What on earth am I...

‘What on earth am I doing here? What have I done?’ I thought to myself, or may even have said out loud, given that there was just the wildlife for company. 

I was sitting astride an off-road motorbike, a machine which frankly terrified me, half way up amountain in the Pyrenees. The challenge I’d undertaken was to ride for four days over

the Pyrenees across several hundred miles of steep, rocky, wet, muddy, rutted and treacherous tracks.

By anyone’s standard, this was a serious trip, and one for experienced and competent off-road bikers. The trouble was I was an ambitious beginner. In fact I’d never really ridden a motorbike until nine months previously.

To compound my sense of being out of my depth, I’d discovered that my travel companions on the trip were all semi-professional bikers, some of whom had competed against off-road heroes, like the three-time world champion David Knight OBE.

When signing up for this extraordinary trip I had been blissfully unaware of the calibre of biker I was going to be riding with, or indeed the gruelling nature of the terrain – fortunate really, because had I known the full facts I might never have signed up for the trip, which would have meant missing out on the greatest life lesson I’ve ever learned.

What had partly contributed to my decision to undertake this challenge in the first place was falling for Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman in their TV series Long Way Round

It seemed like such a wonderful, romantic idea to set off on a bike into the wide unknown.

But my main motivation for going on this insanely demanding trip, was the heart-wrenching memories of the very poorly children I’d seen in Great Ormond Street Hospital when my daughter was poorly and had an operation there some years earlier. The experience had left me determined to raise as much money as I could, to help. Learning to ride a motorbike off-road and get the trip sponsored seemed the perfect answer. 

So there I was on day one of the trip, so out of my depth that it was laughable, yet having an epiphany of sorts. I’m no stranger to being uncomfortable. But the difference is that in a boardroom one doesn’t face the threat of seriously injuring oneself by falling off the side of a mountain, through performing an ill-conceived motorbike manoeuvre.

Alone on that mountain, I realised that the only way I was going to be able to move forward was by digging deep. I asked myself, ‘What is this trip really all about?’ I was discovering that this was just as much a journey on the inside, my inner journey, as it was a

journey on the outside. I am quite scared of riding motorbikes, though I love everything

about them; the engineering, the noise, the smell, the sheer adrenaline rush and of course the bikers themselves. 

The only real piece of sanity in my justification for being there was that I was doing the trip to raise money to help improve the quality of children’s lives.

As it was, I was able to complete only one day of the four-day trip as the challenge really was way, way beyond my abilities. It was the realisation that my lack of experience could put me, and potentially others, in serious danger of injury that made me call it a day. 

It was a decision I’m proud of, for during that day I had pushed myself way beyond what I had believed was possible for me to achieve, but I’d also had the good sense to stop the moment I felt that the genuine risk to my personal safety outweighed the benefits of continuing. 

The fact that I was able to persist throughout that one day, way beyond the limitations of what I thought I could do, was the result not only of my own determination but also of the most amazing support, kindness and patience from many fabulous people along the way. 

I learnt a lot about myself on that trip, both the good stuff and the less good stuff, and it was a provocative and painful experience. At first, my having to drop out after barely completing day one felt like an utter failing. But when I had overcome my initial disappointment and realised what I had actually managed to accomplish during that day, with all limbs intact, I recognised that I was genuinely proud of what I’d achieved.

The journey threw up a lot of questions for me. I’d discovered that when something in our lives is really tough and yet we still manage to find a way to persist on through, there are huge life lessons to be learnt. Lessons that will take us on to further successes and lessons too good not to share.

Something clicked for me during that moment on the mountain, on my own with my motorbike, in a wood in the Pyrenees, faced with the biggest physical challenge of my life. Clients and friends had often remarked to me that I seemed hell-bent on doing

things that frightened me. I tasked myself with finding out what my own particular inclination

towards overcoming scary things was, could it be the difficult childhood, or something else in my past or in my nature? What was my own definition of success? Success, after all, comes in so many guises. The fact is that however success presents itself to us, it is what makes us who we are. During that gruelling motorbike challenge, I learnt lessons for life and for business; lessons about facing fears and people, and the need to challenge one’s way of thinking. 

Above all, I discovered what it truly means to accomplish something I once believed was completely impossible. For me, it wasn’t just about "one day" — but realising that it was the start of "day one."

It all comes down to perspective: "one day" symbolises hope or delay, while "day one" marks a commitment to action and a fresh start.

Which will you choose? 😊