Back to Work After a Heart Attack
Will I ever be able to do my job again? Twelve years on, standing in a storm-blown wood, I share how confidence came back in wee pieces.
Will I ever be able to do my job again? Twelve years on, standing in a storm-blown wood, I share how confidence came back in wee pieces.
The night I almost didn’t wake up, and the day, eleven years later, I finally told everyone. Same date, twice.
Four days of brushing off a cough ended with an ambulance. This summer, I made the call the same day. Same instinct, different response.
A quiet Saturday ride, a loch, and an engine cut to silence. Twelve years on, this is where my own mortality finds me now.
There’s a tree I love planting more than any other — the kind that outlives the man who put it in the ground. This is the story of why I started building something with that same purpose in mind.
A hot afternoon, a heavy knapsack, and a voice telling me to keep going long after I should have stopped — and what I’ve learned about knowing the difference.
I’ve always known how to look after people. What I didn’t know how to do was let someone look after me.
Something changed after my heart attack that made it easier to talk about the hard stuff — and I don’t think it was courage.
A year ago I sat with my finger hovering over a button. Terrified, excited, no idea where it would lead. This is what happened between that moment and now — the fear, the growth, and the year that changed everything.
If I could sit down with the man running those hotels before any of this happened, I know exactly what I’d tell him. Not slow down. Not stop dreaming. Master the art of delegation.