I’d been retired for 12 months. The decking was done, and I’d cycled my way around every country lane in Cheshire. I even helped organise a cracking 500-mile cycling trip around Tuscany. Stunning countryside, 3-star hostels, 4-star food, and 5-star cycling—what’s not to love?

The trip ended with a visit to a fancy private beach resort. Picture this: a posh restaurant overlooking the Mediterranean, where glamorous Italian women paraded down a blue carpet to the beach, followed closely by their tanned, smug Italian men

I couldn’t leave the resort without a dip in the Mediterranean Sea, but the lifeguard said “No, questa è una spiaggia privata.”  Sod off basically.

Sod it I thought.

We parked our bikes, took off our shirts and shoes and ran hell for leather past the lifeguard straight into the sea. Job done!

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Finding My Way Through Fitness

Over the next 12 months, I carried on a retired ex-businessman.

I attended an exercise class in Hale Barns every Tuesday, I was usually the token bloke. Jo Racle, the instructor, was a trained physiotherapist, and her classes were well put together and challenging. She made it fun with her cheeky personality.

Long story short, after 12 months of attending her class, I started my own. I paid Jo for the lesson plans, and Core4Men was created.

I bought ten massive Swiss balls, hired a room, and invited all my mates and people I met walking dogs. I did that for 12 months until the guy wanted his room back for martial arts.

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From Spin Bikes to Burnout

My next flurry with fitness was when I decided, based on my love for cycling and disco music, to be an Indoor Cycling Instructor; some called it Spinning.

Long story short, I bought 10 spin bikes, put them in my conservatory, like you do, and started my own Spin Studio. This, along with a contract at a local council-owned leisure centre, meant I was teaching 15 spin classes per week.

Suffice it to say, after 12 months, I was knackered and bored of being a Spin Instructor. I sold the bike and thought again.

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The Philosophy of “Start First, Fail Fast”

This is where I came up with the concept of start first, fail fast.

You decide to do something, give your best shot and if you are not enjoying stop, get out, learn, regroup and go again. Simple.

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The (Disastrous) Dance Phase

Next, I thought, “What do I enjoy doing?” I love to dance to music, so I applied for a Level 3 Exercise to a Music Instructor position. This was a big mistake for three reasons.

1. I had to take the course at David Lloyd Fitness Centre near Gatwick Airport.
2. The course was full of young 20-something females and me, a 60-year-old male.
3. You had to choreograph and instruct group exercises to music with eight beats per minute. Mastering the beat count helped ensure the movements were synchronised with the music, creating a cohesive, motivating experience for the participants.

My final assessment did not go well. There needed to be more synchronisation; the participants were not motivated, and the assessor said I lost control of my class. I failed the Exam, and when asked when I would like to retake it, I said Never.

Looking back, I enjoyed each new experience, met some lovely people, learnt something new about myself and also learnt what I didn’t want to do for the next decade or two.

But what did I want to do with those 16 hours every day.

The key takeaway? Retirement isn’t a one-and-done thing. It’s a series of experiments. You try, you fail, you learn, and you keep going. That’s how you figure out what gets you out of bed every morning.

Next week, I’ll share how a series of mishaps led me to my reinvention.

In the meantime, here’s a question for you: What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to try but haven’t dared to start?