My friends died in the Shoreham air crash – so I turned my life around

Telegraph

2 days ago

Reinvention is more than just a positive lifestyle choice; it's a necessity as society changes. The traditional three-stage life model — education, work, retirement – has been replaced by the 'multistage' life. The job for life has gone out of the window. It's time to embrace the many versions of you.
Take Angela Rippon. The 80 year old has had a six decade-long career in journalism and broadcasting, full of twists and turns – and including a memorable turn on Strictly Come Dancing. One of the most searched terms about her is 'Can Angela Rippon really still do the splits?'
Yes she can – and if like her you want to 'stay young until the day you die', you may need to reinvent yourself along the way. Leslie Kenny, a longevity expert from the Oxford Longevity Project, explains that there is evidence to prove that reinvention is a powerful tool for a healthier, longer life. 'It reawakens curiosity, builds resilience, and helps us shift from surviving to thriving. That shift is what gives us extra years and, more importantly, better years,' she adds.
Dr Mohammed Enayat, founder of longevity clinic, HUM2N, agrees. 'Reinvention in midlife, whether through career transitions, dietary improvements, or optimised sleep and movement routines, triggers positive epigenetic changes that directly impact the ageing process,' he adds.
'In clinical practice, we observe that embracing change reduces harmful stress hormones, enhances metabolic function, and significantly improves both health span and lifespan,' he adds.
So, if you're planning on living a longer, healthier and happier life, it's time to start reinventing. Need some inspiration? Here's how three brave midlife individuals navigated their big change.
'I was a Headteacher – now I'm a channel swimmer and lifeguard'
Married mother of two, Hildi Mitchell, 54, from Brighton traded the demanding world of head teaching for the open water
I began my career in academia with a PhD in social anthropology. My first reinvention came in 2003 when I left the university world to become a primary school teacher. I loved to teach and a role for headship came up at my local primary school. It was my dream job.
But it wasn't easy. Like many, my husband Jon and I juggled careers and looking after our children, Polly and Elise. I loved my job, but I think many of us sleepwalk through life, ticking off the next task. I kept fit and healthy – running, swimming and cycling. I wasn't fast but always consistent.
Then it was 2020, I combined turning 50 with COVID and a surge in stress levels. I led my school through the pandemic and headed the local branch of the national headteachers' union. Parents and staff relied on me and turned to me for answers that I didn't always have. I felt the weight of it in my body.
My mum had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer in her 50s. She never got to retire and live out her dreams, and that also weighed on my mind as I navigated the pandemic and kept the school afloat. Then in 2021, my friend Izzi died suddenly from COVID due to complications from diabetes. She was five days younger than me. An astrophysicist and serial reinventor, she lived life to the full, and we had such fun taking off on impromptu road trips and swimming holidays. Her death reminded me how fragile life is.
I'd trained as a swim teacher 18 years earlier. I always had a dream to swim the Channel, but I'd kept putting it off: 'I'll do it some time' I told myself. It was Jon who said 'some time' may never come. So, I did it. I booked the Channel swim. And then I resigned from my role as head teacher. The day I had to hand in my notice, I sobbed in my car. I had no clear plan, just the North Star of the Channel swim. But I knew I couldn't keep going as I was.
I had taught children as part of my role as a part time swim coach, and loved swimming. So I thought I would combine my two passions. I retrained as a beach lifeguard. This was harder than the Ironman I'd done, surrounded by 20-somethings, trying to clamber onto the board. After day two I told my husband Jon I wanted to give up. But I didn't.
Now I work at a 50m outdoor pool called Sea Lanes in Brighton. I clean toilets, fish hair out of drains, sit on the lifeguard stool in all weathers, and I love it. I'm working about 30 hours a week and taking home about 40 per cent of what I did before. That was supposed to be a full time job but I worked about 60 hours a week. So in some ways it works out well in the sense of having more time and more joy in my life. I've cut back on spending, cancelled subscriptions, like Amazon Prime, and I feel more mindful about how I spend my time and money.
I completed my solo Channel swim in July 2024. And now I'm planning to swim the Bristol Channel – and maybe even the North Channel, for the triple crown.
Setting goals is vital, without the Channel Swim, I may never have taken the plunge. I had a vision and now I'm living that out. I'm making sure I enjoy it.
Status and money are not important to me, and I'm not worried about what others may or may not think. What does matter is having a choice and living a healthy and happy life.
'My friends died in the Shoreham air crash and it was a catalyst to get fit and change my life'
A decade ago, Nigel Lambe, 55, was a father of three caught in the corporate grind. Today, he's reinvented himself as an entrepreneurial fitness coach
It's been said that people overestimate what they can achieve in a year, and underestimate what they can achieve in a decade. I'm a natural planner, I set long and short-term goals and it's how I've always lived, but if I went back to 2015, I think I'd be amazed to see the life I have now.
Aged 40, I was the classic slightly overweight businessman, married, three kids in private school, commuting to London to my corporate role as the chief executive of eCourier, a London-based logistics company. In 2010 I switched careers to start a successful coffee company and brewery. But the first time I did anything you could call 'sport' was after the 2012 Olympics. Like many others, I got swept up in the Bradley Wiggins hype.
