Run Like You Mean It

I don't like asking people for money. In fact, I generally don't like asking people for anything but that's just awkward me. For charity, I'm willing to get over that, hence my fundraising for the Ehlers-Danlos Support UK charity. It's a worthy cause for a condition that has affected my family, and plenty of others, and just seems to fly under the radar unless you know somebody who has it.

To coincide with that, I don't really like running neither. However, I'm willing to get over that too for this cause. On May 10th, I'll run the Leeds Half Marathon to raise money for the charity. This one is special to me for a number of reasons.

1. It's the first organised race I will run (if you exclude a 4k fun run when I was about 11).

2. It's in my hometown, and there's something just special about doing it at home.

3. This condition has affected a few incredibly special people in my life, so it's for them as much as anything else. (They will be responsible for any post-run massages, food, drink supplies #justsayin).

4. Let's face it, I'm no spring chick - so it may be now or never!

If I have sponsored you in the past for a worthy cause, bought you a pint, taken you to a terrible game of some sort, or if you've been on the receiving end of any pleasant gesture (if it was unpleasant, just press the X in the top right corner) from anybody in my family such as one of my mum's braisin steak & Yorkshire meals or a piece of my dad's lasagne or if you've attended a family BBQ, then I'll unashamedly ask for a donation.

I don't care however small it is. A donation will likely earn you at least one more of one of the above and my eternal appreciation. The likelihood is that I will not be pestering you for a long time for any future donations and I definitely don't want to have to commit to any more runs in future!

https://www.justgiving.com/ROB-ESTEVA

Roberto xx

Age and Beauty

When I was younger, I wondered whether older men and women viewed fellow 60/70 year-olds as sensationally hot and attractive, just as I viewed a 21-year-old hotty when I was around that age. Does the 70-year-old granny walk past the pub and all the old guys’ heads turn with a cheeky whistle or two? I like to think that I was a bright kid, but I was certainly prone to getting sucked into some ridiculous misconceptions. There were others. I used to think gravy came from graveyards and Vicks Vapor Rub was made by Vicars. It took some time to live those down too.

Age, growing up and getting old is a funny old thing. I spent two weeks in the UK in May, mainly in Leeds doing a coaching course. The early stages of the course are based around youth football. There are certainly important technical lessons that I learned, but the overriding factor for me were the social aspects of coaching, and how you should treat the players. My favourite coaches or teachers were the ones who created the most enjoyable working environment and that got the best out of me - I generally believe that to be the case regardless of whether you’re a 11-year-old kid chasing a ball around a park, or a 40-year-old office worker.

Spending time with my family over those two weeks was a pleasure as always. I get as much satisfaction from spending time with my ridiculously adorable 6-year-old niece Mia and feisty ‘destined-for-the-UFC' nephew Max, as I do with the older folks in the Leeds crew. Time ticks by but the people are the same. I noted another myth while at home when my Mum said that time goes by too fast – the days, weeks and months just fly by….and nothing gets done. Well Mum, time ticks by the same as it always did, there are still sixty seconds in a minute, sixty minutes in an hour, 24 hours in a day. And more importantly, you fill your days, weeks and months constantly. It is far better than sitting at home all day counting the hours. The days go so much slower when you look at the clock, or have nothing to do. Sometimes when I wonder where the time has gone, I think about what I have achieved, places I have been, and people I have seen, and I realise that is where the time went.

During those two weeks in Leeds, the experiences we all have at different stages of our lives, and how we interact with people of different ages was on my mind in a combination of random thoughts. I have heard a few people say that your 30’s are the best years of your life. That may have just been somebody feeling sympathetic towards me when I hit the 30 mark. So, ever the analytical mind, I decided to take a look at the various decades of one’s life and the general characteristics and experiences that you go through to try work out which decade was actually the most enjoyable.

The Noughties

You spend a fair amount of this time having absolutely no idea what you should do, but you just get on with it. You don’t care what others think, you poo and pee all over and start to say things that make older people squirm….somehow you’re still loved and adored by all. You will never learn and absorb as much in a decade as you will in this one.

