Week 9: Horse Riding

Week 9 of my comfort zone challenge, and this week I decided to take an interest in my sister’s hobby, horse riding. My sister, Sarah, has been riding horses for 21 years, of which she has had her own horse, Bronte, for 10. Being the terrible brother I am, until this week, I think I have only seen Bronte once in those 10 years. I had been living life so in the comfort zone, I’d never taken an interest in my sisters main hobby. So I gave my sister a text, and arranged a riding lesson.

I arrived at Hyfield Stables, in Crowhurst, and as soon as I got out of the car, the fresh farm smell instantly hit me. It’s like a mix of manure and fresh air up your nose. Strangely, the smell really grew on me.

Being 15 minutes early, I sat by the riding school and watched the lesson that was already taking place. There was a girl, no older than 13, just whipping the horse over jumps, making it look easy. I thought to myself, if a 13 year old girl can ride horses, I should be fine.

The Riding School
The Riding School

Sarah arrived, showed me Bronte and then took me to the horse I would be riding, Oliver. She assured me that Oliver was very well behaved and would be no trouble. I was slightly relieved as Oliver was massive.

Sarah set up both the horses with saddle, stirrups and reins and we were ready to go. I actually thought we may start off in the riding school, but Sarah said she would give me a crash course and we’ll head straight out. Sarah’s crash course to her brother was as followed: “Kick to go, pull back to stop, pull one rein to steer.” To be fair, that’s all I needed to know.

My new pal Oliver
My new pal Oliver

Before we left the stables, Oliver decided he wanted a drink. Who am I to argue with him? He’s bigger than me. Rehydrated, we rode into the Crowhurst countryside, fortunately it was a beautiful day. We slowly went through the gears from walk, into a trott, into a canter. The faster we went, the more fun it was.

I quickly realised, horse riding was all about balance. Sarah would always remind me to keep my heels down. This would help with balance and keeping posture as the horse went faster. It was like riding a bike in a way. You had to kick to move (pedal) and steer with the reins. Without kicking, the horse just wouldn’t move.

The ride itself, was a great mix of relaxation with the occasional adrenaline rush to keep yourself entertained. I was really surprised how much I enjoyed it. On top of that, it was a great way to catch up with my sister.

By the end of the ride, my legs were aching, but there were no ‘pelvic’ injuries that I was previously warned about before. I came out feeling much better for doing something different with my Sunday. Makes a nice change from the usual hungover corpse that lies on the sofa most Sundays.

A special thanks should go out to both my sister, for taking me out, and Sophie North of Hyfield Stables for kindly letting me ride her horse Oliver. Below is a highlight reel of the ride!

Week 8: Bingo!

Week 8 of my comfort zone challenge,  saw me visit my local bingo hall. I don’t like to have preconceptions of things, but in my head I pictured bingo being a relaxed, jovial evening out with plenty of the ‘older generation’. It didn’t really appeal to me, how fun can circling numbers be?

In doing my research before the event, I was absolutely amazed to find out this bingo hall was open 11am-11pm, EVERYDAY! I mean, surely there isn’t the demand for bingo, all day, everyday?!

In tack with three of my good friends, we took on, what I assumed to be prime time, the Saturday evening session. Before they would let us loose in the bingo hall, we needed to sign up and become a member. They then asked if we wanted to play on a screen or in a book. Being the traditionalist that I am, and against the advice of the Deluxe Bingo staff, I went for the books with the dabber. It’s not bingo if you’re just touching an Ipad right?

We got a very quick run through on how to play bingo by both the reception staff and the number announcer. For those that have never been, you are given a ticket with 6 boxes, that have the numbers 1-90 randomly positioned within the boxes. The announcer will then proceed to announce randomly generated numbers with the aim being to fill either one horizontal line, followed by two horizontal lines and then one full box, a full house.

We went to the main hall, and to my shock the place was packed. Finding a table for four of us was difficult, and when we finally did find a table, we must of clearly look liked first timers. Instantly as we sat down, the women to the right of me (pictured below), who became my friend over the course of the night, asked “Is it your first time?… Just give me a shout if you need any help”. How hard can it be just highlighting numbers?

Bingo with the boys
Bingo with the boys

It quickly became apparent after the first round, that bingo requires concentration. It wasn’t the relaxed jovial atmosphere I expected, when play started complete silence took over the room, so you could hear the announcer. The numbers are reeled off so quickly, you don’t get a chance to look anywhere but your book. To my dismay, there weren’t any jokes as they announced the numbers. There was no “You and me, Number 3” or “Tickety-boo, 62.” The closest we got was “Two fat ladies, 88”. This did disappoint me.

