What is the world like when you look sketchy AF? (light hearted)

First impressions

How do you feel when you walk around the city you live in? Over 90% of us in the UK do, and that means that everyday you have to (gahhhhh) talk to people. Or at least interact with them in a semi sane manner in order to achieve whatever you happen to be walking around in order to do. Now, we all know that first impressions greatly influence other’s opinions of your, and that leads into the way that they treat you. Apparently, this happens within 3 seconds of someone meeting you, and is hard to break once they’ve made their decision. And unless you literally walked up to them swearing madly, or dragged yourself across the floor to them courtesy of your whisky legs, this decision is almost always subconscious. Which is exactly why that impression is so hard to break.

I am going somewhere with this, I promise. And contrary to what you may think, it won’t be an empowering and uplifting series of tips to improve your social standing. This is about what life is like when the first impression you give on the street is always “I’llllll just cross the road”. This is largely perpetuated by my typical coat always having a massive murdery black hood (can a hood be murdery? I’m gonna come back to that.), a resting bitch face and a sharp intolerance for the walking speed of tourists. Accordingly, this impression propagates some hilarious interactions that I am pretty sure I wouldn’t get if I walked about in a flower dress or a Gucci power suit. Below are some of these…

A few years ago, I was walking around in a shop in Camden, and I couldn’t help but notice that the shop attendant had left the main front desk and was not so subtly sidling after me around the shop. I realized my hood was still up (it was a cold day), and took it down so as to relax the attendant. I mean, how many robbers or shoplifters voluntarily remove an aspect of their clothing that would partially obscure their identity? I actually don’t think they’ve done a study on that. This guy wasn’t having it though. He kept on right behind me, to the exclusion of the shop front where multiple people could have strode out with their shopping and were instead impatiently toe tapping at the front desk in an expanding queue. He got so close, that once I backtracked slightly to take a second look at something that caught my eye, and he honestly had to leap backwards so that I didn’t step on him. Eventually, exasperated, I turned to him and said:

“Look, I’m just trying to browse. Do I look like a shoplifter or something??”

He didn’t miss a beat, and without dropping his gaze, he said:

“Yeah, you do, actually”.

!!! Well, what could I do? I harrumphed a bit, and then stomped out onto the street.

Since then, I have had to just put up with being on the radar of security guards and shop attendants, despite NEVER STEALING A GODDAMN THING IN MY LIFE. But it isn’t just in shops that people make assumptions about your character.

I remember once finishing the last of a seven-day series of ten-hour night shifts, facing the truly terrible prospect of readjusting my body clock back the time normal people function. I decided, in my lunacy, to walk to my nearest main town in order to give myself more exposure to the daylight that should reconfigure my circadian rhythms as well as a low intellect activity (window shopping) to try and stimulate my (by then atrophying) brain. The walk was about half an hour, and all on pavement with a few crossings. I became lulled into the dull cadence of putting one foot in front of another, staring at my feet and trying not to microsleep. I came to a crossing that was green for me, and started to cross. Then ZZZOOOOOM! I dodged back, and only just avoided being run over by this car by a fraction of a hair.

“Hey!” I bellowed, shocked out of my stupor. “It was green for me!!!”

This guy screeched to a stop, leaned out of his window, and yelled:

“Look at you! You’re smacked out of your head!” Fucking junkie!!” Then span his wheels angrily and zoomed off. Leaving me standing in the street, really confused, like:

“Maybe I look more tired than I thought" 0.o

The second part of my terrible first impression record is the assumption that I’m being rude, angry, giving attitude or talking down to people. Here are a few misunderstandings that I’ve had:

-       Telling a customer that I didn’t have the report she needed just yet, but I would be happy to chase it up for her and call her back. Being told I need to check my attitude. I…huh?

-       Running back to a café where I had accidentally left my water bottle, told it had been chucked, fleeting sadface resulting in massive diatribe about it not being their fault. Ok, fine?

-       Being called a ‘robot’ by an old colleague after I asked her for an item I needed for my job that she was in a position to provide (it was definitely meant as an insult, but I’m claiming it as positive).

