the blossom on the trees, the definite sense that there’s less rain about and the blooming of flowers like daffodils and crocuses in our garden. But the thing that made me smile the most was the sight of my back lawn, freshly cut after 3 legs of cutting it over three days, due to the fact that it had suddenly grown to about a foot long in lots of places! When our particular jungle is tamed, it makes a real difference!
I’m running again! I’ll keep this short as I could do without cursing myself and this ending up as another false start, but I’m running again. I feel much stronger and fitter and for the past two weeks have been out running twice a week. I’m building up to one of my big recovery goals, which I think will be very difficult, so wish me luck! Getting out running – especially an early morning one last Saturday – has got me smiling again.
5. Giraffes! My daily visit to the BBC website is always a good source for something heartwarming and a few days ago I read a story about Giraffes on Tour, a charity associated with the Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital. They were filling every seat with a toy giraffe on a routine refueling flight in order to raise money for the hospital. So, children had temporarily donated their toy giraffe to go on the flight, presumably in return for a cash donation, and then on their return they got not just their toy back, but a certificate too. It’s a lovely story and another brilliant example of the kind of charity work that most of have no idea goes on. And if that doesn’t make you smile, have a look at the photos!
It’s been a tough start to the year as a grassroots football coach. Illness meant that for the final couple of months of 2022 I wasn’t able to coach my team and while I returned to games in January, I couldn’t take a training session until March of 2023.
Despite the hardship, there was no point in grumbling. In terms of my health, anything that I was able to do was simply a bonus. Even organising a training session for someone else to take occupied my mind for a bit, meaning a change in my boring 4 month long routine of a daily walk and then little else.
Then, when I was able to return full time to actual games, it just felt amazing to be involved again. A few of the boys in the squad hadn’t trained while I was in recovery as they weren’t keen on the coaches that replaced me, so it was great to see them back when I returned. And I can honestly say that when our goalkeeper told me, “It’s good to see you”, it was one of the happiest moments of my whole recovery.
We’re a team of varied ability with a smattering of really capable young footballers joined by a group with less ability but lots of enthusiasm. We play in Division 6 of 7, which is an indicator of the ability, but at the start of January we were rock bottom of our league with no wins and no points. In my first game back on 15th January we lost 10-0 and things looked pretty bleak. However, a 4-0 defeat in our next game, against a very good side near the top of the league, was heartening. We were organised, determined and it was clear that the message was getting through. We were finally being competitive in games.
On 5th February this year we played the team who were at the top of our league. I’ll be honest, we’ve never given them a decent game in the three years that we’ve been playing against them, so I didn’t have a great deal of hope. Amazingly though, everything clicked and despite the fact that we were clinging on towards the end of the game, we won 3-2! It was a memorable day and as I was still weak from my operation, it took everything out of me. But, I was smiling and so were my team.
In our next game we reverted to type somewhat and got thumped again, but not long after we picked up another point in a home draw. We’d led three times in the game, so the signs were very good. We lost the next three games, but rarely looked anything but competitive. Confidence was growing…
And then, after a few weather induced postponements came our latest two games. The first one on 16th April followed by last night (at the time of writing), Thursday 20th April. We won both games, scoring 6 goals, conceding 3 and dominating both games for long periods of time. In the main, only silly decisions and mistakes put us under any pressure and had we taken more of the numerous chances we created then we would have given someone a real thumping.
In the first of those games we got in at half time a goal down, but somehow full of confidence that we could win. We looked good and seemed the fitter of the two teams. If we applied some pressure, the three points were there for the taking. I pointed out that only one team looked like they wanted the win and it was us. And win we did, scoring three goals without reply in that second 35 minutes.
Last night was different. An away game against a team that had beaten us a few weeks ago, a local rival and the team just above us in the league. But we went 2-0 up quite early and were by far the better team. At half time we told the lads that we could only beat ourselves; the game was there for the taking. Concentrate, no silly decisions, no need to chase the win as we were 2-0 up. We conceded a goal after about a minute of the second half!
After that though we settled really well and extended our lead midway through the half to almost break the spirits of our opposition. Almost. However, in the last 10 minutes their coaches, their players and even their parents began pressuring the referee for fouls left, right and centre. We kept going forward and really should have added a few more goals, but with about 3 minutes left one of our defenders made a silly challenge and the ref awarded a penalty, which they scored.
