Realities and thoughts of a small business owner.....

I've sat and tried to write this so many times. But then I would not be able to start. Or I didn't want to seem like I am looking for sympathy. But I need to share this, and people need to hear it. So many conversations with so many business owners lately, and we are all feeling some form of this! And “this” sucks. It really does. 

Being locked down. Not being able to help people. Having to send patients to their GP or hospital. That's the really crazy part of this.

“Oh, you aren't essential?” That's what I have heard so many times. And it hurts each time. 

Yep… trust me, I hear you. I would have thought that we would be essential as well. Primary Healthcare. That's what they call us normally. Except now. When we can help take pressure off the medical system, GP’s and hospitals. The places they are telling us all to avoid going to if we don't have to. It makes no sense to me as to why we can't open, even if just for emergencies, in pain, patients. Patients who then have to go elsewhere. Patients who then rely on drugs. Patients who are then going to take longer to recover. It is honestly beyond frustrating. To have them practically begging for me to be open. Frustrating. Heartbreaking. Sad. 

Even my son yesterday said to me “ But mum, why can’t you work when you are there to help people with their pain and backs but that man there can water a tree” . We were driving at the time, and there was someone working, doing some watering. I didn't have an answer for him. Honestly, all I had was tears.

My kids have seen me cry way too much over the last 12 months.  I have cried, bawled my eyes out, or simply shed one tear, in front of them, too many times. You see I am a crier. It is the way I let things out. And my kids shouldn't have had to see me cry that much. But they have. I have also been snappy. I have yelled. I have screamed. More than I should have. Because I have already been in a stressed state and then something little sets me off. Or, alternatively, they just haven't cleaned their rooms or put away their shoes after I have asked them about 10 times. I know all the other mums hear me on that. 

But the reality is that, being a small business owner, has created a level of stress. And that stress has flowed into all aspects of my life, as I know it has for so many of us. Stress with the kids. With my husband. I have lost count of the times that he has wiped away my years, or taken over with the kids so I can run away and cry and try and sort things out. It takes a toll. 

And just when you think you get a weekend away to attend an awards night and reconnect, that gets taken away as well. 

And then you just start to get back on top of things at work. Your budget starts to look in the positive again. You have all your staff back. You hire new staff. And lock down hits again.

Suddenly you are back having hard conversations with staff. Telling them to stay home. Trying to work out if as a Chiropractor I can open. Working out shifts so that myself and the other Chiro don't cross paths, so if something happens we have not been exposed to each other. Working a whole plan out. Being so grateful for your amazing team. Then having to change it all when you hear you can't work. That you can't see clients. Oh, hang on, I can do telehealth. So if anyone works out how to do a Chiropractic Adjustment via Telehealth, please let me know! So then the tears flowed again. Anger. Sadness. All the emotions.  Having to call clients and reschedule. Have them upset as they are in pain. Be heartbroken that you can't help. Call staff and make sure they are ok, but also let them know they aren't needed this week. Knowing that impacts them and their budget.  Sit down, and try and work out how you are going to pay all the bills in the next two weeks, without income this week. Once again prioritise paying your staff wages and not yourself. It's not the first time that I haven't been able to pay myself due to being closed for lockdown. And I know that I am not the only small business owner in this situation. And it sucks.

I have worked harder in the last 12 months than ever. I have worked more hours in the clinic. I have seen more patients. I have done more interviews and hired more staff. I have worked too many nights at my laptop at night instead of spending time with my husband or kids. I literally go from school drop off to clients, and straight from finishing with clients back to school pick up. I am that mum on her phone sending an email and finishing notes at pick up. I have written more blogs and articles and been on more podcasts. And don't get me wrong, I absolutely feel lucky to have all these things in my life. But it also sucks when you know you are working your butt off, putting all the money back into the business like you are told to, investing in the business and then at the blink of an eye, you are back to square one financially, not knowing when you will pay yourself again, as your staff and bills and contractors are way more important. You also have to cancel contracts that you were about to get into, to market your business and program, which sucks as well. Because you then know it has an impact on that small business and their income. The flow on is real.   It just sucks. 

