Matt's Blog
Here's Matt's frank and honest blog...
Closing One Chapter, Opening Another
I was born on Bonfire Night in 1974, and 50 years later, on Bonfire Night 2024, I handed in my resignation at BPEC. Some people celebrate their 50th by buying a sports car or booking a cruise — I chose to light the fuse on a new chapter.
That decision didn’t come easily. The weeks leading up to it were filled with sleepless nights, weighing up the safe comfort of a steady salary and a role I enjoyed against the pull of building something of my own. In the end, the bigger risk felt like standing still.
Fast forward to 30 April 2025 — my final day at BPEC. After a decade with the organisation, I walked out for the last time as Head of Operations & Development. There were mixed emotions: pride in what I’d helped to build, gratitude for the people I’d worked alongside, but also the nerves that come with stepping into the unknown.
My journey with BPEC started back in 2015 as Development Manager, where I played a part in launching the End-point Assessment Organisation. In 2019 I moved into the Head of Operations & Development role, a position that gave me the chance to help shape services that regularly punched above their weight in the industry. Looking back, I’m proud that people often assumed BPEC was a much bigger organisation than it really is — proof of the impact we made as a small, dedicated team.
My final weeks were a blur of handovers, farewells, and reflection. We celebrated with a team get-together, food, and some very kind words. It was a reminder of how far we’d come together. But as the goodbyes wrapped up and the door closed behind me, I knew the real test was only just beginning.
Sleepless Nights, Part 2
The first round of sleepless nights came before I handed in my notice. The second round came after I’d actually left.
May 2025 arrived with no salary hitting the bank, no packed diary, and far too much time to think at 3 a.m. I’d gone from ten years of structure at BPEC to staring at a blank calendar and wondering if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.
The doubts were relentless: What if no one wants to work with me? What if I’ve misjudged the timing? What if I’ve walked away from security for nothing?
But then came the first “green shoots.” A phone call here, an enquiry there. A couple of small pieces of consultancy work landed on the desk. Nothing big, but enough to remind me that people valued my experience and there was space for what I had to offer.
It wasn’t a flood of work — not yet — but it was hope. And sometimes, in those early days, hope is enough to keep you moving.
Building Momentum (and Working Poolside)
By June, the “green shoots” had started to grow into something more solid. Work didn’t arrive all at once, but it built steadily — enough to keep me busy, and busy enough to start turning the corner from doubt to momentum.
The timing wasn’t perfect. I’d already booked a family holiday to Greece long before handing in my notice, and rather than sipping Mythos on the beach without a care in the world, I found myself glued to my laptop for chunks of it. Not quite the stress-free break I’d imagined, but the truth is, I was grateful the work was there at all.
That month also gave me the chance to focus on something I’d wanted to do for years but never had the headspace for: finishing the manuscript for my eBook, So, You Want to Run a Plumbing Business? It’s still forthcoming (watch this space), but carving out the time to get it across the line felt like another small victory — proof that this new chapter wasn’t just about client work, but also about building resources that could help others.
June taught me two things: first, that work has a way of finding you once you’re moving in the right direction; and second, that holidays as a business owner are rarely ever “off-grid.”
Chasing Bricks and Mortar
By July the consultancy work was flowing more steadily, but I knew I needed something bigger to anchor the long-term plan: premises. A physical space where learners could walk through the door, train, and be assessed.
So began the hunt. Industrial units, training spaces, classrooms — I viewed them all. Every time I thought I’d found “the one,” it slipped through my fingers, usually snapped up by more established businesses with deeper pockets or longer track records.
It was frustrating. I could picture the classrooms, the workshops, the learners — but without a set of keys in my hand, it was all still just theory. Another round of sleepless nights followed, filled with the usual doubts: Have I jumped too soon? Am I chasing something that isn’t there?
Looking back, that period was less about losing out on premises and more about building resilience. Each near-miss toughened me up and sharpened my vision of what I really needed. And when the right opportunity finally came along, I was more than ready to grab it.
Signing on the Dotted Line
August was when things finally started to move on the premises front — but not without another round of stress.
For weeks I’d been chasing units, and when one finally came up that ticked most of the boxes, I nearly missed out completely. Why? Because my email systems were at war. Gmail and Outlook weren’t talking to each other properly, messages weren’t sending, and I was left wondering why no one was getting back to me. Not exactly the slick impression you want to make when you’re trying to convince a landlord you’re serious.