My boys fought like lions after that. We slowed everything down, threw ourselves into challenges and battled to keep control of the ball. It felt like about an hour before the ref blew the final whistle and it was brilliant to watch the reaction of our squad as substitutes ran on to the field to celebrate with their squad mates. You’d have thought we’d won a cup final! But what a joy to see after the last few months.
My team have suffered this year. Opponents – and sadly, some coaches – have laughed at them in defeat. Lots of things have gone wrong. My heart surgery seemed to shock them, not least my son who plays for the team and came home crying after a game in December when I couldn’t attend and they got beat in the last seconds of the game. And as a result of my surgery, they’ve had to make do, training with a younger age group for months. Rarely have their heads dropped and they’ve shown up in numbers week after week. Now, as we ride the wave of optimism that any victory brings, let alone 2 in 5 days, it feels like we’re a hell of a team and I couldn’t be more proud.
Speaking to my wife in hospital in November, I told her that I didn’t think I’d be able to carry on coaching. It made me feel very sad, but it made sense while my body, and to some extent my mind, felt so broken. Now, there might just be a little bit of light at the end of the tunnel and there’s definitely not a lot to grumble about!
Golf is one of those sports and subjects that tends to polarise opinion, isn’t it? Many will quote the famous Mark Twain line about it being “a good walk spoiled”, but for every one of those there’s a fan who is simply addicted to the game. Wherever your opinion lies on golf though, I think you’ll enjoy the film.
The Phantom of the Open is a 2021 comedy drama starring Sir Mark Rylance. It tells the true life tale of Maurice Flitcroft, a crane driver from Cumbria whose attempts to enter the British Open back in 1976, caused much controversy amongst the golfing fraternity.
Watching the film I came to the opinion that Flitcroft was very much a modern day working class hero. Here was a man who despite having never picked up a club in his life, decided to dream big. Partly down to naivety and partly down to his desire to live a full life and follow his dreams, Flitcroft applied for the tournament, bought some knock off clubs and gear and began to practice.
But this film is not all about the golf. Maurice is simply a lovely man and a born optimist. He encourages his wife and sons to dream big too and helps them out in any way he can. What ensues is a touching tale of working class family life and love that teaches us that even when the chips are down, to keep on dreaming and keep on smiling. In many ways, the golf and Maurice’s pursuit of some kind of Open glory is a bit of a sideshow.
That said, watching Maurice innocently take on the establishment and stuffed shirts that seem to dominate golf even to this day is an absolute riot! Ticking the ‘Professional’ box on his entry form is just the start of the fun. When he actually takes to the course – having been turned away from his local course by the snobs that govern it – the hilarity hits like a whacking drive down the fairway, all the way to the green. Needless to say it doesn’t end well, but this only leads to Maurice continuing to stick it to ‘the man’ by attempting to play the tournament year upon year!
Mark Rylance is just superb as Flitcroft. I must admit, when I saw that he was doing the film, I was surprised to say the least. Maybe I was guilty of the same snobbery that the film tackles, but Rylance’s name screamed Shakespeare, rather than comedy tales of wayward amateur golfers. It turns out that I needn’t have worried as the subtlety of his portrayal of Watkins is just wonderful. Rylance nails it, portraying Maurice as honest, naïve and vulnerable, while also conveying his endless kindness and love for his family. Maurice is a character that you might just find yourself falling for, such is Rylance’s performance.
The rest of the cast are brilliant too. Sally Hawkins (The Shape of Water, Paddington) is fantastic as Flitcroft’s wife, encouraging his dreams however absurd they might seem. Elsewhere, Mark Lewis Jones plays Cliff, Watkins’s every so slightly dodgy but well meaning pal and Rhys Ifans is hilarious as Maurice’s nemesis, the interfering Keith Mackenzie, the chairman of the almost sacred St. Anrdews gold course.
Sitting down to watch I was just expecting a bit of a comedy. A few laughs along the way and probably a bit of hilarity as our working class hero takes on the establishment. In reality what I got was much, much more. This was a truly engaging study of a great British eccentric, as well as a enduring love story. The Watkins family live for each other and love and affection is never in short supply, making for a really touching piece of film. And there’s drama too, when things inevitably go wrong with Maurice’s dream.
