I made it to the 7th

A story about golf, humiliation, and giving things a go anyway.

I’ve been learning golf on and off for a while. Lessons with a local pro, Dulcie, hours on the simulator, nine holes at Garrons and Rayleigh. I was getting there. Sort of.

Before every swing, Dulcie would remind me of about five things. Posture. Grip. Stance. Head down. Don’t take your eye off the ball. Oh and a friend said imagine there’s a £50 note under it. Someone else threw in angle, distance, and “listen for the pop of a good hit” for good measure.

I was so tense trying to get it all right that I’d completely mess up the shot. Golf is honestly one of the most frustrating things I’ve ever tried. I genuinely didn’t understand how people played for hours and called it a good day.

Then something shifted. I loosened up. Relaxed a bit. Started hitting the ball further. Moved from the simulator to 9 holes, then someone invited me to do a “proper” round at Luton Hoo. Eighteen holes. Eighteen. A massive, whopping, steep step up.

I was hesitant. I was nowhere near ready. But you’ve got to start somewhere.

I had all the gear. Women’s golf clubs, tees, balls, a fibre cloth for the clubs, water in the bag, brolly. Very prepared. Apart from one small thing.

I didn’t check the weather.

I made it to the 7th tee before the heavens opened. Not a drizzle. Torrential. Windy. The kind of rain that goes sideways. My umbrella lasted about thirty seconds before the wind turned it inside out. I had soaking wet clothes, soaking wet trainers, soaking wet hair, and a very long walk back to the clubhouse with my golf clubs.

The only dry thing I had was a spare pair of tracky bottoms in the car. So I stuffed my sopping wet jacket and trousers into a black bin bag kindly provided by the very polished Luton Hoo staff and stood there dripping in the foyer, due to have lunch.

Surrounded by people who looked like they’d stepped straight out of a Ralph Lauren catalogue.

The universe had a different plan for me that day. Mostly just humiliation.

Still counts though.

I made it to the 7th. I put myself out there, gave it a go, and walked away with a story I’ve told at least a dozen times since.

Overthinking every move doesn’t only happen on the golf course. Whether it’s a new client pitch, a rebrand, or a business decision you’re not quite sure you’re ready for sometimes you just have to loosen up, show up, and accept that the weather might have other ideas.

I haven’t played 18 holes since. I know I’m not ready yet. But the driving range is calling. Spring feels like the right time to get that swing back. And next time, I’m checking the forecast.

If you’re looking for a steady hand while you take the big shots, that’s what I’m here for. The thinking and the doing, while you get on with playing your round.