It wasn't long after this that I opened a cycling café and started a social cycling club — no egos, no competition, just community and enough activity to justify a few beers. That group became a space for people like me to get together, have some fun, and tick the fitness box.
Then, in August 2015, everything changed. Two friends, Dylan and Richard, from the cycling group I'd set up were killed in the Shoreham airshow crash when they were out on a ride. It was devastating. A brutal reminder that time isn't promised.
I started a programme of therapy, which had a big impact on how I moved my life forward, and it pushed me to stop and take stock. By 2017, my 18-year marriage had ended. Divorce, stress and three kids depending on me — it cracked something open. The following year, I met my partner, Grace, online – she's lived in the UK for many years but was born in Nairobi.
By now, I was doing some parkruns and getting a bit fitter. And after focusing on running during lockdown, the change that had started four years before was accelerated. I put more energy into fitness and began serious training for a duathlon (cycling and running). I set a goal of becoming an age grouper (i.e. representing my country for my age).
I qualified and ran my first duathlon race in Irish kit in Bilbao. My goal? Not to come last. I didn't and am now preparing for my fourth race for Ireland, the World Championships in Spain this June.
Next up was marathon running. In just two years, I managed to achieve a PB [personal best] of 3.27 at the Brighton Marathon. While training for the marathons, I was set to go on a three-week trip to Kenya, to visit my partner's family. I decided I might need some time away from the new 'in-laws', so I signed up to a two-week running trip with the Kenya Experience who organise training holidays for amateur runners based in Iten, 2,400m at altitude – the 'home of the champions'.
I didn't just get fitter from that trip. I was inspired by the small town of Iten and the Kenyan culture. I loved the people and the contrast of their society to ours. At that point, I was working as chief executive of Sussex Innovation, part of the University of Sussex. I didn't wait, I invested in the Kenya Experience as both a runner and a business coach and am now helping to expand the business. And over the last year, I've also worked hard to qualify as a triathlon and endurance running coach (while working full-time).
Reinvention isn't what I was consciously doing. I wasn't trying to change who I was, but in always trying something new, I've certainly reconnected with who I'm meant to be. At 55, I feel like I'm just getting started, and I'm looking forward to discovering what's next.
'I ditched wine for Ironmans'
In 2020, Myanna Duncan was juggling her full-time career as a scientist, being a new single mum, and grieving her mother. Wine o'clock was firmly fixed in her day, but aged 40, she decided enough was enough
My daughter was born in lockdown, and six weeks later, my relationship ended. I was suddenly a single parent, raising her alone while working full-time as a Behavioural Scientist. Just nine months earlier, my mum had died suddenly.
I was grieving, overwhelmed and trying to keep everything going. Like many new parents, I slipped into an unhealthy daily habit when Ruby became a toddler. I'd collect her from nursery and pour a glass of wine while making dinner. When I wasn't alone, I was catching up with the girls from my maternity leave 'wine club'.
I wasn't drinking excessively – two to three glasses of wine. There were no wild nights or blackouts. But it was a bad habit that affected everything: my sleep, mood, energy and general wellbeing. I was always tired, without really knowing why. Alcohol is sneaky. It slowly wears you down without you noticing.
I'd always stayed fit. I did my PhD in 2009 at Loughborough University, the home of sport. But after having a baby and a C-section, my body changed and I felt sluggish. By the time I turned 40 in 2023, I realised how deeply the bad habits had become embedded. Still, it wasn't until March 2024 that I finally gave up alcohol for good.
As a scientist, I needed evidence to help shape my 'why'. I read This Naked Mind by Annie Grace. It explained not just the lived experience of quitting, but the science behind why alcohol is so damaging.
I'm all or nothing, so I decided to stop, as an experiment. I was amazed by how quickly I felt better. I was sharper, less irritable, my skin was clearer, I lost weight and was leaner all around, and I had more energy.
It wasn't easy. Drinking had been my way of coping with stress, and it was central to my social life. My first test was a ski holiday in Austria in April 2023. Ski trips had always been about the après as much as the skiing. I swapped booze for Red Bull and powered through with caffeine. I remember thinking, if I can do this, I can do anything.
The first three months were the hardest. If you're thinking of quitting, it's worth having a game plan. Even as someone sporty, alcohol was ingrained in my life. At university, I played water polo and drinking after matches was how we bonded. It's easy to become dependent without realising. In the early days, I used the excuse of 'training for something' to dodge the inevitable question: 'Why aren't you drinking?'
The biggest motivation to stay a non-drinker has been how good I feel. Your 40s can be a great time to enjoy the benefits of endurance sport, especially for women. My fitness improved quickly. My Parkrun time dropped from 28 to 20 minutes. At Hyrox Manchester, my training partner Joey and I came second, just behind the world champions. I'm back competing in Olympic triathlons and have an Ironman 70.3 coming up in September.
I still have friends who drink, and I don't judge. But now, when I go out, I enjoy the food and the company, not just the drinks menu. My social circle has shifted too. I've got more fit friends, and the Hyrox community is so supportive and inspirational. We train, grab coffee, and go for lunch.
I could never have imagined this life four years ago. It's changed beyond recognition, and I've never once wished I hadn't stopped drinking.'