Founders bring me in to run the operational side of the business, and to make their finances make sense, so they're not losing the week to admin or squinting at a spreadsheet they don't quite trust. A good chunk of the job is translation: turning the numbers back into plain English you can make decisions on.
Good operations are like a heart. When they're working, nobody gives them a second thought. You only really notice them when they stop.
Most founders come to me when the way they're holding the company together has quietly stopped keeping up with the company itself. Too much busy ops, not enough business ops. Sorting that out, and handing you back your week, is the job.
Right now a lot of how the company runs lives in your inbox and your head. Left there it quietly turns into operations debt: the small shortcuts that compound until something gives. I move it into systems and a sensible operating rhythm, so things keep happening when you're not looking, and so the next person you hire has something to step into.
Cash, runway, what's actually making money and what isn't. Think of me as a translator between you and your accounts: I get the finances into a shape you can read at a glance and trust, so the big decisions stop feeling like guesses. No jargon, and no being made to feel daft for asking.
Who does what, who you hire next, and the handful of rituals that keep people pointing the same way. I've built teams across three continents and run rooms full of people who didn't agree; I'm comfortable with the awkward conversations.
Strategy days, offsites, the planning meetings everyone dreads. I'm good in front of a room, so I can take the agenda off you and make sure the day actually goes somewhere instead of round in circles.
I also sit on the advisory board of Health Data Research UK, helping make sure patients and the public get a real say in how their data gets used. And I've given the better part of twenty years to St John Ambulance, as an emergency medical technician, area manager and regional LINKS lead. It's where I learned to stay calm when things are genuinely on fire.
I've had what a friend once called a Nessa career (Nessa being the character in Gavin & Stacey whose throwaway asides reveal an impossibly long back-catalogue of past lives). I catch myself saying "back when I was embedded at Qantas", or "the time I ran a global offsite for Visa", or "in my marquee days", rather more than is strictly dignified. The thread through all of it is operations. I'm the one who quietly makes the thing actually happen.
At the louder end that meant live events: music shows for fifteen thousand people, where the plan meets reality at eight o'clock whether you're ready or not. I ran my own events company for twelve years, then spent nine at Decoded, an education business, going from running the odd workshop to being its COO and opening the Sydney and Hong Kong offices. There's an economics degree from UCL and a spell at Merrill Lynch in there too, which is why the finance doesn't faze me.
Away from work I'm a bit of a masochist about endurance sport, and I have an entirely unironic love of model trains. Make of that what you will.
These days I do the operations job part-time, for a few early companies at once. You get someone who has genuinely run things, without a full-time hire, and without the day you outgrow the help, because by then it's built to carry on without me.
No deck, no hard sell. Tell me what's eating your week and I'll tell you honestly whether I'm the right person for it. And if I'm not, I probably know who is.