Once I started getting the knack of filling numbers in time, whilst evaluating how many I needed to complete a line/box, I began to become more and more gutted each time I didn’t win. As we became close to getting a full house, we would whisper to each other, “I’ve got a busy box”. Not sure how we came to calling it that, but every game one of the four of us, would claim their box is getting busy. Each time, we were just one or two away from the prize.

In full concentration...
In full concentration…

As the evening went on, the prizes went up. The jackpot started on £50 and ended up £250. As the prizes became higher, the gasps of disappointment around the room became louder as someone in the room stole the jackpot.

The women next to me would knit in-between games to keep herself entertained. She looked very content, and would occasionally engage in conversation to see how we were getting on. It felt quite mothering, if I’m honest!

The room was boiling and with no windows around, I quickly lost track of time. By the penultimate game, I had no idea what time it was, only that I was three quarters of the way through my pint (I barely had time to drink, the concentration levels were so high). I was one off hitting the first line, which would have given me a £20 prize and in profit for the evening. My top box started to become busy, I told the boys, and they all ignored me. All of a sudden, I was one away from the full house. All I need was the number 67. My friend Mike, opposite me, had noticed I was just one away, and when the number 57 not 67 was called out, he said “you’ve won mate!”.. I hadn’t. When you need one number, that is all your mind is waiting for, you certainly don’t mistake it for another number. Three numbers later… “67!”… “YES!” I cried. I had only gone and hit the full house. I won the £200 cash prize, I couldn’t believe my luck. My women friend, was delighted for me. I think she shouted well done louder than I had shouted to claim the prize.

WINNER
WINNER

In hindsight, I was gutted I didn’t shout BINGO. I definitely had pictured myself shouting it out. I guess in the moment I was too excited to have won.

Ending the night with a lovely little cash prize put me in the mood for celebration, which meant I didn’t wake up the next morning with £200 in my wallet. I woke up with a lighter wallet and a banging headache. I blame the bingo.

I was told by the announcer afterwards, to tell people that not everyone wins first time when they go. What do they say about beginners luck?

Having won some money here, I think it’s time to start giving a bit back and using my luck for some more charitable tasks. If you guys have any good ideas for me, swing them my way!

Week 3: A genuine blind date

In a world where your next relationship/date seems to come from Tinder or some form of social media, this week’s task was extremely refreshing. A genuine blind date. No pictures, no swiping, no ‘liking’ pictures, no small talk prior to the date, just an open mind and trust in a friend.

Off the back of last week’s post, my colleague at work, Poppy, contacted me to bring up the idea. Traditionally, this is something I’d never even consider, my only experiences of a blind date is Cilla Black’s ITV programme or David Brent’s blind date in The Office. So it was an perfect idea for this challenge.

How it all started...
How it all started…

After accepting the offer, all I was told was I’d be meeting a Daisy, aged 20, who’s brunette. I did have mild panic attacks the day before, where I drew on the varied advice from people I knew. One person said “As soon as she sees you, she will love you and then she will talk to you and will love you more”, though this is something my mum would say, I promise it wasn’t her! Then I went to the boys for advice, to which I was advised “Just don’t faint this week”. Brilliant.

Before I go any further, I’d like to make clear that this blog post isn’t about rating how the date went. It would be unfair on Daisy and besides it’s none of your business. This is all about the experience.

Meeting at Brighton Pier at 6pm, I made sure I was fashionably late by arriving 15 minutes early. Thinking I’d be greeted by a Daisy, I was greeted by Rachel, the storm that happened to be taking place in Brighton at the time. Rachel was angry and was doing her best to brush me off my feet before my date even started. Hopefully Daisy would be a bit kinder.

Only when it got to the date, it occurred that she may turn up, see me and leave. You can see by the group ‘WhatsApp’ conversation, I was cool as a cucumber.

Calm and collected
Calm and collected

The good news is she turned up, recognised me from the pictures she had seen and didn’t feel the need to turn around. We got out of the storm, had a meal and went on to drink a few cocktails.

It’s hard to describe the energy I felt before and throughout the evening. Having no idea who was going to turn up and not knowing a thing about their background, was brilliant. There were no expectations and it turned out to be a fun evening. Yeah, it was a risk, but it goes to show you should trust your friends. I knew Poppy was unlikely to stitch me up; she knew both of us and thought we’d get on…. which we did. There were thousands of things to talk about and no pressure at all. The most pressure I had all evening was choosing which cocktails to choose. The ‘Songbird’, chosen purely as it’s an Oasis song, was a success. The Martini, if it’s good enough for James Bond, it’s good enough for me, wasn’t quite so successful.

I’d honestly encourage people to give something like this a go. Trust your friends, take the whole ‘looks’ element out of it and chuck yourselves in the deep end. As I said to myself before the whole thing, what’s the worst that could happen?….. (I didn’t faint this week!)

As always, ideas are encouraged. The list is growing!

