“It’s not whether you get knocked down, it’s whether you get up” – Vince Lonbardi 

I’ve had my fair share of being knocked down. From workplace bullying in my 40s, open-heart surgery in my 50s, the ravages of Graves’ Disease in my 60s, plus the usual challenges of life, including bereavement. 

Each time, I’ve picked myself up, dusted myself off, and carried on—usually stronger and more resilient. 

I could have given up. 

When I had heart surgery, I was fortunate to receive solid support during recovery. Cardiac care is one of the few areas in the NHS that offers a structured rehabilitation program, with advice and guided physical sessions. Of course, there were still those who told me to take it easy and step away from the barbell.

With Graves’ Disease, though, you’re lucky if you even get an explanation of what it is—let alone guidance on how to recover beyond just popping the medication and regular blood tests. So I did my own research. Once again, I stood up, brushed myself off, and got on with my recovery.

But when you have to keep getting up, it gets exhausting. You know exactly what it will take to recover. And at some point, you start to wonder, albeit fleetingly —‘is it even worth it?’

Graves’ Disease has robbed me of my strength and endurance twice. The mugging takes just a few weeks; regaining what’s lost takes months. But I’m doing it. It feels humiliating—an illogical emotion, but real nonetheless. My strength is returning. I’ve even signed up for a half marathon in October to rebuild my endurance. 

Yet, sometimes, the physical knockdowns are the easiest to recover from. Psychological ones—those that damage your beliefs, confidence and self-esteem—can keep you down much longer. 

The end of 2024 was brutal. I’m still trying to come to terms with it. Did I do something wrong? Could I have been better? What I do now appreciate is how physiological trauma can have a physical impact. And that is what I’m currently dealing with.

As we entered the end of 2024 all I can hope for was a better 2025. I forced myself to consider what I could do differently. Fortuitously, my gym circulated a brilliant goal-setting worksheet—not just a list-making exercise, but one that challenged me to connect my goals with my personal values. It required self-visualization, and a deeper reflection on what is important.

My coach asked if I was happy to complete the worksheet in preparation for a catch-up. Yes, of course—but not yet. Some of the questions made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t in the right headspace to answer them—my self-esteem was still too dented by recent events.

I suggested we meet at the beginning of February. As the date approached, I began filling out the worksheet. It still felt too soon, but I had given my word, and I knew the process would be cathartic.

We met, and I only cried once. In the 10+ years I’ve known my coach, I’ve cried a handful of times—so she knows what I’m like.

One section of the worksheet asked me to visualize how I saw myself in the coming months. And, as a picture can say a thousand words, this is what I shared courtesy of Bitmoji:

Not that you’d ever catch me riding a motorbike, but the image captured exactly how I wanted to feel.

I want to be Fit and Fierce.

Fit: Strong and with a VO2 Max that gets me over the half-marathon finish line and up the next mountain. And away from a hospital bed.

Fierce: Unapologetically pursuing my passions and purpose.

And then there’s fun. Not that I’m particularly fun—I’m probably quite boring. But it’s about making space for joy. I know exactly why I became ill (Graves’ Disease relapse) at the end of last year: I let work consume me. Ridiculous, really, since I’m retired from full-time employment. But I had become submerged in writing a book chapter and working on my MA dissertation. Add in some personal issues, and I had depleted every opportunity to have fun.

I remember waking up one morning and thinking, “there is no joy in my life”. I fell ill shortly after that.

So, in my plan for 2025, my life looks like this:

Health and Fitness: The foundation for everything. Without it, life is grey and limits the other blocks. So, it is a priority.

Fun: What makes life worth living. I have no excuse to push it to the sidelines. It matters.

Work: What gives me purpose. I’m a Career and Leadership Coach. Recently, someone told me that I’d changed her life. That’s powerful. And I write – I’m just weeks away from being a published author.

After the darkness of 2024, 2025 is looking a little brighter.