Number 2 of 50: Ely

As my home city, Ely (pronounced Eee-Lee, not Eee-Lie or Eye-Lee or Ellie) was always going to be early on in the 50. The route we ran wasn't my usual running route; it was a much more interesting one and we had lovely company in the form of excellent local friend Vicky (who is making a cracking job of RED January) and, possibly for the first time ever, our daughter Lucy joined us for a proper family run

Bright eyed and bushy tailed

Two bad things happened. First, I paused my watch when I took some photos and forgot to start it again. This, right at the start of this challenge, means I won't have a neat set of runs all in the same place recorded by the same device. It also meant I was extremely grumpy all the way round because more than I hate running I hate not knowing how long I've been running or how far.

Fortunately, Vicky was also recording the run, so I can still give you a picture of it here. Look! We went even further than 5km! Be sure I shall resent that 230 metres for a long time to come. The second bad thing is that the evening of the Ely run I went down with a horrible cold and cough that a week later I still haven't shifted. So, there you have it, running makes you ill.

The first place we headed to was Roswell Pits, now a nature reserve and a site of special scientific interest, but originally the site of gault pits - a type of clay that's used to shore up riverbanks. The lake is intersected by Kiln Lane, a hill I decided we'd run down at the start rather than up at the end (more on our Fenland hills later). There are many things to love about Roswell Pits: it's a rich source of fossils, it has some amazing wildlife and is a lovely place to walk. Obviously, when you run through it you miss all the good stuff.

The other thing about Roswell Pits is that it's the site of one of the very best views of Ely Cathedral. We were running on a rather overcast day, but if you catch it at sunrise or sunset or on a beautiful day it is absolutely breathtaking. Views like this make it easy to see why they call the Cathedral 'the Ship of the Fens'. Built at the heady heights of 26 metres above sea level - the highest point around here - you can see it for miles and miles and it's easy to imagine, before the Fens were drained, that she looked just like a ship in the middle of an ocean.

We headed towards town along the river. Ely is on the River Great Ouse, a 143 mile river that runs from Northampton and to the North Sea via the Wash at King's Lynn in Norfolk. The flood meadows either side of the river are home to a wide range of birds and animals. In fact, I spent a very happy minute or two watching a stoat prance around nearby when I walked the same route a few days later. Much of the land around Roswell Pits and the river is now looked after by an organisation called Ely Wildspace which is doing a brilliant job of protecting the area and has put up a series of information boards about the kind of wildlife you can see here.

Anyway, all too soon, we had run the river section and, having run down Kiln Lane, were faced with the hill we had to run up - Cherry Hill. Now, having failed Charfield Hill, I was determined to beat Cherry Hill. And so I bloody should. Compared to most places in the UK, the hills in Ely are really nothing more than slopes. So, I took a picture from the bottom and then grumpily and wheezily dragged myself to the top, ably assisted by Vicky and Lucy who cheered me on all the way.

The bottom of Cherry Hill

And the triumphant top

After the hill, it was straight past the cathedral. There has been a religious building on the site since the 670s and work started on the existing Ely Cathedral in the 11th century. the Octagon Tower was added after the collapse of some of the original building in the 14th century.  It had a bit of dodgy 16th and 17th centuries (Neither Henry VIII nor Oliver Cromwell that big on cathedrals & the like, I understand) but actually got through those tricky times remarkably unscathed. A couple of restorations over the next couple of hundred years, and here it now is.

The thing I love most about this building is that it has at least one, sometimes two regular peregrine falcon visitors. I can watch those beauties for hours as they soar above the towers and perch on the ledges and sills.  

And that was pretty much our 5k. We ran through the market square (which I refuse to photograph because the beautiful original marketplace has been replaced by the most revolting buildings) and there was just time to take a photo of one of our excellent local businesses - Silver Oak Coffee. Not only does Silver Oak make absolutely delicious coffee (roasted locally), they also, until she left for university, kept Lucy in gainful employment and taught her how to do latte art. Highly recommend stopping in for a coffee if you're passing through.