And just to go back to kids and school. We were “lucky” last year that we didn't have to homeschool as we both worked and our kids went to school. But then that guilt was huge. It was the time here that you basically only sent your kids to school if you had no other option. One day there were 6, maybe 8 kids in the whole school. 3 of them were ours. The teachers were amazing. And I know my kids were taken care of with love. But it didn't stop the guilt. The tears in the car. The constant to and fro in my mind as to whether I was doing the right thing. It wasn't fun. I know that it wasn't an easy time for the teachers either, but hearing all the things that we shouldn't send our kids, that the school should be closed, that was so hard to take. I remember it like it was yesterday. 

I honestly could go on and on. But I won't. Because I know I am lucky. I have an amazing business with clients who I love. Clients that I am lucky that they let me take care of them. Clients who I shed tears with when they have cancer (and then put on a happy face at school pick up) , give hugs of support to, and also celebrate their wins both in health and life. I honestly love my job. If this whole thing has shown me anything, it has shown me that. That I am lucky to have a job that I love, one that lets me be there for my kids. It is rare that I walk out of work at the end of the day, feeling worse than when I walked in. So thank you to my amazing staff and also any clients reading this. You are all amazing. 

This whole time, since early last year, I have said that the mental health implications of this whole thing will be worse than anything else. At least here in WA. And, whilst that is my opinion only, I stand by it. The stress on small business owners is huge. The stress on every day people is huge. And I am not sure there is enough support for it. I have recently reached out and am getting support. I also stand by all the things I tell  my patients, and I have been doing them. Which is why I think I have still been able to function as well as I have.

Drinking water. Moving my body (my runs have been a saving grace for mind and body). Eating well. Taking time to breathe. Switching off (which I admit I am not as good at this one!). Getting into nature. Sleeping well. Seeing my health care providers. 

I know that if I didn't do all these simple things, then I would be in a completely different place.

And it wouldn't be a good one.

So as hard and as terrible at times that the last 12 months have been, it has really proven what it is that I am about. I am about the simple things. And remembering that the simple things add up and become significant. That we can’t control alot of things. But we can control what we do for our health. Simple things. That's what matters. In terms of our health. And just in life in general. 

I don’t know what the point of this blog post even is. Maybe I just needed to get it all out. But if only one person reads this, and feels a little less alone, or gets the reminder to do one simple thing for their health. Then that is enough of a reason for me to be vulnerable and press post on it.

That time i ran a 350km/200mile ultramarathon....yes thats further than you probably like to drive!

101 hours 58 minutes.
350km
Approx 7 hours sleep
Too many blisters to count
One sore knee
One dirty knee brace thrown away at the end
So many amazing views
One full meltdown/panic attack
Many moderate meltdowns
Many small meltdowns
Too many tears to count
I would hate to know how many swear words and grunts going down hill
3kg lost over the few days
0 times I brushed my hair or teeth
25 packets of baby food
6 cups of noddles
1 cup of the best soup of my life
1 amazing baked potato (considering I don’t like potato this is amazing!)
1 pair of shoes
1 amazing adjustment in Denmark
1 amazing crew
2 amazing pacers

So many new friends
So many things that can’t be mentioned 
So many things I will never forget…….. here is a little more detail of what went down!

It all started Tuesday night in Northcliffe, Check in, race briefing and dinner. This is when I knew I was more nervous that I thought I was, as I really didn’t even want to eat. We were lucky enough to sit next to Sam and his crew, who we ended up spending most of the whole adventure with. So it was great to bond over dinner the first night. Then home for sleep, which I actually managed to sleep amazingly which was fab.

