November is Men’s Mental Health Month — a time that always used to pass me by but that's changed in the last few years. As I’ve got older, life has started to feel heavier in ways I didn’t expect. It’s not one big thing — more a build-up of small pressures. Work, travel, relationships, responsibilities, getting older — all the things you want, but that come with a weight of their own. The constant push to keep performing, stay productive, look like you’ve got it all figured out. That comes partly with the job I have, but also comes with life in todays world. The constant pressure, and expectations... For years (which I only look back on now), I did what most of us do — I got on with…
If you’d told the teenage version of me — the boy who deliberately “forgot” his PE kit whenever cross country was on the timetable, or who miraculously found something better to do when running was involved — that I’d one day become a runner, I’d have laughed at you. Running was never for me. It felt like punishment, not sport. Something reserved for “real athletes,” not the kid who’d do anything to avoid it. Fast forward a few decades. At the start of 2024, aged 44, I found myself starting to run. I had been on a work trip the day after the London marathon. One of the guests on the trip had just done it and said it was ok. A colleague then kept saying that anyone could do…
Between September and December 2024, I lived and worked in Los Angeles. Not just passing through. I properly lived there. Rent, routine, remote job, morning coffee order memorised. I went for work. I loved the lifestyle. I travelled across the U.S., fell in love with a baseball team, got stuck in traffic more times than I can count, and experienced my first earthquake. But I also lived out something even bigger — the strange, funny, surreal experience of being British in America during a pivotal moment in its cultural and political life. And somewhere in the middle of it all, LA became something that felt like home. Starting Out in Santa Monica I landed in LA with no idea what to expect. I had travelled to the city before on…
I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of tracking performance. Whether it’s miles covered, relaxing time, or hours slept, numbers have a way of grounding you in reality. The Oura Ring takes that fascination and brings it into everyday life in a way that feels both subtle and powerful. It’s not just another gadget that buzzes on your wrist—it’s a quiet reminder that health isn’t about isolated moments, it’s about patterns. So here's my Oura Ring review. I’ve been wearing the Oura Ring Gen 3 for a while now, and what I like most is how it builds a bigger picture. It doesn’t nag, it doesn’t demand constant attention, but it shows you trends you’d never pick up on otherwise. The heart rate dips during the night, the way your…
When you work in sales or client-facing roles, drinking isn’t just social—it’s part of the job. Dinners, events, late trains home, going to the hotel bar after dinner. A glass of wine here, a pint there. Nothing dramatic. Nothing reckless. But if you’re out two or three nights a week, the units start adding up before you even realise. That was the rhythm I found myself in. And while I was never the guy stumbling out of a bar or chasing the last round (ok occasionally I was - but it certainly wasn't a habit), I started noticing a different kind of hangover—one that crept in slowly. Less energy. Less sharpness. Just… less me. It wasn't something that I felt was bad but I knew with an increased effort in…