And that's Ely. I realise there is actually a lot more I could have said, and perhaps later in the year I'll run a completely different 5km and share that. I can't decide if that would be cheating or not. In the meantime, if you have a local 5km you think we should come and run, then please let us know. And, of course, we're doing all of this for Pilgrims Hospices to thank them for the care they gave Dad and if you have some spare cash, you can donate to our fundraising efforts here.

Let's do this! Number 1 of 50: Charfield

Before we start, let me tell you what we're doing.

In 2019, my dad, Alan, died. He had a long illness and his wish at the end of his life was to be at home with the family. We were able to fulfil that wish with the extraordinary help of Pilgrims Hospices which provided some of the most compassionate, considerate and excellent care to Dad and to the family that I've ever experienced. 

To say thank you, my three siblings (Anna, Clare & Simon) and I have decided to set ourselves challenges this year to help raise funds for their valuable work. It's our family year of fundraising.

Many of you will be aware of my history with running. A glance back through the archive of this blog will give you a flavour of just how difficult I find it. My Twitter feed is regularly splashed with #haterunning and despite several years working with an excellent running coach whose strap line was 'run happy', I have never enjoyed it one little bit. I also always run alone, preferring to be slow and lumbering and miserable by my grumpy self. It embarrasses me to run with other people. 

So, to make a challenge hard enough to be fundraisable, it has to involve running. I have already done a half marathon and, even though I did triumph over a Care Bear on that occasion, I swore I'd never do another, or do a greater distance. I'm 50 in September and so we thought perhaps a good challenge would be to run 50 different 5km routes in 50 different parts of the country. So, that's what Steve and I are going to do. We hope that friends and family will join us on some of the runs. So it's a triple challenge: the running, the logistics and, possibly the hardest bit, the company. 

I enjoyed blogging my half marathon training last time, it kept me focused enabled me to reflect and it gave me an excuse to remind people of the fundraising element of the challenge, so I thought I'd do the same thing this time. A blog about the runs, the places and the people. 

So, without further ado...

Run 1 of 50: Charfield, Gloucestershire.

New Year's Day after a night out at The Plough in Charfield (appropriate really because it was Dad's local for many years) Steve and I were joined by our old friend Sam, one of the very best people, who was at primary school with Steve and secondary school with both of us, for 5k number one.

Steve, me and Sam about to set off

43 minutes and 14 seconds 🐢🐢🐢

I have  decided, in the spirit of openness, to share all the details of the runs I do, including the terribly slow time which is only partly affected by stopping to take photos and look at views. That way, you'll see that I really do find running hard going and appreciate my effort all the more. After all, if I could nip out and knock off a 5k in 20 minutes, where would the fun be? So, here's a screenshot of my Fitbit app for this run. And I should say that both Steve and Sam ran quite a bit faster than this!

My family lived in Charfield for 19 years - it's a village in Gloucestershire on the edge of the Cotswolds. Steve lived here too and his dad still does, so we visit reasonably often. Some parts of the village date back to the 13th Century, but the majority of it is built around the railway line. The station opened here on the original Bristol and Gloucester Railway line in 1844 and the buildings on both platforms were designed by Brunel (no wonder my dad, a lover of the  railways, was drawn here). The station became a victim of Beeching in 1965 and pretty much ever since there have been unsubstantiated rumours of a great reopening.

Charfield bloody Hill. From the top so you can't really see it

As a Fen dweller, I am particularly bad at hills and have vowed to factor more proper hills into this challenge. I chose a route that took in Charfield Hill, knowing it was a beast that would defeat me (it did) but wanting a difficult start to make the rest feel better. That worked and after walking 3/4 of Charfield hill, we ran almost all the rest. Steve ran it all, eating up the hill as tho he'd never been away.

The one interesting, rather grim,  piece of Charfield history is the fatal railway disaster that happened on October 13 1928  in which 16 people died, including two children whose remains were never claimed. There is a memorial to the dead at St James' church, a beautiful old church originally built in the 13th Century with wonderful views that we ran past. 

St James's Church, Charfield

Local folklore maintains that on the anniversary of the rail crash each year a mysterious woman in a chauffeured car would come to the village in the early hours, stop on the railway bridge and then leave flowers on the grave. She was rumoured to be some kind of royal or aristocrat who couldn't claim the children because it would have created a terrible scandal...I never met anyone who has actually seen the woman, but regardless of whether she existed or not, it's a sad tale of two children that nobody felt able to claim.