Wednesday morning, off to the start line. I made the error of not drinking enough water before I started running and paid for it at the first aid station. The first leg I don’t really remember much off, which means it cant have been that bad, maybe? I do remember playing tag team with a few different runners. It was already hot and I was ready to get out of my tights and into shorts. So that’s what I did at the first aid. Nowhere to change meant I made some men a little uncomfortable stripping down and putting on shorts. But sorry guys, not sorry! A girl has to do what a girl has to do. I left the aid a bit flat and not feeling right. I should have stayed longer but was keen to get going. The next leg was focused on drinking water and regrouping myself, which I manage to do. Next aid was at Chesapeak Rd East. Ben had it all set up ready to drink and eat and cool down before heading out again. Except I had my first little (aka big) meltdown. My watch was on charge and it decided to stop the run. So now I wouldn’t have the whole 350km in one lot. It caused a meltdown and a few choice words. But again, a few kms in and I got over it. Head down, bum up, and get to the next aid.

11.7km to Dog Rd. I really enjoyed this section. I dont remember much else, other than I enjoyed it. Music was on. Legs were moving well. Coming into the aid, I saw Ben running down to meet me to find out what I needed, so it was all there ready to go. A toilet here would have been fab…but hey, cant have it all, right? Mentally I came into this aid, and out of it, feeling amazing. A quick stop, and back out. I wouldn’t see Ben at the next aid…it killed me a little bit to think he was going off for a good dinner and a beer!

18km to Pingerup Rd. According to my notes this was a long hot exposed section. Lucky I was going slow so it was late arvo, into the evening when I did this bit so it wasn’t too bad. Definitely better than I expected. Feet and legs were still feeling good. Music on. Power along. A few brief chats with runners along the way, we were all getting it done! The aim was to get into the next aid before dark. Mission accomplished. This aid was the best ! The best people manning it, the most amazing array of food. Lights and high vis on and I headed out into the night with another runner, Charmaine. It was a fast hike to the next aid, some chats, some silence, but it was a good section. It was my first night “run” after running all day and I was still feeling ok. Tired, but ok. Into Broke Inlet, coffee, biscuits, chats with Ben, and I was ready to go again. I was tired, but really wanted to push to Walpole before a sleep. I headed back out with another runner, Dave. Again, it was a hike through a very overgrown part of the course. So many branches and bushes in our way. I was so grateful that Dave offered to go in the front most of the way! We also collected Sam who had gone for a little trot off course, and he joined up for the last bit into Mandalay Beach Rd Aid.

I got here and I was honestly exhausted. There was a lot of ups and downs heading into the aid. It seemed like it took forever to get into the aid. And then it was the one aid of the whole thing that Ben wasnt ready for me. But everyone chipped in, Sams crew started taking care of my feet as I got my first blisters in that leg. They also got me a coffee. Ash was checking into make sure we had what we needed while he waited for his runner. It was such an amazing atmosphere. I headed out of there refreshed but exhausted. This next section was going to be killer. The aid station crew did say that I was leaving at the perfect time to get the sunrise over the dunes…and while i was dubious that they said this just to perk me up, the sunrise was AMAZING! It definitely gave me some more get up and go! Sand dunes. Heat. Long. And a massive mountain at the end. Oh, also a suspension bridge over the river thrown in there. For me, that was terrifying in itself! But I was motivated by the thought of sleep and meeting my pacers.

Coming into the Deep River Crossing aid I saw a rubber duck on the ground and thought to myself that is so odd, why would that be there, someone must have dropped it. It wasn’t until I saw a few more that I realised it was leading into the aid. Clearly tired. Ben made me eat, drink and refuel. Chats with a few different crews and I was feeling good and ready to go. The next leg had to be easier than that one, which was brutal! And this one led into Walpole which meant sleep and pacers! This is where the wheels fell off. 134km in to the race, 4 km into this leg my knee went. I don’t know what exactly happened. Down a hill, sharp pain, and I knew it wasn’t good. Phone turned on for the first time in the whole race, to let the team know that I would be longer than expected. Over the next 6 km a random hiker came up behind me and said I wasn’t moving very well and should get that looked at. I agreed, holding back tears. I hobbled into Walpole, dirty, exhausted, and in tears. Eve and Michelle were welcome faces to see, and I am sure they wondered what the hell they had gotten themselves in for at this point! A shower and a sleep. I just needed a shower and a sleep. A quick nap, blisters done, knee brace on, poles in hand and off Eve and I went. A quick leg to the giant tingle tree aid. And yes Eve - Tingle is a type of tree, its not just because they give you tingles haha We also stopped to take in an amazing view at this point…..boy, were we unprepared for al the amazing views we would see after this!