Now, I’m aware that at the core of it, the common denominator in all of these situations is me. I have a stereotypical Chav style outwards appearance I guess, and am rarely bothered about dressing up for the streets. Having shaved my head recently, my appearance veers even more in that direction, although I suppose it falls within the more traditionally masculine iteration of that social class.

But that shouldn’t matter. Should it? I dress up for interviews and special occasions. I attend work and university to schedule. I pay bills. I spend my extra money on travel instead of clothes. I do almost everything that most people who consider themselves productive citizens would do. Except support the idea that I need to look a certain way in order to be respectable. (spoiler: I don’t even look that alt, except for my shaved head.)

But sometimes I wonder, should I simply conform to gain that initial first impression interaction bonus? That person whose heads snaps up to talk to me, and not because they think I’m going to nick their crappy £20 cotton trousers?

Nahhh, fuck it. I think I’m going to stay myself. At least I get more funny stories that way.

Flatt7 (bleep bloop bleep bloop)

Ps. From Googling, I don’t think murdery hoods are a thing. But they should be. They sound cool.

Focusing back on the world

Experience with St John Ambulance

So, many of you who read me semi regularly (or know me in person) might know that I’ve achieved the dream I’ve been working towards for many years – to start my studies on the road to becoming a paramedic. I’ve made arrangements so that I can support myself financially, I’ve upgraded my mathematics qualification to the required level, I applied and interviewed…and I was accepted. I CAN’T believe it. My head stills reels every time I step into a classroom in my university as an accepted student there. I have had the opportunity to learn so much in just three short months, and have even been out on non-emergency placements. My next big dream, of course, is to pass this course, learn all I can, achieve the next step of qualifying as a paramedic. That’s my main focus.

Nature

But, another focus is coming into view for me as well. As I approach the beginning of another year of learning, I realise that I miss something I had often enough that I forgot to appreciate it. The freedom to travel. To see the world, to feel cold snow on my face at a thousand plus metres, the thrill of footsteps in a place I have never walked before, a language I have never heard spoken, friends laughing and exploring with me. I realise how much of this past year I have, out of necessity, spent in the city environment. My runs in as deep a wood as you can find in this city were almost entirely my wilderness escapes that kept me feeling sane and free. But I miss the bigger part of travel and exploring the world.

A hike in Skye

This past month I have dug up a lot of my old travel and adventure videos and put them up on my largely defunct YouTube account. I have even made a couple of vlogs reminiscing on old times of travel, a process which I find both enjoyable and cathartic even if nobody else finds them interesting. And it’s inspired me! I want to feel that mental freedom again. Build up my strength, experience, knowledge and see the world before it’s too late to see it in the way I want to. I want to see it whilst I’m out of my comfort zone and pushing myself forward. I’ve made plans and reservations, and I’m beyond excited!

Wanderlust

I’m going to do it.

Flatt7

Tips for learning a new topic!

Disclaimer: These are tips that have helped ME, and that's why i'm sharing them. It doesn't mean i'm looking down on anyone who learns differently. It would be super interesting to hear other's methods and rationales behind them!


1. BE AN 'EMPTY CUP'
Forget everything you think you know. Don't try to uniformly apply it to the new but loosely related topic. If it turns out something you knew was also accepted as verified within your new topic, consider it a stroke of luck.


2. ACTIVELY LISTEN
The teacher may be talking to dozens of people, but they still need signs of learner engagement to motivate their lesson. Make eye contact, respond to questions, keep your body language alert. In pauses, think back on the information just received and try to cement it in your mind. You will not learn slumped over your desk with a monotone washing in and out of your ears.

3. STAY ON TOPIC
Distractions definitely reduce the amount of information that sticks in your mind. Put your Facebook away (this applies to assorted social media). How much do you really need to stare at that funny cat video or see if you're the genius 5% of the population that can solve this Maths problem? I'd wager not that much. Certainly not as much as you needed to know the ECG lead placement that you just missed. I would include text messaging and even non related chat in class as distractions.

4. KEEP YOUR NOTES SHORTHAND
Writing everything 'verbatim' will take ages, make your hand hurt and ensure you're concentrating more on letter shapes and when the slide will change than the actual information. Make quick notes with the main points, then spend the rest of the time listening and (gasp!) learning.