The Teens

You still have no idea what you should do, but you know what you do not want to do – and that is more or less anything your parents or teachers want you to do. You care what everybody else thinks, but you don’t want to show it or let people know that you have developed those things called feelings. Somewhere just before the middle of this decade you wake up one morning and realise the same or opposite sex are quite appealing after being in denial for years, but you have no real idea how to deal with that until later in the decade. The decade of ‘trial and error’.

The Twenties

The harsh reality of work has almost certainly kicked in and it is ‘find your way in life’ decade. You realise that having your own money to spend is amazing, but actually, with all the responsibility that goes with it and all the people wanting their share of it, you recognise that being a student was not so bad after all. If you’re lucky, you’ll get to travel, probably to put off the work issue, escape it for a while, or buy some time to work out what you actually want to do for a job. You don’t realise that most other people in life do not love their jobs and have just fallen into something. You just know that you don’t know what it is exactly that you want to do for the next 40 years. Retirement sounds like a distant dream.

The Thirties

The decade of the ‘ticking clock’. If marriage and kids have not happened yet, everybody in your family is likely to be wondering if you are gay or have the cojones to ask the question. There is a different pressure in this decade, and that realisation comes when you find yourself submersed by students in a bar one night, and realise the hotty in the corner has more chance of being your child than your lover. Once you realised that, you can relax, be confident in yourself and get on with enjoying life. You’ve got some great relationships, many of which will be keepers as you realise that if you are friends with people as this point of your life, it is because you want to be friends with them.

The Middle Ages

Another type of pressure in this decade, and that realisation comes when you find yourself submersed by students in a bar one night, and realise the hotty in the corner is your child and there is a smooth guy chatting to her, and he is bigger than you. You are however happier going to the old pub that does not have televisions or music for a good old chat rather than a dance. Everything becomes that fraction bit harder physically, but you are still as sharp mentally. The youngsters of today are keeping you young, if you cannot match them physically any more, you are darn sure you’ll imprint your wisdom on them. You still don’t really know what you want to be when you grow up, but you would like a career change or to work for yourself. You’re at the halfway mark of your working life which is a grim thought. The decade of ‘painful realisations’.

The Fickities

At this point you are counting the days to retirement and thinking about all those amazing trips that you would love to do….and you realise they are pretty similar dreams to those you had when you were a Teen, but children, work, mortgages always got in the way. There is still some time to go however work-wise, but ambitions are a fraction lower, and you are in survival mode in what is possibly the only real time in your life where you are wishing that time went faster. The decade of ‘The Final Countdown’….and if you are that old, you’ll know the song too.

The Sixties et al

All those thoughts and dreams that you have been weighing up in the last decade can now become a reality. Or can they? Income is possibly reduced and you do not have the earning power, and you are reluctant to spend as although you cannot take it with you, you do not want to run out. While you should in fact be selling your house, move into rented accommodation and blow all your savings in a methodical manner, you are thinking of legacy and what you can leave for the kids. The kids who are actually big bad adults themselves now – let them look after you a little now. You have worked for some forty years, and now you should be enjoying life. The decade of ‘Nike – Just Do It’.

The End (of the blog)

Timing Is Everything

Being brought up in a tough comprehensive school in Leeds, its inevitable that one has a tough, hard man reputation. After publishing my wedding day vows last time out, I feel the need to recover some of my man pride...hence this random blog full of masculinity.

Over the years, I've come to learn that timing is everything. Hard work, intelligence and common sense certainly help, but timing is often just as key. My career path has been one example of this where things have just seemed to have fallen in place at the right time and the right place. The timing of my movements has worked well for me and among the networking, lengthy hours, risks and decisions, there has unquestionably been some fortunate timing to coincide. Had I not decided to study for a sports masters degree, I would never met HJ.

I was reminded of my impeccable timing a week after our wedding as we walked down the street alone in Prince Edward Island. As I occasionally do, I grabbed HJ's butt.....and if anybody recalls the size of my hands, it constitutes a heck of a grab. Behind us, about ten metres back, a local lady with her Starbucks coffee in hand shouts over 'Nice Grope Buddy' at the top of her voice. Lesson learned and timing impeccable as always.