Into the next aid in good time. More amazing noodles and refreshments and Michelle and I were off for a night run all the way to the Tree Top Walk. I had had some pain killers so I managed to run a bit in this section, but it was pretty much going to be the last bit of running I would do for the whole thing. We were 150km in at the start of the leg, and by the next aid we would be half way. I loved this leg. Maybe because it was cooler and night. Lots of downhill. Lots of fun. Maybe I remember it fondly as it really was the last good, fun, running, good head space, leg. We arrived into the tree top walk. I wanted a 30min nap but decided to do the Tree Top Walk first. To put it into perspective, I hate heights. Like hate standing on a chair, hate heights. So I literally go on this tree top walk, and walked. And screamed. And swore. And panicked. The whole way around. Thanks Eve for having my back the whole way round, and Michelle for filming my panic. Then it was in for a 30min rest, noodles, soup, coffee and back off into the night with Eve.

I left this aid hoping my knee would allow me to run. No deal. No deal at all. More pain killers and I could move without screaming and without sharp pain but that is as good as it got. I honestly don’t remember much about this leg. I do however remember getting into the aid, and having a quick nap on the front seat of the car which was amazing. And also eating the best baked potato I have ever had. Putting it into perspective….I don’t like baked potato normally, but this one was AMAZING! Now it was heading out along the beach and cliffs for an absolutely stunning sunrise over the cliffs. Ocean and water on both sides. Cliffs. Dunes. It really made all the hurt worthwhile. The pressure was on now to make decent time into Peaceful Bay so I could shower and sleep before we had to be out at the 11am cut off. I had wanted a 3 hours sleep here and it was becoming evident that I wasn’t going to get it. I really should have not showered, and slept more, but hey lesson learnt along the way! Bens cooking and omelette skills here were so good, so i went to sleep semi clean and full belly.

Up and at them now for the longest stretch without crew. It was 34km with one aid stop. 23.4km with a kayak across the inlet (which I was terrified of falling out the whole time), and then a long, hot and exposed sandy section of ups and downs, a beach section or three, and then a very welcomes extra water drop and hug from Shaun. Tears were flowing, exhaustion was real and I was hurting. Lets just say I was a bit of a mess. I went into meltdown about 800m out from the aid, when I could see it but it seemed so far away. Walked into the aid a complete teary mess.And of course it was an aid with about 8 people sitting at it. I layed down for 20 minutes, ate noodles, had some coke…..and life was good again. Saw an absolutely stunning sunset and we were off. This is where the wheels fell off again. You could call this a full on panic attack. That I wouldn’t make cut off. That I wouldn’t finish. You see, when I run normally, I occupy my brain by calculating when I will finish if I go X speed, what time I will get to X if I go X pace. And trying to do that, severely sleep deprived and in pain, set of a not so fabulous chain of events. Eve did amazing to get me in to Parrys beach. Sorry Sam….for picking you up along the way, then having said panic, and leaving you behind. I will always remember the random lady who spoke to me from the shower as I was in the toilet when i first got to the aid. She wanted to know why there was no hot water. I was way more polite in my answer than I felt like being! I slept, my team calculated, I ate, drank and off I went again…..along the beach…..into the bugs, never ending bugs attacking our headlamps. Michelle somehow put up with it all so I could turn mine off and go bug free. I will be forever grateful. Thats all I remember of that leg, the big climb, and the bugs. Oh and the hallucinations. Every foot print had a face in it. From clowns, to old men, to babies, I saw it all!