View from the top of the easy hill

Down about a kilometer of very smelly farm hill and then back up on the other side to more lovely views (despite the fairly dim weather) at the top of a smaller hill that I did manage to conquer and we were soon on the home straight, back into the village. At this point, Sam's endorphins kicked in and she became unbearably cheerful. I didn't reach quite Sam's levels of singing. dancing, leaping about joy, but did have to admit it was quite fun to mess around with a good friend, even if you have to do it while running.

Charfield Primary School past pupils

There was just time before we finished to check out Charfield Primary School where Steve and Sam first met. I think they were in a school production of Aladdin together once.







So, there is it. The first of our 50 5kms. My hips hurt by the end, but I got round and ran the vast majority of it. We now have more than 20 suggestions of other runs to do and I'm actually looking forward to the next one.

Please tell us if you'd like to join us, especially if you have a favourite 5km route that we can run with you. And, if you have some spare cash, please consider supporting our fundraising efforts.

Making good citizens

Being in a new interim role in Ambition, a leading youth charity, makes it possible to look with a fresh perspective at developments in the sector, and so it's been really interesting for me to view the Queen's Speech through the new lens of my temporary home in the youth sector.

Firstly, I'm delighted to see a focus on improving the outcomes of children in care. The fact that we continually fail those young people whose lives must already, by definition, have been made more difficult is something that bewilders and saddens me. Despite the work of many local authorities, voluntary sector organisations like the brilliant Who Cares? Trust and many others in the field, the outcomes of looked after children are poorer in virtually every way you choose to measure and it is absolutely essential that we focus on their needs, rights and outcomes.

I confess, when I see that this bill includes a requirement for Local Authorities to advise young care leavers of the services they are entitled to, I am struck by just what a low base we must be working from in some places (it requires legislation to make sure that happens? Seriously?) though I recognise that it is positive that there is a statutory (and therefore funded) duty. Perhaps we all need to give more thought to the way we can meet the needs of children in care and caution against assuming the help, support and information is always coming from somewhere else.

Significant funding and ambitious targets were announced for the National Citizen's Service as well as giving it statutory status (though exactly what that will mean or what the impact of that statutory status is, I’m not fully sure and would welcome a tutorial!) Naturally, the aim to give 360,000 young people good quality experiences is brilliant and it’s great that the government is focusing on young people’s needs and is so committed to a programme of work that builds skills and resilience and encourages young people to take part in social action. I have to say, though, that I wish there was that same commitment to building these skills on a day-to-day basis in schools (*cough* statutory PSHE *cough*).

I hope this focus on NCS will mean opportunities for the huge numbers of youth workers and other professionals across the country who are working with young people day in, day out. They are building ongoing relationships delivering innovative, effective, important work and having a huge impact on young lives in really difficult circumstances. I do not fully understand the NCS model yet but I hope that the requirement to deliver the programme to many more young people comes with a commitment to support and build the sector’s workforce and engage with local youth and community groups in order that young people have the best experience it’s possible for them to have.

Some things from my old Brook world appeared ( I worked at Brook for almost 9 years), though these were not a great surprise. It seems that the government remains determined that all websites containing pornographic images should require age verification (ie proof you are over 18) before they can be accessed. I understand the desire to protect young people, but internet filtering is such a complex, expensive, often ineffective and difficult thing to do (as well as being something that young people can get round pretty straightforwardly) that I’m beginning to think it only gets mentioned because someone somewhere likes to snigger at making the Queen say pornography. I’d far sooner see legislation to help ensure all young people develop the confidence, critical thinking and self-esteem to build healthy happy relationships and recognise porn for what it is and, crucially, what it is not (ie real life). 

Talking of education, I see we’re going to continue to tinker with the governance of schools whilst running a country mile from any genuine commitment to improving young people’s experience of school, which is a shame and an almost identical model to the obsessive, ideological fiddling with the health system at the expense of patients that Andrew Lansley was so delighted to preside over. I’m a school governor and I see first-hand the impact of these policies. I know how hard teachers and other school teams are working to make sure young people don’t miss out – it’s an inspiration, particularly given how much more difficult it is made by the policy environment. 

