PLAN B - The building blocks of Life After Swoosh
I didn’t have a Plan B. Everyone was talking about their Plan B. They all seemed so calm. If their job was impacted by the restructuring plans they knew they could cope; they knew they could move smoothly on to something else without falling apart. I was filled with dread and utter panic. I didn’t know what the hell my Plan B could even be, let alone have it pretty much squared off and know it was sitting up my sleeve, my ’get out of jail free’ card if I was facing redundancy.
I’d been at Nike for 20 years, dedicated nearly half my life to the company. I’d earned the respect of my colleagues and was a valued member of an international team, at one of the biggest brands in the world. I’d always get an appreciative reaction when I introduced myself in meetings, gave my Nike story and said how long I’d been with the company. I wasn’t smug about it; I was proud. I’d committed myself to Nike and could be relied upon. The longer I was there, the more settled and content I felt. I guess it made me feel safe.
I did panic, I did shed tears and I did think “I can’t leave as I’ll be screwed!”.
Even so, I did occasionally think that I might not have too long left at the company. It would creep into my thoughts in the dead of night or during a big meeting. I was middle aged (probably), and I worked for a huge, dynamic, global brand whose core consumer was a 17 year old Generation Z-er. Could I sustain the passion, drive and energy I had for the brand and its vision to #MAKESPORTADAILYHABIT when I was fifty? It wasn’t that Nike wouldn’t want me at that age, they’re an inclusive company, championing sport for all. No, I knew deep down it stemmed from a place of fear. I felt like I didn’t know anything else other than Nike. Yet I knew at some point, I would be faced with having to find that something else.
I didn’t get my Plan B formulated in time. All too soon, it became apparent that my job would be massively impacted. I did panic, I did shed tears and I did think “I can’t leave as I’ll be screwed!”. But a thread of thought was teasing its way into my head, telling me that maybe there was something else beyond this Nike world I was so comfortable in, something that might make me feel inspired and driven and could actually pay the bills. I wasn’t quite sure what it was. But I’d started to think about my skills and passions, and most importantly, to believe in them. It was like the excitement of a child finding pieces of Lego scattered around the room. They don’t have any instructions, but they know they can build something. They sense potential, and they know with unfailing certainty that if they keep going, they can create something special and unique.
And just like that, this thread began to wind and grow in my mind. It wasn’t a solid Plan B, but it was enough to turn a switch and put me in control. It made me feel that I could face whatever lay ahead. Instead of cowering under the covers, afraid of the big bad monster lurking under my bed, it gave me the strength to whack it away and jump on the bed in celebration of my victory. I had never experienced this feeling before. I had never imagined I’d be capable of feeling anything like this. I saw myself as the person running away from something so scary and falling apart because I couldn’t build that magnificent Lego sculpture (I’ve actually always been rubbish at creating anything of any interest from Lego). But feeling this for the first time started to create bubbles of excitement and anticipation and, dare I say, creativity! I realised that Plan B was whatever you wanted it to be and by the very nature of just knowing in your mind there could be something else — after life at Swoosh — you were very much in control of what was to come.