Thankfully, I caught it just in time. By the end of August, I’d agreed a tenancy.
Here’s the thing though: the unit I went for is bigger, and more expensive than I’d originally planned. Logic said keep it small, keep it safe. But my gut said something else. My drive to bring a proper trade training hub to Rotherham tipped the balance. I signed the lease, fully aware it was a bigger risk than I’d first intended.
It was another gulp moment. Suddenly, the dream wasn’t just in my head or on a spreadsheet — it had walls, a roof, and monthly rent.
The Fit-Out Fiasco
By September, I was knee-deep in the reality of turning an empty unit into a training centre. That meant sleepless nights on several fronts — finance, workload, and, once again, those cursed emails.
I thought I’d been smart by sending the estate agent a detailed outline of what I planned to do with the unit before signing the lease. A classroom here, a workshop there, and all the bits needed to make it compliant and fit for purpose. With that box ticked, I pressed ahead, confident everyone was on the same page.
Except they weren’t.
When the landlord eventually saw my plans — via email, not face to face — his reply made my stomach drop: “I wish you’d mentioned all this before signing the lease.”
That was the moment I discovered the email had never actually been sent. Another casualty of the Gmail vs Outlook war that had already caused me grief. My heart absolutely sank. I’d already committed, and now it felt like I’d started off on the wrong foot.
And then there was the finance. I’d applied for a business loan with HSBC, having been crystal clear from the start that my accountant had advised me not to take on anything that required a personal guarantee. The process was lengthy — I had to pull together forecasts, plans, and more paperwork than I’d care to admit. Still, I convinced myself it was worthwhile. The bank said the loan was progressing, and crucially, that no personal guarantee would be needed.
That was enough for me to start planning how I’d use the money — fit-out works, equipment, marketing. I let myself breathe a little.
Then the paperwork landed. And there it was in black and white: I would need to give a personal guarantee after all. My heart sank for the second time that month. Back to square one.
Add to that the financial pressure of funding the fit-out myself, and my days quickly stretched into nights. I kept “office hours” for consultancy work, then spent weekends and evenings grafting in the unit. It was exhausting. I’d chosen this path, but it didn’t make the pressure any easier to carry.
As if the finance stress wasn’t enough, the fit-out brought its own headaches. Materials were more expensive than I’d remembered, and just as we’d got the studwork in for the training room, I spotted not one but two roof leaks, dripping right over the spot where the suspended ceiling is supposed to go. A delay to getting the work finished, eating into my short rent-free period, and yet another source of stress.
September was a month defined by sleepless nights — the kind where you lie awake doing mental spreadsheets at 2 a.m. and wondering if you’ve bitten off more than you can chew.
But it wasn’t all bad news in September. I hosted my very first meeting at the new centre with a supportive contact, and that conversation could open the door to some exciting partnership work in the future. Just as importantly, family and friends have stepped up in a big way, giving their time, energy, and hard graft to help with the physical work. From shifting materials to picking up tools, their support has been invaluable, and when this business is a success, they’ll know they were a big part of making it happen!!
October – Nearly a Year Since Lighting the Fuse
It’s hard to believe it’s almost a year since I handed in my notice. Back then, the idea of running my own business felt both exciting and terrifying. Fast-forward to now and those two emotions are still very much present — just in different proportions depending on the day.
The “day job” has been relentless this month. Customers are already talking Christmas campaigns and deadlines, so the tempo’s up and inboxes are filling fast.
Early in the month I spent time tightening cashflow forecasts and producing the first bits of marketing for our 2025 upskilling and Trade to Trainer courses, but I’m acutely aware the training room needs to be ready before anyone can walk through the door.
And that’s where the frustration lies. The roof leaks still aren’t fixed, which means the development of the training room — the must-have — is on hold. The practical training area, meanwhile, is coming along nicely: framing up, clearing out, and starting to look like a place where learning will happen.
It’s progress, but not the progress that pays the bills. The “nice-to-haves” are moving faster than the essentials.
On the brighter side, I’ve sourced training room furniture, a smartboard, and a projector. The pieces are stacking up, waiting for the green light. I keep picturing that first group of learners sitting there — it’s what pushes me through the stop-starts.
