In the running

Mediation apparently originated in the Far East although it seems to me almost quintessentially English. The one I attended this month was frightfully civilised and served with plenty of tea. All that was missing were the cucumber sandwiches.

I do enjoy mediating cases. One good reason to do so is that it actually works much of the time, with mediators citing success rates of between 70 and 90 per cent wherever one looks. Another plus point is the fascinating people watching opportunities which a mediation can provide.

The plenary session at the start is often used as an opportunity to vent, should emotions be running high. Ours was calm and sensible, with no raised voices or table thumping. Each party then retires to its own private room and from that point the day can often drag, especially for a defendant professional indemnity solicitor such as myself as we tend to have made larger strides towards settlement than our opponents and like to ask the mediator to go and work with them first (come on claimant solicitors, you know it's true). However, once again this mediation bucked the trend, as the mediator was in and out of both rooms like a yo-yo throughout the day.

There was a short lull over lunchtime as everyone re-energised which segued for us into the longest wait of the day, as around an hour passed with no sign of the mediator. We were pondering the heated discussions and in-fighting which may be going on in the other room just as the mediator reappeared looking pretty pleased with himself and announced that there was a new negotiating tactic on the block. The claimant's solicitors had taken a time out to draft a settlement agreement incorporating their latest offer, and had the audacity to sign it in the hope that we could all pack up and go home early. It was certainly novel, but it didn't work.

We did however reach a settlement before the pre-ordained finish time of 6pm.

I have heard it said that a mediation has achieved the right result if none of the involved parties depart punching the air and pop open the prosecco, as that must mean that some true middle ground was reached. However you look at it, ours was a high value case which had already gone on for some years and which none of the parties wanted to fight to trial. Mediation proved the answer.

There are however matters which will never settle at a mediation, and thus spoil the mediators' hard-earned clean sheets. Reasons behind these blips can be intransigent parties or legal advisers who are only paying lip service to the process and secretly believe it to be new-fangled touchy feely politically correct nonsense. While that is clearly not the CPR way, square pegs cannot be forced into round holes and we must all accept that some cases are destined to end in a full-blown courtroom battle. Solicitors need an ability to read the mood of a case before deciding whether a negotiated settlement is a real possibility or whether to stand up and get feisty. The latter is rather un-English but sometimes it is the only way to go.

That brings me on to another matter I have been pondering of late, which is competition. It seems to be omnipresent in my life at the moment. This month saw me take part in the Great Manchester 10k run for the fifth time, and it was the second year in a row I organised the firm's entry in the Business Challenge event. Eighteen of us ran and I am proud to say that the firm's top two teams came 8th and 23rd out of a total 92 in our category. Some fantastic individual times were posted, the atmosphere was wonderful as always and most importantly we raised over £2,400 for various charities.

My five-year-old daughter entered the Mini Manchester 1.5k event the day before mine and really enjoyed the day. She had asked me to take her on a training run a few weeks before, when she had only managed to sprint about 200m a time before stopping to ask for water and a seat. I ran with her on the day and she did not stop once, I suppose because of the other children running around her (3,000 took part in total). I did hear one competitive Dad behind me at one point urging his son to put his head down and sprint for the finish line, which had just come into view. A great example of taking things too seriously.

The other big news in my home this month was the resignation of my husband who is going to set up his own business. It will rudely be competing with his current employer but the news has not been taken personally. I am excited for him, and delighted that he will no longer be living in Cheltenham for three days each week. Not that it isn't a nice place, it's lovely, but the drawback is that his wife and children live in Cheshire.

On the downside I'm simultaneously terrified about him striking out on his own in these difficult financial times. I am also genuinely concerned about how I will manage to watch America's Next Top Model without a derisory running commentary emanating from the other end of the sofa. Time to invest in Sky Multiroom.

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