What do I wish had been in the Queen’s Speech? Well, the most obvious is votes for 16 and 17 year olds. If our flagship youth programme is really a National Citizens Service, surely a central part of being a citizen is the right to take part in democratic processes (and not just if you happen to be Scottish). I have never heard an argument to restrict the vote to 18+ that makes any sense and I don’t like the implication (or perhaps it is just my inference) that young people can’t be trusted somehow. If you agree with me, you can join the Votes at 16 campaign chaired by the British Youth Council and if you’re young and want to make change, you should look at the Bite The Ballot campaign that Ambition supported when it launched last year.

So, an interesting speech and fascinating for me to look at it through fresh eyes. Like I said, I’m new here and if I have said something you disagree with, have misunderstood something or have got something totally wrong, feel free to get in touch and put me right – you can do that in the comments or email me at jules@ambition.org where you can also tell me if you think I'm spot on! I’m on a journey in the youth sector and I’d love to hear from you.

 

 

 

Endless bloody hugs (21-30)

Ok, I am bored of this now! However, the good news is that I have done my full 50 hugs within the 30 days required. No more bloody hugs! However, as it takes longer to write the buggers up than to give/recieve them, I'll carry on blogging them in batches of 10 for a couple more weeks. That means there's still time for you to sponsor my hugging and walking if you like on my Just Giving Page. 

Inicdentally, I have also completed my walking challenge. I walked 100km of the Thames Path in 23.5 hours. Never pushed myself so bloody hard. I even gave someone a free hug. Clearly I was not in my right mind.  

Anyway, back to the hugs. Back to the tedious process of trying every day to judge whether there's anyone around I am remotely comfortable asking for a hug. But the end was in sight by now and I'd passed the halfway point and could see light at the end of the tunnel. Here are the next ten hugs. 

Hug #21: The Teacher

I've decided to tick off some professionals and here's a huggy teacher. Well, she's all sorts of things really, pro-choice campaigner, pet-feeder, problem solver, mother, singer, wife and friend among other things. Didn't mind *too much* hugging her. I have probably done it before, I confess.

Hug #22: The Old School Friend

This made me wonder if I used to be huggy at school and have lost the knack. My 13 year old hugs her friends endlessly but I don't remember doing that. Anyway, you won't be surprised to know this was the first person to check themselves in the photo in case another take was required. <cough> vain <cough> to use a subtle old school technique. 

Hug #23: The Former Boss

And this one made me wonder if all workplaces are as huggy as Brook. I don't think they are. I don't think this one was anyway. Except when we dealt with agencies. People in agencies are always so damn huggy. Still, that's now 2 bosses I have hugged. Which means I don't need to worry about 'hug your boss day' for 2 years.

Hug #24: Teenage Boy 1

I'll be frank, I was expecting a flat refusal so was surprised when he obliged. Another one of those dreadful young people we hear so much about in the media yet he appears to be funny, polite, interesting and intelligent. Honestly, I am beginning to think the Daily Mail might not always be fully factual. 

Hug #25: The Exex Team 1

What would a Brook Executive Team be without a few huggers? Operations here, demonstrating her grasp of the operational aspects of hugging - high quality, cost effective, user-focussed delivery.

Hug #26: The Exec Team 2

Ah, Corporate Services. Making sure hugging is booked several months in advance so as to benefit from discounted prices, doesn't to anything to damage the relationship between the individual and the organisation and is carried out under strict health and safety conditions. 

Hug #27: The Exex Team 3

Yeah, she's hugging but mostly she's wondering if this huggathon is the kind of innovative product that we could scale up and sell to commissioners. She's wondering if I've done enough data collection to demonstrate impact effectively and if I could do a train the trainer season and a marketing flyer. 

Hug #28: The Choir Director

Essentially, undoing all the benefit of the wonderful relaxing, uplifiting singing she helps me do by making me hug. I wonder if she was trying to squeeze those top notes out of my increasingly creaky soprano voice. I should be careful what I say - she'll instigate hugging as good diaphragmatic exercise and I'll never be able to sing again. 

