Don’t just sit there. Do something. The answers will follow.

Suffice to say, I’d been sat here a lot of late so I decided to do something I’d never done before in the hope of having an epiphany…

…I went on holiday on my own.

Faced with the lack of motivation to break a cycle I’d been oscillating around for longer than I should admit, I decided to dip my toe in the water, quite literally.

I harnessed my ‘Do Something’ principle and travelled solo to Tenerife. Exactly one month ago today I was dangling my feet in a hotel pool, waiting for a reaction to kick start my mid-40s in new and exciting ways.

Except life doesn’t work like that, so I just took one step at a time instead and went along for the ride.

With success often constituted by a series of small wins, I patted myself on the back for finally finishing a book on the plane about football data, which wired up my mind for a statistical analysis of the journey to the hotel upon landing.

With no baggage to collect from the carousel, I gave myself an 80% chance of reaching the top of the taxi rank ahead of the rest, and a 70% likelihood of getting to Costa Adeje for €30 within 20 minutes. Moreover, I’d be 100% happy whatever the outcome, because I was heading towards the Atlantic Ocean rather than Compton Canal Lock.

Turned out there was a Boeing-load of tourists already in the queue and there was an accident on the main road out of the airport, so my data-based approach was binned off before it began and I reverted to type, muttering towards the digital taxi meter; its scarlet digits rising upwards of €50 to a muffled Shakira soundtrack.

The recurring theme on this trip was ‘to be kind to myself’, so I congratulated myself on unpacking my clothes immediately (however few there were in my bag) and for showing restraint and patience during the airport security process, where family arguments were belt-buckled to grey plastic trays, laptops and loose change.

The following morning I cased the joint, locating the gym, the restaurant and the sunbed man – all in that order.

Each day thereafter, I gymmed it, picked at some pastries and lay by the pool with my counterintuitive self-help book to living a good life. One of its cornerstones is the premise that we all have a limited amount of f*cks to give because life is so short, so we should reserve our f*cks wisely.

The irony of giving one about not getting my preferred sunbed was entirely lost on me, so too the lack of a rowing machine in the gym and the identikit waiters taking turns to ask where my wife was every night, amusing themselves at my table-for-one punchline.

For F*ck’s Sake.

My simple routine sustained me as the week went on and if the positive wasn’t felt in any given moment, I discovered one in not searching for it in the first place. Serenity would come with a gin and tonic on the balcony beneath the sunset, smiling at families playing cards amid hazy laughter; the introvert refraining from giving them all a hug and telling them they’re living their best days and to cherish each one. I’d adjourn to bed to the bombast of a fat Elton John impersonator.

“Don’t wish it away, don’t look at it like it’s forever.”

Time would fly like the plane to Birmingham and in the blink of an eye I’d be back where I started, simultaneously happy to have gone and content to have found my way home.

The key to fulfilment wasn’t found through a reaction to kick start my mid-40s in new and exciting ways, but more through a by-product that would follow.

I’ve returned to new work opportunities, my mental health is in good nick and my physique is even better, thanks to more gym visits, Hyrox classes and home workouts while the dog’s chasing rabbits on the sofa.

If you’re in the midst of an existential crisis and you have no idea what’s next, Tenerife taught me the answer. Not an epiphany as such, but a quiet little voice that is continuing to push me forward.

Do something. It will always lead to something else.