Another aid. Another quick nap in the car. A cheeseburger. And off we went to attack Monkey Rock. So grateful for flagging. So grateful for daylight. It was hard and slow. Then we started to hit civilization and the next cut off point for Denmark. This was also where Stu came running past doing a park run in the middle of a 350km race. I mean seriously? I again went into calculation mode (sorry team!) and again panicked that I was short of time. My planned several hours sleep in Denmark would not happen. I also gave up a shower to get 1.25 hours sleep. Then its was up, fed, feet, get the most amazing chiropractic adjustment of my life from Matt, and make the 12noon ferry. A pep talk from Georgia here also got the tears flowing again. I was in such a world of hurt and exhaustion, but I had been through so much at this point, there was no option but to make it to the end. Stopping was not an option. It wasn’t jsut about me at this point, it was about everyone else as well.

The ferry ride was 4 women, exhausted, emotional, in pain, but so determined and strong. I will never forget those 10 minutes. The next leg was flat and short. A good moral booster. A fast aid stop and then next leg was underway, on to lowlands beach. To be honest, I lost it again on this leg. Started to calculate. I knew that I had to stop doing it, but I just couldn’t. It was a long and painful leg (as they all seemed to be at this point). Tears from both myself and Eve. Frustration. Exhaustion. Apologies. Slow going. Disappointment that we could see the lights to the aid but still had so far down hill (which was what was really causing me pain). But we made it. And Sams crew were cooking hash browns. AMAZING, thanks guys!! I shut my eyes for a few minutes. Re grouped. Lathered in Fisiocream. And got ready for the next leg. It was going to be overnight. With a section of very steep downhill. I honestly felt that if anything was going to break me, this bit would be the section. But I also never let that thought into my head for longer than a second. I would do it. There was no other option. It was as bad as I thought. I honestly don’t know how Michelle got me though, I screamed, grunted, swore, down every single step. I described that pain of every step as worse than childbirth. I stand by that statement. There was about 5 other runners all close that we kept swapping positions with. I felt sorry for them having to listen to me. Sorry guys! But it did give me hope. I felt like I was going so ridiculously slow. So having others around me, gave me hope that I could still do this. And we made it. Just. it was about an extra 1km than we thought. with a massive down hill to end it. It was a fast aid stop. I knew we had to push at this point. The last aid Ben and I had a conversation that from here on in, there is not going to be alot of sleep. It was head down, be strong, find that next level of grit and stubborness and get the job done. I knew I had to, I needed to for me. But I also needed to for my team. I had put them all through so much. And I needed to finish for them, as much as I needed to finish for me.

Next stop was Cosy corner. it was a shortish leg, and it started fast and feeling fab. Then I got a headache and dizzy. It honestly was the only point in the whole thing that I was concerned that I would be pulled from the event and wouldn’t make it. We slowed down. Had a drink and something to eat. Saw a skeleton on the side of the path that was actually a flower. Complained that Glens notes said it was downhill into the aid and it seemed we were going uphill. We made it. a 20min nap in the chair. Waking to the most amazing soup. I was patched up, Fisiocreamed up, and sent out on my way along the beach. Michelle and I joked that it would be amazing if this was a shorter leg that we expected, as most of them had been longer than the figure we were given. And turns out there is a god. It was a few km shorter than expected. The best feeling ever. And , no bugs!! This quick leg allowed me to have another quick 20 min kip in the chair before a quick outfit change and heading out for the last two legs. It was now that I was actually starting to actually allow myself to think that I would finish. Whilst I knew that I would, there was never a doubt in my mind, it was the first time I actually let myself believe and imagine crossing the finish line. It was also amazing to know that the small group of runners that I had been with for most of the time, were also all on track to finish from here on in. I wanted them all to finish as much as I wanted to finish.