Hug #29: The therapist

Oh yeah, chock full of compassion and empathy and insight into people's needs and feelings and still one of this who took real delight in a big old bearhug. I reckon she thinks it's healing or some such tosh. 

Hug #30: Teenage Boy 2

I know! Another one. Another polite, friendly, cheerful, charming teenage boy agreeing to add to my tally. This one had played a game of cricket and hadn't broken any fingers for a whole game so he was pretty chirpy. 

So that was 21-30. Just another 20 to go, and I was fast running out if friends and family to approach. How did I cope with hugging strangers...? Tune in next time to find out, folks. #cliffhanger

Ten more bloody hugs

So, another week, another selection of awkward clumsy embraces with no discernible human value beyond some good old hard cash for Brook (hurrah). Incidentally, I also did a 50km training walk that took 11 hours and I was much more satisfied with that progress than I was the other. But apparently this tedious hugging is what's interesting to people.  Go figure.

So, who were the next 10 touchy-feelies...? Read on and find out. 

Hug #11: The Teenager

I don't know what is more embarrassing, having a friend's mum offer you a hug or being the person whose mum asks your friend for a hug whilst giving an explanation that includes a talk on consent and boundaries ("Mum, shut up we know this stuff") but either way there was some squirming in our house that day. Tho the hug itself was happily given by one of my favourite and oldest of my daughter's friends.

Hug #12: The Sports No 1

Ahhh, the Sports. Brook's good friends and neighbours, the Women's Sport & Fitness Foundation have one or two members who would win gold medals in hugging. They were on it the minute they heard about the challenge. I bet they all love running too, the huggy, sporty poppets. 

Hug #13: The black metal feminist

  
Yes, apparently black metal and hugging are not mutually exclusive and anyone who imagined they might be is guilty of serious book-by-cover judging. This is also one of the few members of my team prepared to hug me. I don't care to consider why that might be. 

hug #14 The Sports No 2

Another sporty hugger. This one is such a high level hugger (Olympic standard) that we had to have two - one with the photo proof and one that was apparently the "real" one. I am aggrieved that it only counts once because the second one was proper beary and I think I should get extra points for closeness and length. 

Hug #15 The Scot

Am I (an eighth Scottish myself) doing my bit to be stronger together for the No campaign or embracing the go-it-alone spirit of the Yessers? Sadly you will never know. As such a significant public figure in this debate I think it's best to stay out of it and let people make up their own minds. #copout

Hug #16 The next door neighbour

Bit late, bit dark, one or two drinks inside us after a very pleasant hour or two in the pub. Hug thy neighbour is now hanging on a twee plaque on my desk, right next to the sign that says "You don't have to be mad to work here, but it helps!!!".

Hug #17 The Northern Irelander

Continuing my hug across nations theme, we look across the water to Belfast and another non-hugger. See how we both tense uncomfortably, but persevere for the good of young people's sexual health? The money raised from this hug will particularly fuel the fight to win women in Northern Ireland the same bloody reproductive rights we enjoy everywhere else in the UK.

Hug #18 the happy colleague

See how these people take such glee in my discomfort? These people are such happy huggers they have been watching and waiting for the opportunity to pounce! This one was amongst the first to volunteer a hug and was very happy with it too. Perhaps I'm just really bloody good at hugging. 

Hug #19 The GCSE results 

Ah, another lovely person and a hug I would have given willingly without a fee attached because the clever little monkey's gone and got herself an 'ology and a handful of other GCSEs. A nice reminder that it's the young people starting their journey to adulthood that Brook is here for and it's worth a few hugs to help pay for that important work.  

Hug #20 the captain of industry

Oh, yes, a very important and well connected business man who took time out of his busy day to hug me, after which we say down and looked at his pictures from Disneyland where he met Tigger, Pooh and Snow White. Honestly, no wonder the bloody country is going to the dogs if all the serious business types are a bunch of sodding huggers. 

So, that's the next 10. I am actually on 31 now (with one particularly special one in a uniform - you will have to wait for the next instalment to find out more about that one) and I'm not sure whether it's going to be harder to walk 100km non-stop or find another 19 people to hug in the next 10 days, but either way, if you feel generous, please do consider sponsoring me to help all the brilliant work for young people that Brook does. www.justgiving.com/Jules100k

Cheers and hugs all round!