It got me thinking of plenty of other embarrassing and uncomfortable situations that I have gotten myself in over the years. Ikea is not what I would call my greatest preference for a Saturday morning. Anybody who is fortunate to have avoided it in their lives thus far, will not know that they have this clever layout whereby you have to walk through and see the entire store even if you want to get one thing. That means everybody is walking and pushing trolleys in more or less the same direction.....not ideal if you have bad wind one day and are unable to wander away to a quiet area and let one go. All you can do is make your excuses and try and get to the scented candle section as quickly as possible. This may or may not have happened to me, just saying.

That takes me back to an old classic when I was in middle school...around 14 years old. I liked to try to be a cool kid, make classmates laugh and if I did get in trouble, charm the teachers my way. It usually worked for me. I also liked playing football and would be found kicking a ball every break and lunchtime. One lunch in particular, there was no football so I found myself particularly bored. After lunch, I was out with a group of friends kicking stones around and I launched one across the playground. With my impeccable timing, one of our teachers stepped out into the playground, as my stone skipped off the surface and drilled her in the side of her head. I had some sweet talking to do after that.

I would never suggest sitting around waiting for things to happen....they inevitably don't when you do. But it is funny how things turn out when you least expect them. Caught up in your own world, until it affects or involves somebody else whether you are walking down the street, shopping in Ikea or playing in the playground. Timing is everything.

The Devil Is In The Detail

I think we all have an optimum way of working. Some folks like to work in complete silence. Some folks like to work on their own. Some folks like to work in an open plan office space. Some folks like to work in the mornings. Some folks like to whistle while they work. That annoys me. Some folks don’t like to work.

Personally, I enjoy working. I made it my mission when I was a fresh faced but spotty boy from Leeds at school to work in something I loved and enjoyed. I saw my parents work so hard, such long hours, doing work that they didn’t particularly enjoy to give me and my sister a good start in life. I don’t like the fact that they had to, but I am eternally grateful. So I made it my mission to do something I enjoy and that something was sport. Football would be the ideal thing, but sport would keep me motivated to work and to work hard for the long forty-plus year slog we all have to make.

When I was young, I pretty much found my optimum way of working. If it was something I was not interested in, I just did enough to reach the next level. My mum showed me my school reports a month or so ago and it was hilarious to read the comments which are as appropriate now as they were twenty years ago. If it was something I was interested in or could tailor to football such as a random poem or story in English, I excelled.

The other thing I noticed when I was young was that I had a tendency to work best under pressure. That usually meant doing work at the very last minute. In some ways I am incredibly organised and meticulous. In other ways, I only produce my best when the pressure is on. During my working life, the same has always applied. I have always sort the high tempo intensity that brings the best out of me and it is what I enjoy.

In terms of working environment, I am not one to particularly revel in working in silence or on my own. Give me an airport, a room full of people, loud noise and music, all kinds of disturbances, and I am able to find my own silence and solitude in my head to work. I am reasonably fortunate to be able to do that. Given the travel and the hectic lifestyle I have often led, it has been the only way to progress.

I was always a nighthawk and still am. I generally produce my best late at night. Maybe it is another case leaving things until the last minute, I am not sure, but it is something I have always enjoyed. Whether I had to write an essay through the night, research and analyse football matches, or general stuff, the night has always been my friend. I sit here right now at 4.30am writing this blog and I am enjoying every moment. If you are reading this any time before 6am, then I apologise and hope you can go back to sleep.

My other place of great thought and contemplation is the loo. I kid you not. Instead of a magazine, try take a problem or issue to the loo next time, and give it some rational thought. It is amazing what you can come up with sometimes on the throne.

Not everything works for all people. HJ is an early bird and gets more done in the first few hours of the day than I get done before 3pm. My way is certainly not the best way, that I am sure. But it works for me. The devil is in the detail and working out our optimum way to work or live is pretty important for me.

Pain is inevitable, Suffering is optional

If you happen one day to be fortunate enough to be invited to Leeds, or even just a visit to Lausanne, you’ll be afforded the opportunity to see the Esteva library. Don’t expect to see Chaucer, I had more than enough of muppets like him at school. Don’t expect to find the latest crime thriller by Patricia Cornwell – coming from Leeds and having lived in Liverpool and Barcelona, I’ve first-hand experience of that kind of stuff. Apart from the Dexter series, you will find a predominantly sports-autobiography based collection. There are plenty of other gems in there, but either way, it is sport pretty much. That will not surprise most people who know me, and if it does, then we need to get to know each other a bit better and you need to buy me a drink.