Second last leg started well, good spirits. Then a blister played up, badly. so we had to stop and patch it. It was still stinging with every step. Not fun. Then we thought we were off course a little. Not fun. Lots of swearing. Lots of pain. Lots of “how far” and “ how long” and “am I still on track to finish”. Lots of tears. A couple of runners went past. One ran. I knew he was in pain, but he was still running. That almost broke me. We were both in pain but he could run, where as I honestly felt like I was fighting for every single step. I was so happy for him, and so heartbroken for me. At this point I then thought I was coming dead last. And honestly that didn’t actually bother me. I started to plan blog post titles around the day I came last. I also knew that it was going to be a pretty cool learning experience for my kids, that you can come last (or third last as the case actually turned out to be), and still be cheered in and have so many people there to support you, and that it is ok not to win. That it really is about rolling with the punches and just doing yours best.

It was a long and painful leg. But we made it. That last aid station. Someone had a maccas cheeseburger there for me. Honestly - amazing! I don’t remember who you were (sorry!) but if you read this - thank you! Sat down, found out I wasn’t last, refueled, chatted and got ready to do the last leg. This aid station, it is customary to drink a beer. I passed. And I am so glad that I did. The last leg with absolute killer. I was under prepared for the heat. I knew I was so close to the finish, but also knew it was hours away. My head was in the worst place for these 11 km than it had been the whole time. Hot, exposed, sandy. Exhausted, stubborn, digging deep, crying, swearing and screaming. Pretty sure that sums it up. Those steps. Those down hill steps, shattered me. I am pretty sure that I almost shattered Michelle too! It was a hell of few hours. I don’t want to know how many times I asked her to check in on the other runners - the ones I had been with the whole time who were crossing the finish, and also the two behind us, I was egging them in to the finish so hard. We got through. Walking along the water. Seeing my kids and family. I knew that I had made it. With just over 2 hours to spare.

Crossing the line is such a blur.

Sitting, getting my feet unpacked and cleaned, I fell asleep, with one of my kid sleeping on my lap. dirt all over my face. Hair everywhere. Unbrushed teeth since Wednesday morning. Stinking so bad. Exhausted beyond belief. But so proud that I did it. That we did it. I couldn’t have done it without my team. Hubby, Ben, you were so perfect. Everything I could have asked for in a crew and more. Calm. Collected. Nothing was too much. You worked with Michelle and Eve so well. Communication was amazing so when I got into aids I just had to sit or sleep or do what I needed to do. Michelle and Eve. Thank you for being the best pacers and photographers that a runner could ask for. Thank you for believing in me. For pushing me. For putting up with me. Without you three, the absolute dream team, I would no have gotten across the line. No words will ever be enough. I said before the event that once it got to race day, I had the easy job. One foot in front of the other. The team had the hard job of making sure I had what I needed, making sure I was on time, doing it all, whilst they were sleep deprived and tired as well! I stand by that too, I do think I had it easier than them in alot of ways.

So what did I learn out of all of this?

That your body really will go where your mind will go. It is your mind that stops you not your body. Maybe I was stupid to keep going from Walpole, injured. Maybe it was idiotic. Maybe I have done more of an injury by keeping going. Maybe I am selfish for putting my team through that and seeing me in that pain. Maybe I am too stubborn for my own good. Or maybe, just maybe, I am stronger than I knew. Physically and mentally. Maybe, just maybe, I needed to do it for all those people who cant. So many people want to have crazy adventures, or just walk, or run, and they cant. So I did it for them. Maybe, we are the lucky ones. We got to experience something amazing. Once in a lifetime stuff. Right now I am still processing it all. Still working out exactly what I learnt. Still dealing with blisters and knee pain. So much still to process, so maybe that is another blog for another day.

But right now I know this….never again. Not as a runner anyway. I would crew and pace. But I would never do it as a runner again. Been there, done that. Highly recommend it to anyone (and remember I only started training for this in June so anything is possible if you believe it!), but for me, once is enough as a runner!

Thanks for the ride. Thanks for the highest of highest and lowest of lows. The tears, love, laughter and hugs. Thanks for the blisters and sore knees. For the new friends for life. Thanks for the life lessons that I haven’t quite figured out what they are yet. Thanks for coming along on the journey with me. Thanks for making me realise that I really can do anything. Thanks for letting me be me, and discover a little bit more about who i actually am. For now, and always, I will be a 200 miler. And that sounds pretty damn good!