As a true story, the film sends out a message. It’s not just a chance to watch this funny little man do things he’s not supposed to. The film teaches us that there’s nothing wrong in following your dreams and that it doesn’t matter what others might say or even how unattainable those dreams might seem; if you want it, then the only thing that’s stopping you from at least giving it a go, is you.
The Phantom of The Open is very funny and at times brilliantly dramatic. It’s much more than just a film about golf. A true underdog story this film will take you on a rocky ride from start to finish and you’ll be rooting for Maurice all the way. And if by the end, like me, you find that there’s something in your eye, then don’t be surprised.
It’s been a while since I wrote one of these posts. The delay hasn’t been because I’ve not been smiling, but let’s just say that the last few months have been complicated! Regular readers will know why and at times there’s not been a great deal to smile about, try as I might.
I write these posts mainly to remind myself that life is pretty good at least most of the time. Of course things will test us and our ability to raise a smile and it’s easy to descend into a bit if a fug about it all. Work, kids, obsessions with sports teams, relationships, taxes, traffic…they’ll all test your patience. Every so often though, when I have time to reflect I’m able to realise that there’s plenty to smile about. And every time I write one of these, people let me know that it’s nice to be reminded of the simple things that let us know that it’s not all doom and gloom!
So here we go…what’s been making me smile lately?
I’m running again. Before the last few weeks I hadn’t been out running since the middle of October. I’d missed it desperately. However, a combination of knowing that I needed to be patient with my body (how frustrating!) and the fact that going running genuinely terrified me, had kept me in my slippers rather than my running trainers. Not even getting a fancy new pair of runners for Christmas could tempt me back. While I was poorly I made sure that I went out for a walk most days. I built this up slowly and by mid January was out every day for around an hour. It would wipe me out for the next few hours of the day, but it felt wonderful. As time went on I would go for a walk/run combination on a Saturday morning, but that would mean running probably less than a mile all told. It didn’t really feel like it counted. Then, on Valentine’s Day, with the weather looking wonderful I went out for what was supposed to be a tentative run. I wouldn’t be going far – a couple of miles at most. I even took my son out as a bit of mini support. We ended up doing a 5k in just over 32 minutes and I was beyond thrilled. And beyond exhausted! Since then I’ve done three more runs, gradually moving on in distance each time. My latest was last Wednesday when I managed to run 3.75 miles (just over 6km) in 32 minutes. I clocked my 5k time as 27.49, which I’d normally be disappointed with. But, for the last few months things have been far from normal. Being able to run again and feeling even a little bit of confidence doing it has felt absolutely wonderful.
An unusual location for a jingle. Part of my new running route takes me through a business park. Twice now I’ve found myself grinning from ear to ear as a pie truck has arrived at the park and sounded an ice cream van type jingle to let office workers know it’s ‘pie time’! For those of you who remember the show, it plays the Benny Hill theme tune, which makes me wonder if the boss runs out with all their workers following them in some kind of slapdash column to get their savoury treats!
A snow day! I’ve only been back at work for a few weeks and on a very partial timetable at that. However, when school was closed because of snow at the back end of last week, I couldn’t hide how thrilled I was at getting a free day off! It was a Friday too, meaning a 3 day weekend…unbeatable!
Care Home Movie Posters. Now not only is this a great name for a band, it made for an excellent story too. This was something I read about on the BBC website; the story of how residents at a care home in Bristol had been recreating posters of some of their favourite films. You can read about it – and view some of the images – on the link below, but basically, if you’re not smiling at the octogenarian Godfather or Jean, 92 as Maria Von Trapp from The Sound of Music, then you’re taking life far too seriously!
I won’t spoil the story for you by putting the images up, but in looking for further information on the story I did find that they’re not the only care home to have had this idea. Below is a picture from another care home that did the same thing, but with different films. Again, if this version of Reservoir Dogs isn’t making you grin, then I genuinely feel for you!
5. Kids being kids. The final thing that has made me smile lately – that I’m writing about anyway; I’ve smiled more than 5 times lately – came on our snow day. In the afternoon I went for a walk in the snow with my wife and daughter and it made me smile a lot. Firstly, our town looked amazing blanketed in white, as did our view of Leeds. Secondly, watching my daughter attempting to navigate snow, ice and mud in trainers and a pale blue pair of joggers made me laugh a lot. Eventually, she tucked her joggers into her bright blue novelty socks, worn for warmth, not to be seen and slithered her way through the terrain like that. Unmissable.