Week 2: Giving Blood

Buoyed by all the supportive messages from my first post, I went into week two with an invincible optimism that I could take on the world.

Week two’s task would consist of turning up, giving blood, take a picture, and go home… So I thought.

Having filled out all the forms and having had my blood checked, I was all good to go. “Just go back to the waiting area, it’ll be about a half hour wait” the nurse told me. I received the above tweet, from my friend James Potten, in this half hour wait. I chuckled to myself as the welcome forms tell you that a very small amount of people faint after giving blood.

Half an hour with a nervous energy flowing passed, and it was my turn to give blood. I took my jumper off, sat down and the nurse started to find my vein on my left arm.  It all happened quite quickly, before I knew it there was a sudden prick from the needle into the vein, which wasn’t the most pleasant experience. Once it was in, I was congratulated,  and I started to give a pint of my Group O blood. Giving blood certainly felt weird, but it didn’t hurt at all.  You are then encouraged to do some exercises to keep the blood flowing, including clenching and unclenching both your fist and your buttocks. I found myself clenching my buttocks in time with Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars – ‘Uptown Funk’ which happened to be playing in the background. The nurse took a picture and explained how the demands of blood have doubled over Christmas, so I really was doing a good thing. This made me feel even better as I clenched and unclenched my buttocks away to Bruno Mars.

All going well...
All going well…

The machine beeped, and I’d given my pint. It had taken me about 10 minutes to give blood, which I’m told is about the average time it takes. The nurse slowly got me up to my feet, and escorted me to the refreshment table, where I was offered a drink of squash and a packet of crisps from the table.

I felt great. I was sat down, munching away on my crisps whilst Keane were on in the background. Thinking I completed the task, I thought I’d better check my work emails, just in case I’ve missed anything whilst giving blood (showing the constant professional that I am). Seconds after opening an email, I felt very light headed, and was asked one of the nurses “Are you okay?”.. “I’m fine, I just feel…..” was my reply, as I fell into an amazing dream with Keane continuing to sing. I was later told, I managed to reply to that email, with a blank email!

I woke up with my head being cuddled and a woman’s voice softly saying “Can you hear me?”.. I think I replied with a weird grunt and then they quickly put my on my back with my legs on a ramp, and started to fan me.

Whether it was the lack of blood to the head or the general comedic value of the situation, for the next five minutes I could not stop giggling! Everything the lovely Sister Evelyn asked me I found hilarious. She also found it quite amusing when I decided to take a selfie, moments after fainting (I wasn’t thinking straight okay!). She explained I probably didn’t drink enough water in the run up to giving blood, and being my first time I was probably anxious.

The post faint selfie!
The post faint selfie!

The best part of this story, and maybe the kind of reason I want to do these challenges, was what a gentlemen said to me once I had recovered.

“Don’t worry mate, I fainted and pissed myself after my first time and I’ve now done it 91 times. Don’t let it put you off!”

What a great message to leave on and take from this experience. Turn a setback, into a comeback. With this ringing in my ear, I’ve booked my next appointment to give blood on May 7th and hope maybe I can make it up to 91 times.

Week 2 – Already fainted. Pray for Tom.

Keep your ideas coming in guys… One new experience out side my comfort zone, for each week of the year.

52 weeks, 52 tasks.

New Year’s Resolution – Stepping outside my comfort zone.

According to Forbes’ Magazine, just 8% of people achieve their New Years Resolution. Fortunately, for the last two years I’ve been fortunate enough to be part of that 8%. In 2013, I gave up hangovers with success; and in 2014 I stopped trying to act like I was Dan Blizerian, thinking I’m some sort of millionaire, after getting a full time job. So I’m good at this New Year Resolution stuff. So here’s the deal, 2015 I want to challenge myself!

“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.” – Neale Donald Walsch.

I love this quote, mainly because it enforces the message if you’re willing to change, your life will change also. For years, I’ve been brandishing the quote to friends and colleagues suggesting they need to step out of their comfort zone, like I am some kind of motivational guru that can tell. It was only after a disastrous ‘date’ at the end of November, I realised, I’m living in my comfort zone… and well within it.

The Plan of Action

– 52 tasks outside my usual day to day activities
– 1 per week
– Documented each week

Ground Rules

Thought I’d set some ground rules originally to stop this getting out of hand:

– Nothing involved with this should effect my professional work life
– Spending all my money, doesn’t constitute stepping out of my comfort zone.
– Nothing that effects my personal appearance (linked to the first rule)
– Any thing too risky, particularly with my life, will be binned.

Ideas

Ideas are very welcome… Would you believe, I haven’t filled up all 52 weeks yet!

Week 1 and 2

So I’m covering week one by starting up this blog to document all the progress… Yes it counts, I’ve never done this before.

Week 2, I’ll be giving blood…

ONE DOWN, FIFTY ONE TO GO