My birthday weekend. Sixty years old. Although I have been boring everyone with my run up to this occasion it still feels a little surreal. How did it happen? It only seems a heartbeat since I celebrated my 40th birthday with a 8 month old balanced on my hip. Now he is fast approaching 21 and I’m in receipt of my bus pass and an invitation to present a poo sample for screening.

So how did I do with my ambitions in doing 60 for 60. The bad news is that I only got to 54 ticks. I never managed a pull up, to read Little Women or master Pinterest. But I did manage to cram a lot in. I made a lot of memories and started preparing for my encore career. 

The most physically demanding thing I did was the Three Yorkshire Peaks. Thirteen hours, three mountains, twenty-four miles. At one point it looked as if it may have been the Two Yorkshire Peaks but I dug in to find myself running to the bottom of the third mountain. I’ve never been so exhausted. Never again. Except I’ve now signed up for the Three Welsh Peaks this August.

The Certificate in Professional Coaching was the most mentally challenging. Learning to focus 100% on a conversation was and still is demanding. But I’m loving the power of coaching so much that I’m following it up with a Certificate in Career Coaching in October. I’m particularly interested in the transition from work into retirement and the behavioural changes required to embrace a more active life. But at the moment I’m happy to coach across the life/work continuum. 

The best place I visited was Kew Gardens on a hot summers day. It was my first visit. Such a beautiful, tranquil place. Although the largest infinity pool in Europe (Tenerife) was a close second.

The best book I read was New York Trilogy by Paul Auster. Not the easiest of reads and unsettling at times. But days after completing it I was still thinking about it. I usually move onto my next book without a second thought. 

Just for its ability to make me laugh out loud I have to mention Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman. Eleanor may well be on the spectrum but we can all relate to her in some way. Her experience of bikini waxing and dancing to YMCA was brilliant.

My most unexpected experience was Massaoke. My daughter and I came across this by chance when we went out to celebrate her birthday. Hundreds of people singing along with a middle aged band on the bank of the River Thames. Sometimes the spontaneous, unexpected experiences are the best. A close second was finding myself in a competition five minutes before kick off. At least I didn’t have a chance to get nervous.

My worse experience was Regents Park Open Air Theatre’s The Turn of the Screw. We, like many others that were there, weren’t expecting an opera. It was excruciating.

My proudest achievements were my strength ones. I can deadlift 110kg, benchpress 40kg and backsquat 72.5kg. There is something very empowering in being strong and getting stronger. And these stats would qualify me to compete in a power lifting competition. Just.

Apart from a very sad family berievment it has been a wonderful year. Aiming for a 60 for 60 has resulted in experiences and achievements that I may have bumped for another time if ever. And that time may not have come and ‘ever’ never does. Plus I wrote about it. I can revisit the year at any time. And you never know my children may one day take an interest in what their mother wrote about as she approached a significant landmark in her life.

Once the cards are packed away, the cake eaten and the gin, rum and champagne dented I will start looking at a 70 for 70. What do I want to achieve in my next decade? What countries do I want to visit, what mountains do I want to climb, what books to read? Do I want to do an Ironman or enter that power lifting competition? Who knows. For now I’m enjoying my free London travel and feeling grateful that I got here.

Finally a note about the photograph. It is of two birthday presents. The picture is from my brother and his family. It is of my brother and I with my mum. It captures my 60 for 60 experiences as Memories Being Made. The candle is from the husband and daughter of my best friend who died nearly three years ago. It is her favourite scent.

‘The saddest moment is when the person who gave you the best memories, becomes a memory’.

So true. Memories are to be treasured but also to be made. So  as I sign off my 60th year I am slipping on my walking boots to climb another mountain.