Going Solo: Taxes, Takeaways and Tube Strikes

Have you ever had one of those moments where you just stop and think to yourself: Yes. This is it. I’m a genius.

Those glorious, “best decision ever” moments that come in the most bizarre places (usually the shower).

I’ve been having that feeling a lot lately.

More specifically, I’ve been having that feeling at the end of every class I teach, or every session I train a client. I’ll find myself on the train home smiling to myself like a halloween pumpkin, bursting with a sense of job-satisfaction that for the past year I honestly didn’t realise existed.

So if you’ve been following me at all on Instagram (or indeed if you actually know me personally) you will probably already know that just before Christmas, I made the very big, and very scary decision to quit my sensible, reliable, salary-paying job to commit fully as a freelance Personal Trainer and Fitness professional.

Going Solo

Week 1: Going Solo

Crazy times. Gone is the annual-leave and the statutory sick pay and the relatively easy-but-not-exactly-stimulating day job.

Instead, on Monday of this week, I found myself stuck in deadlock traffic in Elephant and Castle, mildly frustrated but mostly just inexplicably smug, caught up in the 24-hour TFL tube strike.

Because now, if I’m late to work, it actually matters.

Two months ago I wouldn’t have turned a hair at the tube strike. I’d have just been somewhat grumpy that there was more traffic on the roads as I drove to work in my little old car. Needless to say, I no longer drive now that I’m shooting off all across London (typical freelance-style) to teach classes here and there in Moorgate, Notting Hill or Piccadilly. Congestion Charge No Thank you.

All this rushing about has inevitably resulted in me drinking a whole lot more takeaway coffee. My daily expenditure has rocketed and it’s mostly on Flat Whites from Pret A Manger. Not something I’m too keen to continue, although a nice strong coffee is pretty much an essential after teaching back-to-back HiiT classes from 7am. Does that make it tax-deductible? Probably not.

Of course, that’s the other thing that comes with self-employment: complete responsibility of your own finances and tax responsibilities, which I’m ashamed to say up until now I’ve been blissfully unawares.

Nonetheless, the whole point of this post is that despite the traffic and the tax and the steadily-growing caffeine addiction, those moments at the end of a class that fill me full of pride, satisfaction and adrenaline…well, I wouldn’t dream of trading it back for an office job, no matter how steady or reliable!

I’m not bragging, or at least, I hope I’m not. I quite genuinely have butterflies in my stomach as I’m writing this because I’m just so happy with how things have panned out. A whole lot of hard work paid off.
Do what you love, love what you do.


Workout Wear of the Week

Going Solo


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