5. RECOGNISE 'BRAIN DROP'
Sometimes you're all up for learning, and  poised pen in hand and eager. Then 20 minutes in, you can't seem to control your shoulders slumping and eyes glazing over. This can be caused by so many things, from poor teacher presentation or engagement with students, to personal fatigue to the heat of the room or something else. But it is important to realise you need a break. Take yourself out of the room for 2-3 minutes. Go to the loo or simply stand in the fresh air (out of classroom view!). Resolve yourself to recommit when you step back in.

6. REVISIT WHAT YOU'VE LEARNT
A good wisdom to follow is to review information 1, 3 and 7 days after you first learned it. This can take the form of note reading, self testing or further study. But make sure you do this, or that knowledge will fall straight back out of your brain. It also helps if you try to combine this with reviews of how you can or will apply the knowledge, as knowledge without context is the most likely to slip away.

Let me know in the comments if there is anything I missed, and happy learning!

Jen x

Back 2 The Trenches OCR race review

The obligatory awkward running shot

Yesterday, after a break in which I was exploring various other hobbies including climbing, caving and studying my arse off for exams, I took up the OCR mantle once again! The lucky pick was the 'Back 2 The Trenches' race which, despite its dubious use of numbers in the place of perfectly good words, seemed affordable, exciting and well organised. So I took the plunge and booked!

One of the other main reasons I was interested in this race was that it was marketed at the 'softer' end of the obstacle course race, i.e. less twenty foot jumps and buckets of ice, and more mud pits and woodland hills! There is of course a place for all levels of OCRing in the market, and I personally like different levels at different times. Today was a fun day!

When I arrived there, straight away the parking was very organised, with at least three marshals immediately giving instructions to all the cars. The event village itself was really small and a very nice atmosphere. Everyone was happy to chat to others, and as always with these events there were dogs and children aplenty milling about. The food stalls were limited to one burger stall and one standalone drinks cart. Despite the limited options there, I didn't really see any queues, probably because it was such a small event.

I was a little worried regarding my wave time as it seemed mixed up and I wasn't sure if I was running at 10am or 11am, but they let me go off at 10.40 anyway with no problem once I chatted to the organisers. The warm up was led by a slightly aging but game bloke in army uniform, and included enough dynamic movement that I was sweating and ready to go by the end of it! He also had the unenviable job of attempting to crowd control the runners into the race area, achieved by lining up about ten people at a time in a ditch and then releasing them once the previous wave had cleared the first obstacle.

Scaling the wall

Ahh yes, the obstacles. That's what you really came here for, isn't it? Well, there were about fifty six of them on the twelve kilometre course. These incorporated a nice variety. The mud and muddy water pits were prevalent, and a cool thing was that the marshals had no problem getting muddy helping up runners who were struggling or on the very slippery pits. There was also quite a big focus on object movement around the course, which is normally only relegated to one obstacle on many races. These included tyre carries, tyre drags (I always picked the heavier tyre because it made me pretty sad that they were automatically giving tiny 'girl-tyres' to women) and a sandbag carry.

There were multiple back slanted boards to cross, as well as the easier ladder types. A lot of these obstacles relied on teamwork between runners, and to this end I helped a few people and also got boosts on some of the taller boards that may have been tricky on my own. Thanks to the people that helped me with these! Later in the race there were rows of covered hay bales to cross, which I absolutely loved as you can sort of fling your body at them in abandon without worrying too much about injury. Also, plenty of tunnels, net and tarpaulin crawls and ducking in and around logs and tree roots featured! This is one of the good things about being quite a wee girl running amongst some beefier people. The obstacles designed to allow them to squeeeeeze through are a quick slip through for me!

I cannot even explain this picture 0.o

One of the most entertaining obstacles was the long hill slide. Basically, they put a long piece of smooth tarpaulin right down over the hill, cover it in water and washing up liquid and you slide down! When I first came up to this obstacle the queue was ridiculously long, I think just to some mismanagement (the person running it was waiting until once person was right down the hill before letting others go), but soon afterwards a new marshal began running it who got several people going down it one after another and the queue shortened significantly. I could see they had chosen the spot really well, and there was only smooth mud with no rocks (a problem I had encountered on one of these slides before), so I wasn't really frightened to slide. There was also a shorter slide into water a little while later. I really enjoyed the gymnast rings obstacle as well, and really surprised myself by getting across with no struggle or drop! The other obstacle of note was the slack line you had to cross, which I managed to do by hanging underneath it and monkeying across it. Honestly, so much of movement which is now natural to my body owes its origins to the awesome Parkour Generations who I trained with for a couple of years. Although I didn't continue to train with them due to cost and time constraints, they were the first group to actually teach me body movement, and a lot of it has stuck with me!