Towards the end of our walk though, we cut across the bottom of a hill that runs around the edge of the estate where we live. Above us, on various positions around the hill were dozens of children and sometimes parents, sledging and throwing snowballs. It felt like a bit of a throwback to my own childhood with not a mobile phone in sight and instead, just kids being kids and enjoying throwing themselves around in the snow. We even came across my son, messing around with friends that he’s known in primary school, but had since lost touch with a little bit when they went their separate ways at high school. It seemed the snow was uniting us all and not just by imprisoning us in cars stuck in traffic jams for once. Even later on that afternoon, thinking about it made me smile.
Just me, smiling!
I hope you enjoyed reading and that maybe my experiences made you smile a bit too. Whatever you’re doing over the next week or so, make sure that you try to find a moment to allow yourself a smile.
The idea for this blog came from a tweet that I liked a few weeks ago. It popped up on my timeline just because someone I follow had liked it and I usually scroll straight past most of these ones. However, there was a picture of a man wrapped up, wearing a hat, out in the woods by the looks of things and it made me think of myself doing similar, day after day for these last few months.
The tweet read, ‘Healing is not as simple as ‘rest’. It’s exercising, rehab, falling down, fearing and going deep into the pain and fighting your way back.’
In a strange way, the tweet made my day. Since having my pacemaker fitted and spending months off work, I’ve gone through all manner of stuff, but have lost count of how many times I’ve felt the need to brush it off and tell anyone who’s asked that I’m ‘slowly getting there’.
Over 3 months on from my operation and I thought I’d try to explain my own personal experience of recovery. I haven’t fully recovered and I think feeling that way is actually a long way off, but I think I’ve managed to get myself into a position where I feel a great deal stronger, fitter and more confident about my heart. So, before I start to forget the things I’ve been through, I thought I’d get some of it down.
I didn’t think I’d done a lot of resting, until my family told me otherwise. I was talking about the fact that I thought I hadn’t really got many naps in during my time at home and it brought about a few smiles from those around me. Apparently, the truth is more that I was napping pretty much every day for the first three weeks of being out of hospital. And while in hospital I just felt like I lurched from nap to nap, even pretending to be asleep on a regular basis so that the bloke opposite wouldn’t talk to me!
So in fact, I’ve been so exhausted during my recovery that I can’t even remember how it’s been a lot of the time. The first few weeks are a blur. I know that they featured a lot of pyjama action, a lot of irritability on my part and, so I’m told, a lot of napping. I’m told that there were times where I’d just fall asleep mid conversation, which sounds a lot of fun. I also remember feeling very frightened by it all, worried that one wrong move would pull the pacemaker wires out of place meaning that I’d have to go back into hospital.
When my first sick note ran out – after a week – I had a telephone appointment with my doctor. This made me realise how poorly I was. We spoke for a good while and I felt like I was having to fend him off at times, as he alluded to me going back to hospital. Then, when he settled for just issuing another sick note, he instantly doubled the time that I’d asked for. This was good, in that it settled me down a bit while also making me think that I could find lots of things to do with all of that time. It became bad pretty quickly when I realised that I wasn’t strong enough to even sit and read for over long, before I was nodding off! It quickly felt like it would be a very long month.
There have been quite a few unusual times since then. While recovering, I seemed to develop a bit of a stutter and at times simply couldn’t get the words out. Furthermore, I’d find myself talking about something one minute, then unable to remember a word or where the conversation was going next. And people would tell me about things I’d said and done, but I literally couldn’t remember a single bit of it. And – as per the quote that inspired this – there’s also been a bit of falling down. It’s amazing how many times I’ve taken a tumble when just trying to tie my laces, but that left hand side of mine just wouldn’t work for a good few weeks!
The healing or recovery process has been one of the most frustrating times of my life. I joke about tying my laces, but there were plenty of times in the first couple of weeks where someone had to tie them for me. My wife had to help me get dressed, as well as undressed, including doing things like zipping up my coat and putting a hat on my head if we went for a walk! I hated it, but it’s definitely the kind of thing that keeps you grounded, in terms of how you think your recovery’s going! I found that lack of independence incredibly frustrating and it was something that I struggled to deal with as normally, if something needs done, I just do it myself. Then suddenly you’re in a place where you’re not allowed to even get a glass of water and someone’s started doing your jobs around the house. Awful!
