The short bio:
One day I decided to change one thing: everything. Chair of Governors | Teacher | Podcaster | Runner | Ironman | Husband | and most importantly, Dad
The slightly longer one:
This site is the space where several of my professional and personal interests collide, fuse, and generally interact with each other. Through it I explore the connections between running, writing, and teaching; but at its heart this is a blog about movement, progress and happiness.
My belief is simple: minds and bodies are best served when they move.
Stasis can, literally and metaphorically, cripple heart, mind, and body. I know this only too well. For a long period of my life I felt stuck in a pattern of behaviour that, at best, didn’t serve me well, and, at worst, was destructive. One day I decided to change everything, and in doing so I started to slowly move towards a better version of myself. What interests me most is the way in which movement is central to change, improvement, progress, and growth. Stories about renewal, narratives of metamorphosis, physical challenges that test our human limits, lessons that expand horizons: this is the evidence of a life well-lived and such tales form the connections between the contents of this blog. My hope is that it captures some of the ways in which I embrace the challenge of being a chair of governors, a teacher, podcaster, runner, ironman, husband, and most importantly, a dad. It’s a record of what I’m continuing to learn on my journey towards being happier.
Above all, I’m curious about how some people, despite overwhelming odds, are able to get the best out of themselves. I believe that this is the route to a happy and fulfilled life, or rather, this is the way to fully experience happiness and fulfilment. We are happiest when we articulate and bring into the light our potential in the present moment.
I’m fascinated by the audacity of those who, often quietly and modestly, prove that our perceived limits are often simply the result of convenient stories that we have told ourselves; and that exceeding our limits requires not superhuman powers, but rather effort, application and persistence over time. These people are my tutors. Like them, I too want to get to the end of my days in a state of utter exhaustion knowing that I have nothing left to give away. I want to wear out, not rust.
Perhaps the Greek poet Pindar expressed it best:
O my soul, do not aspire to immortal life, but exhaust the limits of the possible.