The Years That Shape You

Every August and September, a new wave of trainees walks through the doors. One of my own mentees has just begun.

It made me think back to day one.

Dear Abdul,

On your first day, as you nervously sit around the conference table, wondering if it’s okay to reach for the chocolate,
they’ll tell you: “this is a two-year interview.”

Immediately you’ll hear a droning sound.
The dull whir of a treadmill starting.
You hate treadmills.
But this is the game you’ve chosen.

You’ll worry about the small and the existential.
Whether you can stop wearing a tie on day two.
Whether the other trainees will want to have lunch with you.
Whether your supervisors will want you to return.

Soon you’ll learn that everything is evidence.
Every email.
Every draft.
Every completion.

Reliability will be the only currency that counts.

Who can crunch through the most work.

Who can be pulled into a take-private deal even though they’re in another seat.

Who will hand-deliver a court order to Cardiff during Covid, mask on, train virtually empty, because someone decided a courier was riskier than a junior lawyer with a train ticket.
Pro tip: the Pret isn’t open at 5am. The first train to Cardiff doesn’t serve breakfast.

This is how the treadmill years work:
not brilliance, not judgment - just proof you can keep running without falling off.

There are a few things which helped you stay the course.
The partner you persuaded HR to put you under who taught you through deadpan humour and always with integrity.
Your second supervisor, who answered your “stupid” questions even after you left his team and ultimately became your friend.
And of course the trainees.

You’ll be roped in to help. A lot. But they’ll help you as much as you help them.

You’ll save your trainee friend from deal exhaustion by stepping in -
and again but differently,
when a mouse bangs its head on the glass door, desperate for that late night Deliveroo.

You’ll trade Daily Mail FT clippings with one who becomes a lifelong sparring partner.
Another will jump on a plane to be there at your wedding.

So if you’re wondering how you did.
You made it through the interview.
And now, one of your own mentees has just started their first day.
Which is why you’re writing this note back to yourself.

Because here’s what you’ll realise:

Towards the end of your trainee years, you’ll ask your supervisor if it gets easier after qualification.
He’ll laugh and say, “No. It gets worse and worse and then you die.”

He’ll be joking… mostly.

✍️ Note to self: You ran because you had to. You still run - but now you decide where.