Getting a boost

In between obstacles, there was plenty of running to be had, through trails, hills, fields, woodland and in and around the event village. Enough so that I was having to intersperse optimistic hill sprinting with less ambitious walking sessions. At one point, I didn't realise a person behind me was using me as a pacer during a woodland section, and when I finally stopped he was like “awww, you had a good pace there”. Sorry!

My final dash to the finish line after just over two hours was triumphant as I bounced over the last hay bale and sprinted to the end, and finally got proof of my achievement – my medal!

So, although there were many good points about this race, there is a few points that I would mention. You need distance markers to help motivate runners, as well as making sure that marshals are clear as to the stage of their race the obstacle they're managing is in. I think the event village atmosphere would be enhanced by some music and commentating on runners as they finish. Like I mentioned, the management of the water slide obstacle could have been better, but this was modified even whilst I was there.

On the plus side, I thought there was almost no queuing on the rest of the course, water stops were well spaced, marshals were friendly and helpful and there was access to post race snacks immediately!

I would definitely run one of these races again, especially for a fun day combining mud, sun and sweat! And it looks like we only have three months to wait until the next one! Bring it on.

Flatt7

Medal time at the finish line!

My fears on my own social responsibility

It's impossible to ignore. The terrorist attacks, bold and unrepentant. The gang deaths. The day to day danger of inhabiting a city. Fighting, threats, a sense of danger that we can surely no longer gloss over.

We  should be looking out for each other, protecting our communities, sheltering the vulnerable. Even away from the extremes of recent events, suffering should not be a currency of abundance. I write these words with so much hope for what the bravery and resourcefulness of humanity can be. I see police, paramedics and others charged with the city's safety, and it's beyond amazing how selfless they are. 

Then I look at myself, and I fear that, though my soul be damned, I would (as would most) hastily step past. I would pray to be unmolested, unseen in the shadows, and allowed to continue my life without the same foul trauma I witnessed befalling me.

I would see the marks of abuse and I would move my eyes to another smooth patch of skin. I would hear the pitiful cries of a hound kept under the baking sun, with no water,  and I would make excuses for the beast's owner. I would watch a thief slip their hand into a purse like a silent snake, and I would freeze and stare and wonder what to do. I would see murder, mugging, rape and all things unconscionable, yet my arms would remain limp and my tongue still.

In the light, amongst the laughter of friends, I would boast of my bravery. As they would of theirs. And we would gift each other false echoes of our virtuosity, each understanding our true stance, but shying from voicing those truths in case a higher power discovers our wickedness. 

And whilst we relate falsehoods, those we claim to be willing to protect sink further into despair, unaware that anyone even noticed their plight at all.

All I can do is try to be better.

Flatt7

Why I'm not ashamed to be proud of my life

At the peak!

I'm proud of my life so far. Yes, I said it. I'm proud of it.

The learning, the pursuits, my friends, dedication to ideas and ideals. No more subscribing to the false modesty that society has foisted upon each individual, naming you as a braggart and a fool if you dare to feel satisfied with your accomplishments. I want to show my appreciation for what I have experienced and also battled, both alone and with companionship. For those in other spheres of the earth, who barely have enough to take care of their families, the eternal lamenting of those who live a comfortable life with a guaranteed future must jar. So I'm going a different way.

Stitching up a wound

In the year 2008 I began working with the RSPCA, a charity that undertakes multiple supportive actions towards animal care in the UK. They investigate (and prosecute, if necessary) cases of animal cruelty and neglect, rescue wild animals, provide subsidized treatment to pets with owners unable to afford private practice veterinary care and run re-homing programmes for domestic animals such as cats and dogs that have found themselves without an owner. I was so excited to be able to work for them. An amazing organization, struggling with funding, doing its best. I worked in one of their hospitals for many years, eventually training as a veterinary nurse under their training programme. I will always be grateful for the sheer amount of front line experience I gained with them, working in a high stress environment. Every shift in a hospital with approximately 100 animals, 30+ procedures a day, running around the clock. The people in the hospitals have so much more experience than you could imagine, simply due to the amount of work happening within the hospital. That does not touch on the other work that the RSPCA undertakes, but it is the side that I have personal experience of. And something I am so, so proud to have been a part of.

