Not the 2026 start I had planned...

Here is a list of things I didn’t have on my bingo card for January 2026 (let alone the first bloody week):

1 - Being ill

I pride myself on having a fantastic immune system when it comes to the common cold, something I largely attribute to spending a large portion of the late 2000s refusing to take a coat on nights out in winter in the north of England. Between that and the fact I’ve been a solid member of the 5 second rule club when it comes to consuming dropped food, I’d say I've built up a pretty sturdy exposure-based germ-defense system, which is why on the very rare occasion I experience this failure of health, it not only wipes me out physically but mentally, I struggle to compute the concept of being ‘man-down’.

Cue January 5th aka the first day back at work for 2026. 
Bags are packed for the 6am gym session complete with shower essentials and work attire. Several tupperware containers are chilling in the fridge, the usual 3 meals to take to the office.

The dog leads are all out in preparation for the dog walkers.

The 5.20am alarm goes off, I open my eyes and BAAAMMMM… I appear to have swallowed razor blades in my sleep. And why does it feel like a bag of sand has been poured into my mouth overnight? I know, I’ll sit up and…..OH HELL NOO, what is this wizardry causing the room to spin? Did I get run over by a steam train last night? Everything aches!

After 10 minutes of questioning whether this was in fact ‘the end’ and a further 15 minutes of self-pity, I sulked downstairs to grab the biggest mug I could find and fill it to the brim with what I lovingly refer to as The Lord’s Nectar = a sugary cuppa tea. 

At this point, I am wide awake. The brain has well and truly been engaged, and I am mid-mental tussle with the devil and angel, or more accurately put, the amygdala (emotional) and the prefrontal (logical) parts of my brain, one advocating for rest, while the other protesting with hand painted signs reading ‘you are not ill, you are weak!’

Then it hits me. The irony of this whole thing.

Only 5 days ago was I sat, blissfully taking for granted the joy in nasal breathing, typing about how this year I wanted to lead with curiosity. I had also written in my journal the idea of entering 2026 with a softness. A softness in how I treat my body, a softness in the pressures and expectations I put on myself, a softness in the energy I bring to my marriage.

Yet here I am, less than a week later, berating myself for not feeling well, mentally bullying myself into going to the gym, proclaiming how I don’t need my husband’s help - I am a strong, independent woman, whilst I’m questioning whether necking my step daughter’s Calpol is a solid option for pre-workout.

In the words of Glinda the Good Witch (Wicked reference for you non-musical theatre nerds) “These things are sent to try us”

I have to believe that this really is a test from the universe to see, from day 1, if I am willing to put the work in. A settling in period would have been fab but apparently that wasn’t on the cards. 

So here we are now, Friday 9th January (Yes, I’ve been typing this over several days)

The week hasn’t been tooo difficult in comparison to how the old version of me would have dealt with this, so I am trying to give myself some grace.

The goal was to lead with curiosity and softness, and this came in the form of being curious as to how I would feel choosing to rest from exercise as well as approaching work with a softness, which looked like carrying out my scheduled work (calls/sessions, etc) but not adding more or pursuing growth in this period. 

Irritable, frustrated and aggy. There. That's how I felt.

It would have been mentally miles easier for me to just sack this curiosity off, go to the gym and work all the hours under the sun in an effort to ignore my symptoms - as this is exactly what Previous Kathy would have done - however long term, this was no benefit to anyone. The illness would have been prolonged, I would have been frustrated by my lack of ability to perform, and I can fully confess I would have been an absolute nightmare for my husband. 

Instead I've spent the week carrying out my commitments in the form of client calls, sessions and admin, and nothing more. 
No gym. No crazy early starts. No late evenings of work. No business development as such. Just rest, nutrition, coffee, calls, and gentle walks.

At times I’ve had the devil on my shoulder calling me all the names under the sun, tapping into my fear of being unproductive, yet I’ve sat with the discomfort, acknowledging its existence and identifying it as part of the growth process. 

Has it been a revelation? Well, yes and no.

No, I still don’t feel 100% well, and I’ve not exactly succumbed to the new way of rest. It’s been uncomfortable and frustrating…

But Yes, because I have broken a 20+ year cycle! Nothing bad has happened. The world hasn't imploded. I have finally sat with said discomfort and not run away from this.

In a way, I am proud of how I have handled this, but also very aware I have only scratched the surface of my identity of softness and curiosity. There is still a lonnngggg way to go, and I guess luckily I have 358 days to keep on learning.

So for anyone reading this who has had a less-than-ideal start to the year, please don’t let that create the narrative for the next 51 weeks. Life happens, it is how we respond that matters. 

For me, I am committed to becoming the softer and more curious version of myself, and I am willing to accept the discomfort that will come with that. 
And at the end of the day, if I achieve this and I don't like the results, Hell, I can pivot and change direction…

So here’s to a year of curiosity, softness, and occasionally arguing with my own brain before doing the sensible thing anyway.

I won’t pretend this week has turned me into some enlightened, slow-living wellness goddess. I’m still irritable. Still impatient. Still deeply offended by the concept of rest.

But nothing terrible happened when I stopped pushing. The business survived. The marriage survived. I survived without the gym.

Which feels… inconveniently enlightening.