Change

Outnumbered.

I have been thinking a lot about change recently.  For me, one of the most inspiring aspects of Andy Murray's rise to number two in the world of tennis has been his willingness to change himself.  Only a few years ago he sat at number four in the world rankings, behind Novak Djokovic, Rafa Nadal, and the seemingly unassailable Roger Federer.  Rather than a top four, it felt very much like a top three, outside of which sat Murray - ahead of those below him, but critically below the level of the three men who really mattered.  I even read an opinion piece in one newspaper suggesting how heartbreaking it must be to have dragged oneself to the absolute peak of one's tennis ability, only to suffer the misfortune of playing in the same era as the best player - if not the two best players - of all time. 

Murray, evidently, had other ideas.  He moved to Miami and started training like a demon through the winter months.  He worked on his strength endurance, reduced his body fat percentage, built some muscle bulk and changed his body shape.  He emerged as a new player.  The results since speak for themselves: reaching the final of the last five grand slam tournaments he's entered; reigning US open champion; a gold medal at the London 2012 Olympics; a deserved rise to number 2 in the world.  He undoubtedly improved his fitness, his technique and - through the adoption of Ivan Lendl's coaching methods, his mental strength. But for me what is most inspiring is that faced with apparently insurmountable obstacles - essentially he was tall, skinny and too weak to compete with the best - he physically changed himself through sheer hard work to be one of - if not the - strongest, fittest and feared players on the world tour. 

It reminds me of what Dave Macleod once wrote around bouldering - climbing short routes generally of ten moves or less, sometimes on an obscure piece of damp rock a few feet off the ground. Bouldering is a sub-genre of climbing that has been described as both the sport's purest form and the world's most pointless activity.  For me Macleod captures perfectly the attraction of bouldering, and the reason why it can be so addictive.  He describes seeing a line of holds, and knowing that they feel impossible, yet wondering whether - no matter how unlikely - one day he might be able to climb them.  How he might spend weeks, months or even years increasing his finger strength, working on his technique, improving his core stability, reducing his weight - in short, changing himself, until he can climb the problem.  Of course, at the point of success, the euphoria is fleeting, and the desire to try something even harder, to change yourself again, soon kicks in.

Tennis and climbing aside, however, the main reason I have been thinking of change is because it is happening all around me, right now.  Iliya Carrie Phillips was born at home at 8:49pm on Saturday 22 June, weighing 7lb 12oz.  In the space of only a couple of years, Anita and I have gone from being a couple, to a couple with a child, to a family of four. I would say it all feels terribly gorwn up, but that would be a lie - I'm not sure I feel any more grown up than I ever have.  I do think we had both forgotten finer details of raising a new-born baby - the brutality of broken sleep, the stress of looking after a brand new and completely helpless human being, the constant round of feeding and changing, pooing and puking.  Of course this time round we have a delightful two year old in the mix as well.  But I can say without any doubt whatsoever that I wouldn't have it any other way. As Dave Macleod points out, if it wasn't difficult, it would all be too easy, wouldn't it?