Fab’s Friday Field Notes (Saturday Edition)
These notes are a day late. Yesterday was full — ride, work, climbing, family, friends. In that order. Mostly.
Sometimes the best thing you can do is let the week breathe before you write about it.
Friday morning. Winchester. December sun pretending it’s April. Craig and I on the trails near the start of the South Downs Way — you’ll see a lot of us there in the coming months. Maybe all the way to Meon, which Craig reminded me I haven’t ridden in far too long. Consider that a public commitment.
Somewhere between climbs, I discovered Craig’s birthday falls on the same day as two of my closest friends. Three people I trust, born on the same date. The universe winks when you’re paying attention.
We planned. We dreamed. The kind of conversation that only happens when your legs are turning and nobody’s watching a clock. Ideas that feel too big until someone nods and adds to them instead of subtracting.
That’s what good partnership looks like: addition, not audit.
After the ride, I worked with one of my clients. Not all clients are equal — I don’t mean that unkindly, it’s just true. Some you advise. Some you build with. This one, I see the results we can create together. That clarity is a gift.
Then climbing. My neck is still a mess — I didn’t push hard, couldn’t push hard. But I went anyway because some things matter more than performance. My daughter Amelie was there, moving up the wall with more confidence every session. Watching her climb better and better, knowing I’m part of that journey even when my own body is saying not today — that’s the stuff.
Recovery isn’t waiting. It’s showing up, gently.
One more thing, since we’re near Christmas and I’m feeling generous with my thinking:
I’ve been noticing something on LinkedIn. An addiction. Particularly at C-level. A strange desperation about what people think rather than what people are. Endless performance for an algorithm that doesn’t love you back.
I’m no influencer. Don’t want to be. I just want to see things clearly and help others do the same. There’s an essay coming on this — probably about Microsoft, probably about what they’ve done to LinkedIn, probably about why the smartest people I know are the quietest online.
But that’s for another week.
For now: life is beautiful. The sun was out. The trails were good. My daughter is climbing. My neck is healing. And somewhere out there, three good people share a birthday.
Buon weekend. See you on the Downs.