I strongly lean towards autobiographies. I am fascinated to learn about the sportsmen and women that I admire and the psychology behind what makes them what they are. I mentioned it in a previous blog post, but my recent reading of Andre Agassi’s book was a real eye-opener, and gave me a completely different perspective of him.

Sat on my bookshelf in Lausanne is one particular book written and given to me by a friend of mine when it came out gift just over a year ago. It is called Englischer Fussball by Raphael Honigstein. In one particular chapter, it details a trait which he argues is very English – the need to suffer unnecessarily, taking the long route, and even taking a subconscious enjoyment from it. Being faced with adversity or some form of pain – physical or psychological – and being able to show that you can truck through it, survive and overcome it. I know there are certain elements that sit somewhere in my mindset along these lines, and I think it is the same with many folks. Whether it is a typically English thing, I am not so sure, I know others who are similar. It is not a case of eliciting sympathy or attention, it is purely a mechanism that works in the brain, probably to build psychological strength. That is my logic anyhow, maybe some folks think differently. Unquestionably some folks like to suffer and then have the hard luck story to tell – it is a similar thing in the sense that telling those stories is just as key to them as anything else and they thrive from it.

It is far from being a positive characteristic. I tend to avoid it at work for example – one would probably be fired in no time for procrastinating and taking inefficient routes. However, it is one which we can so easily fall into and even take some pleasure from. This may sound totally strange to some people also. Why suffer in any shape or form, or waste time, when it is completely unnecessary? There is no real logic behind any of it, I guess it is just how some people are and I know there are random parts of me like that.

Is The Grass Really Greener?

There have not been enough random thoughts recently – or certainly not enough that I have put down in writing so I am determined to produce more in the coming weeks – especially before the football season starts.

The best news of my summer, from a sporting perspective, was hearing that Mikel Arteta has signed a new contract at Everton. He had two offers from other clubs – clubs playing in European competitions, who undoubtedly offered more money than was on the table at Everton. For him to sign a new five-year deal with Everton was huge. In recent years we have lost some of our better players to teams with bigger budgets than us – Rooney and Lescott to name two – and who could blame them. Arteta’s deal signals a change in that and it is a key season for the club where there are actually some expectations on them for the first time in a long time.

Arteta’s decision seems increasingly rare in football these days. How many players turn down bigger money (he will be on big money at Everton regardless so he won’t be stacking shelves at Asda when he retires) and European competition to stay loyal to the club where he has made his name? The answer is not many. He would have contemplated what was on offer at the other clubs, and if his press conference after signing is to be believed, he has decided to stay at Everton as he has settled in the area and at the club, and is loved by team-mates and fans alike.

It is so easy to think that the grass is greener - something different, something new, or something else that somebody has is better than what you have. I think it is human nature. I wrote my blog regarding big decisions a few weeks back and I completely stand by that. Big decisions can also mean continuing doing the same, not always resulting in a change. Change is not always good, and recognising that is far from easy. I guess it comes down to an appreciation of what one has and what one knows, and clearly that is something that Arteta considered to be most important and the right thing for him.

It was only last weekend that I had this exact discussion with a good friend of mine. We spoke about Switzerland and if and when we decide to move on. It is easy to complain about the cost of beer, our jobs, the weather, travelling etc, but it is only when we think about the alternatives do we realise we have a pretty good gig going on. For me, the time I realise it most is when I go home to Leeds. That sounds awful and I do not mean it in that way. I love Leeds – the city not FC. It is purely when my friends and family ask what I have been up to, that I realise things are good. It is easy to dream about living in a country where a pint does not cost £5, where customer service and hospitality is excellent, and bureaucracy does not weigh you down. But flipping the coin and thinking of the positives of where you live, work, and friends you have, is just as important in realising that life is good. It is often said that you only realise how good something was when it has gone. I guess the secret is to take Arteta’s advice and recognise and enjoy what you have.