Sometimes,I get a bolt out of the blue that reminds me of the humble beginnings of my entrepreneurial journey…

What am I talking about?

Well how does the idea of turning sideways and Indiana Jones style inching along the wall to get INTO the shower cubicle sound like?

Or having 8 mini heaters in the winter, wearing jumpers and tracksuit bottoms to bed?

How about sharing your living space with every shape,size and speed of spider known to man?

How about banging your head EVERY FUCKING NIGHT when you go to bed?

Or pooling your cash together to figure out of you had enough to get food the next day, and rushing into Morrison’s just before closing when you realised you had enough to buy yourself a treat for a quid from the reduced section?

Sound fun?

Well you know what? It kinda was…

I used to live in a little place called ‘The Coach House’. Why? It was a coach house in the 18th century in the town where I grew up -and it was all me and my then girlfriend could afford after I jacked everything in in London, and came home without a fucking clue what to do next.

But you know what?

We made it work.

We didn’t have much money.We walked. We trained. We made bland and cheap food interesting with all manners or sauces and spices. We read. We laughed. We borrow DVDs. We enjoyed Freeview.

But both of us (she was a world champion dancer, and I had quite the pedigree in business and fitness) felt that we deserved more.

So we went for it.

Between us,we worked our asses off because we had one goal.

To buy a big telly for the London Olympics…

Seriously, I hustled my fucking nuts off (with her support) and managed to get £600 and bought the biggest TV we could afford -it was bigger than our living room window!

BEST.
SUMMER.
EVER.

We had hardly anything except the big TV and the Olympics and it made us so happy.

Why am I telling you this?

Well for one thing, one of my FAVOURITE days happens once every 4 years -super Saturday with the athletics. The last time it happened,I worked my ass off to get all my work done so (even though at the time I was in a luxury bastard mansion reiterate lol) I was in front of the TV till the small hours.

And that?

It’smade me realise how grateful I am for everything I have now -I made a vow back then (I’m not making this up for story effect) that one day I would ‘make it’ and reward all the people who have been there for me, supported me, and kept me sane/going/alive.

Because I did come from relative nothing.

No handouts.

No inheritance.

Nothing but a cheeky attitude, an intense desire to make something of my life and a ridiculous work ethic.

In closing…

Remember where you come from, but don’t let it define you -if you truly, 100% want something, are prepared to give it your all?

You really can achieve it -you just have to want it enough and be prepared to make the sacrifices and do the things that others aren’t…