A month today I start the biggest running challenge of my life. It's not what I thought it would be. I won't have a bunch of friends with me. And I won't be running along the canal. Or having a party to celebrate my 60th at the end. But I'm doing it anyway. There's no point in putting it off. Because this is my life now.
If you've read any of my previous posts, you'll probably know that one of the biggest things in my life this last few months has been training for a 4-day challenge covering 70 miles of the Grand Union Canal. The plan had been for my cousin Gill, my friend Linda and I to drive up to somewhere around Northampton on Wednesday 20th May. I would run the canal in the morning - 10 miles on two days and 14 miles the other 2. In the afternoon we would all walk 5-6 miles. On the last day, I was going to run with my friends Ange and Roy - and maybe others. Meet more friends at a pub for lunch. And then everyone would walk the final 5 miles along the canal to Ealing. Where I would have a party. It's very clear that the UK is not going to be open for business by then.
I could have put the whole thing off. But my 60th birthday will happen on the 24th of May, regardless of whether the country is in lockdown. I will still live these weeks, whether I live them largely indoors or not. Whether I'm sitting at home eating Linda McCartney sausages (I so wish I hadn't bought 3 packets) or going down the Drayton for dinner with Charmion. Whether I'm at that Killers gig in Stratford or sat on my balcony listening to them through my earphones. I can't put my life on hold.
"When this is over" and "when life gets back to normal" are two phrases I hear and see a lot. The thing is, it could be a long time before "this is over" - a vaccine is more than a year away. And even if we have one and even if the lockdown rules change, many of our lives won't "get back to normal". Not for a long time. If ever.
Back in March, one of my clients said to me "We can learn a lot about ourselves and our relationships with others through this. But only if we're up for it." That really struck a chord with me. It sounds a bit glib to say that we should see it as an opportunity. Because that's the last thing it feels to those who have lost businesses or loved ones or who feel trapped in their homes. But I look back to the months following my redundancy from Diageo. When I was "waiting for this [being unemployed] to be over". Waiting for life to "get back to normal". It never did. Or not what I thought of as normal back then.
I left at the end of November. Not a great time to go job-hunting. I spent those first few weeks killing time - until January, when I believed the job market would pick up again. January came and went. I still didn't have a job. So I continued killing time while I waited for "an opportunity" in marketing to come along. I applied for jobs, went for interviews. Sometimes I felt excited. Other times depressed. All the time, stressed. Most of the jobs I went for freaked the hell out of me. I was fearful of the future. This situation continued until late March. I was treading water. For almost four months of my life.
In the December, 2 weeks after I'd left, Denis (a friend of a friend) had asked me to do some writing for a website he was setting up. I was paid for it. I loved doing it. But I didn't enjoy it properly. I was too busy waiting. And stressing about what would happen next. Then Denis offered to pay me a retainer for 6 months. I dithered. What if I didn't get a proper job in the next few weeks? At least I'd be able to pay the mortgage. Then one night, I was travelling back to Ealing with a friend, and as we drew into Northfields station, she said "Do you want to be doing marketing for the next 25 years?" "God no!" I replied. Then why are you looking for a marketing job?" "Because I don't have the experience to do anything else."
Over the next few days, it dawned on me that the aspect of marketing I liked was writing. I accepted Denis's offer. I contacted everyone I knew at Diageo, telling them "I've become a freelance copywriter". That was in March. For four months, I'd already been doing the job I loved. But I was waiting for "this to be over", for life to "get back to normal" Just like many of us are now. This year, I will have been a freelance copywriter for 20 years. And I've loved every minute..
I don't want to kill time this time. That's why I've continued training for my challenge. I will run it round the streets and parks of Ealing. On my own. With some kind of online party at the end, I expect. I can't put my life off. This is my life now. And who knows what will come out of it this time!