The first ten hugs

So, you know the story - I, famously a "cold fish" and not a fan of hugs in any circumstances but *especially* not in the workplace, have been set a challenge by my hugger colleagues to have 50 mutually consenting hugs in 30 days. In return, these colleagues have sponsored me - as can you, if you feel so inclined. All the money I raise will help Brook work with young people on really important issues like...well, like consent and boundaries. 

I agreed to report back on my experience through this blog and post the pictures of the people I hugged. These pictures are taken by the person themselves on my phone as an indication of mutual trust and consent. 

Hug #1: The Boss

If you're gonna hug your colleagues, might as well start at the top. Might as well also start with the person who has so far sponsored the greatest amount (£2 per hug with a bonus if I get any "special" ones). 

Hug #2 The GiveHerAnInchSheTakesAYard Friend

This was actually the second attempt because she stuck her tongue in my ear the first time, something definitely non-consensual. She still snuck a kiss this time. Bloody actressy types. 

Hug #3 The Runner

I'm very pleased that I now have challenge as significant as running 50 km which is what this woman is doing for the cash. You can chuck some on her pile, too, if that's your bag. 

Hug #4 The Queen of Hugs

Started twitching in anticipation as soon as she realised a hug was on the cards. Loves hugs. Sees them as the answer to all of life's problems. She's wrong, of course, but very nice all the same

Hug #5 The Brook Checklister

After careful checking of the position vis a vis consent, wanted to know how I was going to "demonstrate the outcomes" of my challenge (answer: cold hard cash thanks very much). Brook first for this one, every time. 

Hug #6 The Fellow Non-hugger

Learned my first lesson here: if you're a non-hugger, hug another non-hugger. Respectful, kind, gentle, friendly and none of the triumphalism of the touchy-feelies. My favourite so far. 

Hug #7 The Stranger

Stranger to me, anyway. Apparently everyone else in the office knows him because he works at the pub at the end of the road. I double-checked consent several times because it was a bit bloody weird. 

Hug #8 The Husband

At one point, it was suggested that people I'm married to wouldn't count. This was soon dismissed by my husband, saying "Tell them I've been married to you for 17 years and this is the first hug you've initiated. It definitely counts."

Hug #9 The Daughter

Ahhhh, I confess this is not our first time. Though from the day she could talk we agreed to ask first if we wanted hugs. She's 13 now and asks every day and I say yes. Unless Bake-off is on. Or West Wing on DVD. Or I'm reading the paper. 

Hug #10 The Sweaty, Huggy, Friend

"Fresh" from a Zumba class and delighted by the idea of a reciprocal hug tho apologetic about the gentle glowing she was doing. Not the first person to say, with a blink, "I must have hugged you loads of times when you didn't much want me to."

So there we have it, my first ten hugs. I have a feeling finding huggers for the first half of this challenge is going to be easier than the second. Several people have set me extra targets - a policeman is top of the list (we had quite a chat about whether a policeman would agree to be hugged).

All the huggers have a glint in their eye when they lean in for their hug. I can tell they all want to bring me into their tribe. They all want theirs to be the one that opens my eyes and heart to the power of the hug. Bless them, it's their optimism that makes them so cute even as they bear down on you with their big fuzzy open arms. 

Diary of a non-hugger

Oh good grief, what have I done?

You remember before, when I ran and ran and fucking ran and it was shit and I never enjoyed it, and it was painful and awful, but I did it?

Yeah, well this time is worse. Properly. This time is harder.

You may know that I’m in training at the moment to walk 100km in 24 hours. I’ve been training really hard and, since Steve ruptured his Achilles, I’ve been training by myself to get fit enough to achieve this really difficult challenge.

And, you know what? The training is working. I have worked really hard. Not just the hours of walking, but I’ve been running and swimming to make sure I can do it. And I think I can. And other people think I can. It’s brilliant. 

But I got a bit cocky. I was too happy. I was enjoying my training too much. I was “chirpy” at the end of a 28km through-the-night training walk. People started to think I was having too much fun and that the challenge wasn’t sufficient.