A combination of beta blockers and lack of sleep (I think brought on by taking beta blockers) made me feel like I wasn’t recovering at all. Every day, I’d just feel like I’d taken another hit and was back to square one, which was kind of demoralising. I’d be out on a walk, feeling like I was definitely getting stronger, watching my heart beat not quite hit what it had the day before at the top of a hill and being able to walk just a little bit further and yet I still couldn’t sleep, still couldn’t remember things, still couldn’t hold a conversation without telling someone to forget it because I couldn’t remember what I was going to say!
I struggled to sleep for well over a month. It’s still hit and miss now, but when it was night after night after night, it felt like it might never go back to normal and that being awake until 3am might well be how it was now. As well as leaving me exhausted, it also had me worried that I wouldn’t be able to hold down a job. Because of this, for a good while it felt like my life was about to encounter an even bigger change and it was a fear that didn’t sit well at all with me.
By far the most difficult part of the whole healing process has been the mental side of things. I’ve always felt that I was mentally very strong, but for the last few months I’ve been filled with a kind of fear and doubt that I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before. I suppose it’s kind of a given that I feared I might die, particularly in the early stages when I didn’t fully understand what was going on and then again when I stopped taking beta blockers. I felt that they were absolutely crucial to keeping me safe and so although I was pleased to come off them, as I was assured that they were adding a lot to my fatigue, I was nervous about what could happen when they were taken away.
It’s been difficult adjusting mentally to not being at work. Alongside that though, has been a bit of fear about going back there too. My final episode with palpitations and extreme dizziness happened in my classroom and I’ve not set foot in there since. The prospect of doing so again fills me with trepidation, even though thinking logically, I know it’s not the classroom’s fault. Nor is it work’s fault. But both things terrify me. I went back for an attendance meeting recently and to discuss my phased return to work and despite having worked there for 8 years I was physically shaking when I entered the building. It took me more than an hour to feel anywhere near right again and it was only when I ventured down to my old department that I settled more.
I’ve suffered with guilt the whole way through my recovery. Having covered up what was wrong for over 6 months, I feel awful about what I put my family through. My wife and kids watched me pass out in the airport before we went on holiday, as the palpitations hit and that makes me feel horrible about myself. My daughter has watched me like a hawk ever since and it’s been a balancing act dealing with the guilt as well as stopping myself becoming irritable as she’s asked again and again if I’m alright.
But the guilt hasn’t stopped with my immediate family. I know that my mam and dad have worried too, as well as my sister. Come to think of it, I’ve probably had my most in depth conversations ever with my dad across the time of my recovery as he’s opened up a bit and made it clear that he was worried about me. Believe me, us northern men aren’t always so forthcoming when it comes to our feelings, particularly when we’re of my dad’s vintage!
I’ve struggled with similar feelings where friends are concerned. Nobody knew a thing and I’m not sure what people must think of me for not at least confiding in one of them! Friends from work have had to cover my classes, set my work and even learn to adjust to life without the kind of ridiculously inane emails that I send on a daily basis. I really can’t thank them enough. Knowing that my other kids – my classes – are in their safe hands has eased that particular side of my guilt, but it’s felt like a real struggle. I know people would tell me to not feel guilty, but it’s been hard to avoid.
In all, like the tweet said, recovering has not been as simple as just resting. In truth, it’s been the most difficult time of my life and I’ve had to adjust from being someone who genuinely felt a bit invincible to being someone who has had to face up to just how vulnerable he actually is. It’s not a process I’ve liked and not one I really want to accept, which means that while I head back to work very soon, I’ll have to continue to work hard at my fitness and any mental blocks that might just be lingering.
For now though, returning to work will bring a sense of normality, but definitely not an end to my recovery or any sense of being healed. If you see me at work and ask how I am, I’ll more than likely say ‘good’ or ‘better’. What I mean to say but can’t, is that I feel sh*t scared, utterly terrified, panic stricken at the thought of doing any of this again, as well as riddled with guilt because of what I feel like I’ve put family and friends through. But, to paraphrase the tweet that inspired this, I’ll continue exercising, falling down, fearing, going deep into pain and fighting my way back.
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