I’m an entrepreneur, at work

Posted on August 13, 2017 by Bo

I sat at my desk last week a different person to the one I was just a few months ago. Butterflies fluttered around in my stomach and felt like I was tiptoeing on clouds ready to leap off a cliff at the same time.

KK and I have successfully started our own small business. We are officially entrepreneurs!

No one around me noticed the change ~~(or perhaps panic in my face)~~. People are busy and there’s very little time nowadays for anyone to stop and check-in on one another. It’s a pity because I’m not the only one standing at the edge of that cliff.

As I gazed around the desks, it dawned on me that I would not be where I am today had it not been for many of my colleagues. Their support, friendship and lessons over the years has grown me into the person I am today.

Pulling this off would also not have been possible without all the skills I had picked up during my 15 years of service at Standard Bank.

I’ve learnt the power of networking. Of relationship-building.
I understand the brand and how important it is to be true to what it is I’m selling.
I know how to assess the market & be aware of my competitors.
I’ve picked up key skills such as negotiation and buy-in.
I guess what excites me the most is the social media and engagement with potential customers.
I’ve also been taught that while the good times come, so do the bad and that it’s only by putting hard work into something that you see success.
Most of all, I’ve learnt patience. Things happen when the time is right.
The view from the 4th floor of my office. Development is happening all around me.

As the bank grows, so do I. The courses I go on, the people I interact with. All of it adds to moulding me into a cleverer thinker, to be more strategic and constantly have a business-like mindset to every decision I make.

The more I grow at work, the more my business benefits. And because I’m eager to make a success out of both, the more effort I put in.

It’s a win win situation.

Reflecting on this year’s Two Oceans race

Posted on May 7, 2017 by Bo

It’s long overdue and regular readers of my blog might have noticed that I haven’t yet published my annual account of my Two Oceans half marathon race.

In previous blog posts, I’ve mostly bitched about the race and vowed (every time) never to return. It’s been a love hate relationship. However this year, everything fitted together like a puzzle and it turned out that I ran the race with very different eyes.

The race was a few days after a friend had let us know about the cancer moving to two parts of her brain. Her regular WhatsApp messages popped in and out of my thoughts sporadically & my mind flashed through what she was going through.

The night before the race, I had said to myself, how can I moan when I know how much Susan loves triathlons and swimming & would love to just get out there and run? So I didn’t moan and woke up on race morning looking forward to the race.

I started in race category D which kinda felt like I had golden circle tickets at a rock concert. It also meant less time waiting compared to category E and loads more room to stand in.

10 minutes before the race started, my mind flipped into panic mode. But instead, I thought, scared? Bron you don’t know what scared is. Susan is scared.

When it hurt near the 17kms mark and my legs were tired, I thought you don’t know what tired is. This is not pain. Not like what Susan is going through.

And when I wanted to quit, I remembered that quitting was not an option for her.
Finally, when I crossed that finish line, I said “this is for you Susan”. But somehow, the message was really for me. I had come through 21.1kms having learnt something quite humbling about myself.

I moan about my running way to often. I criticize my pace and point out all my weaknesses. I blame the race, the race organizers and my training. It’s the backbone to my blog. But I need to stop. I am a runner and incredibly grateful to be able to cross those finishing lines at road races.

I am good enough. My body is good enough! There are so many people out there who don’t have the opportunities or the health that I have to be able to run. So from now on, every time I don’t feel like running, I’ll think of those that wish they could. I’ll think of Susan. Because what she made me realize, that every time I put my running shoes on, I need to be grateful that I am able to run. It doesn’t matter how slow or fast or even how far. We seem to forget that.

Running towards the fear

Posted on November 19, 2015 by Bo

I saw this quote about two weeks ago. It immediately grabbed my attention and I’ve wanted to shout it out on various social media platforms. But I haven’t. Because I’m not yet ready to be brave enough to say it out loud. To announce what I’m planning on doing.

It feels as if I could easily use this image for a number of incidents going on in my life currently. So I didn’t want to waste the words by sharing it too early or for something trivial. Because it isn’t. And the words are *that* powerful to me.

I read it over and over again and it’s beginning to make sense. There are others that also resonate with me too. Such as these…

So it’s the 32km Tough One race on Sunday. I’ll just leave it there…

Lost

Posted on November 5, 2015 by Bo

I got lost. I was running with a bunch of other runners, I had a map in my hand. But I got lost. What started as a relaxed, peaceful run turned ugly but it has made me reflect on my attitude these past few weeks.

When my running friend informed me that she would not be able to run, I still decided to head out with the rest of the running group, knowing full well that they were all way faster than me and would most probably run off after the first km. I still thought I was fine. Map in hand. Off I went.

It was when I got passed 7.5kms that I started to worry. Where was the turnaround point? Was the map right? Why was I stuck on such a busy main street? Where were the other runners? I couldn’t see any of them so I decided I’d better head back the same way I’d come. But somehow, I got it wrong. I took a wrong turn and landed up in the dodgiest of streets.

My gut told me things weren’t right. I suddenly felt scared, alone and incredibly vulnerable. All I wanted to do was cry. I started to blame others; the faster runners for not waiting, KK for not being with me; my gammy knee which had started to ache; pretty much everyone got a swearing. But most of all I blamed myself. I hated that I found myself in that helpless situation. I hated the fact that I ran so slowly and couldn’t keep up with anyone else. I hated running and I had no idea where I was going.

It’s been two weeks since the incident and I’ve spent lots of time reflecting on that day. A lot of what I went through feels so familiar to how I’m feeling at the moment. I’m lost. I don’t know if it’s just the end of the year fatigue setting in, but I’m not myself.

It feels as if I’m still out there on those streets with my body filled with anguish and confusion. It feels as if nothing is familiar. The more I run, the less I see. The faster I go, the further everything feels. I’m not myself and my map is not helping me. I’m blaming everyone else for my lose of direction. I’m irritated with everyone, including myself.

I’ve lost sight of the goal. I’m lost. I need to find my passion again and I’m glad I’ve stopped to realise it now before it’s too late. Instead of blaming and allowing the situation to overwhelm me, I need to take back control.

I took this beautiful pic on my long run on Sunday, a week after I got lost. I stopped to appreciate things along the way.

This past Sunday I went out for a long run. Compared to the previous week, my head was right. I was prepared. I loved my run. Every single minute of it.