Something else happened this month that genuinely stopped me in my tracks. Out of the blue, someone reached out — Someone who’s been watching the journey unfold — and offered help. Real, hands-on, meaningful help. No agenda, just empathy from someone who understands how daunting and lonely this kind of project can feel. I didn’t see it coming, and I’ll admit I was almost speechless. Genuinely humbled, and very grateful.
I’ve also committed to doing Movember this year to raise awareness; as a reminder to check yourself, physically and mentally. We all get so caught up chasing progress that we forget the basics: health, perspective, connection. If this blog nudges even one person to book that GP appointment or open up to a mate, then it’s done its job.
And finally, a big positive: my eBook So, You Want to Run a Plumbing Business? is almost ready to publish. I’m excited and nervous in equal measures… It’s been a long time coming, but it feels like the right moment.
October has been a test of patience and persistence. The to-do list is still long, the ceiling still leaks, and the training room’s still waiting. But each month, another piece falls into place. And nearly a year after lighting the fuse, the spark’s still there… Still burning bright.
November – Flat Out (Literally)
November started well with a great birthday with my family, followed by attending a Remembrance Day event. Unfortunately, that’s where the good run ended. I picked up a flu that completely levelled me.
This wasn’t a mild “bit rough” flu, this was the worst I’ve been since my acute gallbladder infection. It kept me at home for two full weeks. There’s frustrating, and then there’s staring at the wall thinking, “I really don’t have time for this.”
Once I was well enough to get back on my feet, I headed straight back into the centre… and straight back into more roof issues. The landlord tried to fix the leaks by replacing the skylights, but it turns out the problem is bigger, likely the roof itself or the guttering. So the training room is still half on hold while we wait for that to be sorted properly.
That said, there has been progress. The bays have come on nicely over the last week, and I’ve started laying out the trunking ready for the electrics. Julie has been brilliant again, she’s put in a huge amount of weekend time painting and helping get the place looking more like a centre and less like a building site. One of the classroom walls is finally finished, and the other isn’t far behind.
I’ve also installed the smartboard and projector, but I’ve had to rethink the classroom layout because the leak is still directly above where the tech was supposed to go. Not ideal, but at least we caught it before anything got damaged.
And despite the flu, I did manage to complete Movember. I posted the video on LinkedIn, and the support was great. More importantly, it was a reminder — for me included — that we all need to look after ourselves a bit better.
November wasn’t the month I planned, but progress is still progress. The centre is taking shape, even if it’s slower than I’d like, and December will hopefully bring fewer surprises and a bit more momentum.
December – Progress, Patience, and Perspective
December was less about big visible progress and more about catching up and keeping things moving in the right direction. After losing a chunk of November to illness, the early part of the month was spent getting back on top of work and finding my rhythm again.
One big positive was the eBook finally going live. So, You Want to Run a Plumbing Business? has had some really encouraging feedback, which has been genuinely motivating. It’s not about volumes at this stage, it’s about knowing the content is landing with the people it was written for. That alone made the long hours worthwhile. Download it for FREE here.
On the centre front, progress has been… steady, but frustrating. The roof is still leaking, which continues to hold things up. The landlord has now committed to a temporary repair to get us through the winter, with a full roof replacement planned for the summer.
December also threw in a couple of curveballs. My laptop developed a fault and had to go back to HP under warranty. I only realised the repair centre was in Poland when I tracked the parcel, not something I’d expected, but to be fair, it was turned around in just nine days. Not disastrous, but inconvenient when you’re trying to keep momentum going.
On a more personal note, our boiler decided to give up just before Christmas. Timing, as ever, was impeccable. We ended up having a new one installed, and what could have b
een just another headache turned into a really useful CPD opportunity. I worked alongside the Gas Safe registered installer fitting an Ideal Logic Max boiler. I HIGHLY recommend this boiler, a straightforward install with some outstanding commissioning features during start-up. It was a reminder that even unplanned jobs can still add value if you approach them the right way.
Christmas itself was a good one. We managed to see family across the period, even though there was no real “shutdown” in our house thanks to Julie’s NHS shifts. That did give me the chance to make a start on the classroom electrics at the centre... Nothing live yet, but the groundwork is in. I’ll be bringing in an electrician in the next couple of weeks to connect everything up properly.
December wasn’t flashy. No grand milestones, no ribbon-cutting moments. But it was constructive, reflective, and quietly productive — and sometimes that’s exactly what’s needed heading into a new year.