I am not sure I could have planned being diagnosed with leukaemia better or worse.
Life before leukaemia was in flux and exciting new beginnings – from a work perspective in Jan 2023 Bam Boom Cloud, the company I was Chief Commercial Officer and one of 6 leadership team shareholders was sold to Pax8. I suspect it would have been “bumpy” if I had been diagnosed 6 months before – so 1 in the box for good timing
Outside of work we wanted to move to the Isle of Man for a number of reasons – my wife and and her family are from Peel – a beautiful coastal town – known as sunset city. We had considered moving when our youngest was between GCSEs and A Levels and our eldest headed off to Uni but Covid put paid to that idea so we stayed put for 2 years and started to plan as my youngest approached A-levels and then expectation of University.
As part of that journey we’d sold the family home of 19 years and agreed to move out prior to even exchanging on our new house in the isle of man as we were top of the chain. We had shipped our worldly goods to the island in massive truck, we’d even cleaned out the loft.
The Isle of Man is a beautiful place – famous for the TT motorbike races. It’s also difficult / expensive to get on and off due to being in the middle of the Irish sea so ferries in the winter are often either cancelled or decidedly bouncy. It still makes me smile as the Manxman (super shiny lovely new ferry) pops out of harbour into the Irish sea to a chorus of car alarms screaming blue murder fearing for their lives as the first of the 3 to 4 hours worth of waves lifts and rolls the ship.
If however you end up on the old boat – the Ben My Cree (supposedly a trade in from a certain Noah from the Persian Gulf) or the Mannanon (a re purposed fast attack catamaran capable of over 40 knots – seriously it’s pretty cool at full chat) then the facilities are pretty minimal – Carnival Cruises it isn’t.
The TT is the most mental motorsport I have ever seen and I’ve been to Moto GP, rallies, F1 etc nothing gets close to the sheer madness of being stood literally on the pavement of a “normal” B road that’s been used as a race circuit for 2 weeks of the year and bikes passing at over 200mph – the average lap speed time is over 135 mph on roads what most of the UK would call lanes and backroads. It puts a massive smile on my face that it’s still allowed – people die every year doing what they love always thinking it won’t happen to them but like moths to a flame they can’t help going back for the speed and rush. You are not dead yet definitely.
I think most people fall into one of two camps – I remember a day at the end of consolidation chemotherapy when my brother Greg and I had gone for milk. This a euphemism from our childhood is to go for a spin, a totally unnecessary drive for the fundamentally enjoyment of driving (and in the past to get out from under our mothers gaze in case she gives us jobs to do).
We drove over the mountain road from Ramsey to Douglas early on a Sunday morning, a spectacular and one of the many derestricted (there is no speed limit) miles of road heading up past the highest point Snaefell and back down to Douglas. It’s one of those journeys that just makes my heart sing, the corners flip flop into each other and you generally have great visibility to crack on. Visibility is excellent in certain sections where you can see the road as it snakes across the hillside.
Two bikers where heading towards us as speed best described as ballistic – I purposely slowed (from my own tame efforts at speed) and as they passed something north of 150 mph – the wash of their passage rocking my car slightly. Both my brother and I mouthed expletives and cracked massive grins – secretly wish we were on the bike but seeing someone else and living vicariously enough to feed our souls and reminds me how lucky I am to be alive – the best things in life are free (especially if you are lucky enough to live in the isle of man).