And one evening, after a Brook management team meeting, some of the nicest, kindest people I work with decided I needed a “proper” challenge. And they decided to offer me cash if I would face my biggest fears. Oh my word, the irony of these people.

I don’t need to name them. They know who they are. They’re reading this and they don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Well, cry ladies and gentleman. Cry.

They are making me hug people.

Yes, you read it right. Some of the best people I know. Women and men who have dedicated their lives to making sure that young people have the information and support they need to develop healthy relationships, who would lie down in front of a tank if they thought it meant they could improve young people’s capacity to consent, think I need fixing because I don’t like hugging people.

They know this because, 4 years ago, I wrote a speech for a Brook event. And I said this…

“It’s a truth, universally acknowledged, that I don’t do hugging at work. I’m told I’m not touchy-feely. It has been pointed out to me on several occasions that I lack some of the emotional sensitivity or the personal warmth that many of my colleagues are blessed with. I do not tend to wear my heart on my sleeve. 

And yet in the last couple of weeks, I have been reduced to tears 3 times as a result of my work.

When volunteer cohort 2 finished their placement with us, we had a little tea party to say goodbye to them. One of them in particular had a wonderful journey with us. She blossomed before our very eyes, changing from a slightly awkward, shy young woman, not really at home with herself, into a brave, confident and happy young woman grabbing life’s opportunities with both hands. As I listened to her, and her mentor, talk about her experience, I was unable to stop tears of pleasure, not to mention some pride at being involved with the organisation that had partly enabled her transformation. 

Only a few days later, I had to read the report of a very difficult call that the Ask Brook workers had taken. It was a sad, disturbing and violent situation which made me both deeply unhappy and absolutely furious. My tears then were of frustration, anger and fear at how many young people there might be out there in terrible situations who don’t have this young woman’s courage or don’t know how to call someone and ask for help.

And then, yesterday (and she has given me permission to tell you this), my 9 year old daughter asked me, after listening to the news, what rape was. So we talked about that, and we discussed, in a way she was able to grasp, how important consent is, and how sex is something good, and that to use it to hurt or frighten people is a terrible crime. And afterwards I felt a bit wobbly and teary. And I thought about all the children who are being denied the kind of frank and vital information and conversations that I believe no child should miss out on.”

I think you’ll agree there is some moving stuff in that speech. Some insight into why I believe so fiercely in what Brook does. That’s not what my colleagues heard, though. Oh no. For them, the key point of that speech was that I’m not a hugger. I’m some strange cold fish, they think, and they worry about me and wonder about my heart and whether it works properly.

And so yesterday, these huggers, these strange, touchy-feely individuals laid down the gauntlet. If I find 50 people in the next month and I obtain a hug from them, and the person I hug takes a picture to prove it, they will give me a ton of cash for Brook.

I’ve accepted the challenge. I am going to find 50 people in the next 30 days who will agree (by mutual consent) to hug me. I will give them my phone and they will take a photo of us hugging to prove that we are both happy about it and I will post the photo here, along with some insight into the hug.

I mulled this over while I was swimming this morning (training for the other, easier, bit of my challenge) and I wondered whether it is actually possible for me to be giving free consent to these hugs or whether I am being coerced or pressured into it because of the opportunity to raise funds for Brook. That made me realise what a genius idea it actually is. Because with every hug I get, I will be thinking carefully about consent. I will be consciously checking that I want to hug and I will make sure that the person I’m asking is able to say no without feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable. I will be doing that because so many young people don’t have the luxury of informed, enthusiastic, mutual consent in their relationships and I believe one of the most important things we can do for them is educate ourselves and other people about how vital consent is to helping young people have happy healthy lives.

So I promise that every hug I have will be freely consented to by me and by the person I’m hugging. If you see me over the next 30 days and you would like to hug me, please say so. If you don’t want a hug, don’t worry about it and if you think it’s a good fundraising idea (in addition to the little matter of a 100km walk) please do make a donation here.

Who knows, maybe, just maybe, after 50 hugs, I’ll begin to understand what the fuss is all about. But I doubt it.