Out in the mountains

In the year 2012, I thought back on my free time, then mostly occupied by hour after hour of films and games. I realized, I barely remembered a moment of it. The screams and shots and blood, so much coding or corn syrup, depending on the medium. It all blurred into one and my life felt like it could slip away so easily like that. I decided at that point to embrace the outdoors. And I began running. I had dabbled here and there with some other pursuits, but I was still barely able to run up stairs. Unable to do one push up. Moulded by hours of sitting, one hand gripped onto a hobnob, the other a controller, I finally realized how weak my body was becoming.

I went out to Hampstead Heath with a good friend of mine to try my first stint at running. To say that I was terrible is a definite understatement. With her cries of encouragement ringing in my ears, I stop-started for about an hour, sweat dripping and one eye on the wobbly horizon I was fairly sure I would never reach. This friend was patient and kind and a little bossy – exactly what I needed at that moment. And even though I ended the session hobbling after my bad form eventually took its toll, the running bug had bitten me! And even more exciting, the outdoor bug in general.

Meeting the locals in Wales

So here's something you may not know about me. I am a terrible flake. I bounce from place to place, activity to activity, trying to see and do it all. When I looked at the possibilities that lay out there for those with more physical capacity, I'm fairly sure the gold piles reflected visibly in both my eyes. Sun dappled forests covered in bluebells. Wild and windy mountain climbs. Beautiful lakes stretching away from me, their inviting surface hiding the freezing waters underneath. Warm fires and food, looking out over another unique town, friends by my side. All these things and so, so much more I have experienced. And I experienced it all simply by realizing that it was out there. That the cities are only our little tents in the corner of the garden, near our house of safety. And the farther you wander from your house and your tent, the more spectacular you realize the world can be.

The friends I've made, often those who themselves revel in travel and exploration, came on many of these journeys with me. Traveling in a team, offsetting each others weaknesses and protecting each other. Never leaving anyone. In a heartbeat, you will also need the hand up – and you know they will be there for you then.

I've tried my hand at many things, and yes I am most definitely a master at none. But I want to be the person you know will say 'Let's do it!' when you propose your idea. I want to suspend my caution, and jump into the depths of life. So far I've tried running, climbing, caving, trekking, ice climbing, open water diving, Krav Maga, parkour, acroyoga, slacklining, wing walking on a plane and more. Yes I've almost died more than once. Usually due to my own stupidity when trekking on dangerous paths. But I don't want to die in my sleep. I want to die awake, in the natural world, whilst I'm trying to live. To my friends I'd say 'Remember that if I die before you die'.

Intubation practice

However, this grasping of life, spinning yourself into a place of sweat and struggle, fear and wonder, only soothes your own soul. It is seductive, and primal, something I will never give up. But there is more happening in the world than that. Others, suffering, war, famine, terrorism. After a while I realized that I did nothing towards that. I strode past others with no regard, high on my day, and forgot them in a microsecond. At that point I knew that I needed to do something else, something to help the human world, to be part of it. On that day a spark began smouldering; a tiny little idea. 'What if I became a paramedic?'. They are often the first people to arrive to help in an emergency situation. They have helped me in the past, as they have with most city dwellers. I can't think of many professions that are so involved with the worst conditions of humanity, drug addiction, pain and fear, injury, aggression, death. And by standing amongst the lowest points and helping to alleviate that, I could actually make a difference to others.

This year I have taken the plunge. I have applied and been accepted to University, I am working hard to pass an entry qualification I need to attain (please wish me luck!). I have gained experience within St John Ambulance, acting as a first aider to those who need medical assistance. I have sat in a nursing home with ladies and gents as frail as windblown cloth, talking and helping them eat and painting nails. I still have steps to take and exams to pass and experience to gain before I can make this a reality. Because I won't give up.

And that's what I'm most proud of.

Flatt7