I am frank beard was born from an idea I had of a health and fitness app. There was a great buzz surrounding it as it was quite a unique idea, I won't go into detail as I may well follow it up later.

I began developing the original idea around 2018 a little while before I started science writing. Once I began writing, what I had to research for the work proper blew my mind. I would often sit and immerse myself in lots of additional reading, way beyond what was needed for the piece I was writing. A piece that should have taken 3-4 hours would often take 6-8 hours. 

That work was about the gut microbiome and everything to do with it. I have known about gut bacteria for a long time, but what I was reading was with regard to, not only the microbiome, it was also all of the other components that make up our individual eco systems. A fascinating set of components that present as some form of celestial creation, an absolute genius with details so defined, it gives earth a good run for its money.

What probably shocked me most was the number of studies that had and are still being conducted on the subject. This spelled that excitement is for sure heightened around this subject, that must be a good sign. What I was reading felt like a source of food, for want of a better word, like something I knew I was waiting for and it had finally arrived. I would often tell people about it with such zeal I most likely tired them out, like a dog with a bone I couldn't let it go.

There isn't any just one important component as they are all so integral, but for me the real deal breakers are the human milk oligosaccharides (HMOs). Prior to my work I may have heard of them, but there is no recollection, as I read and began to understand their role and realised the power they possess, I knew I was observing a main governor of the whole organisation. Every part is so important, but each of the other components, either alone, or even as a collective could so easily become lost in the weeds if the HMO's are not present, but I was yet to personally feel the full force.

By 2021, I feel I can say I had a pretty good heads up on the gut eco system, but I knew there was still a very large library to learn. My direction or learning pathway was directed very much by the next piece of work I would be handed, so although I was learning daily, it was in some ways aimless, on many occasions I found myself answering some questions relating to results found in some human studies, with results I had read in other laboratory based study where the subject matter was observed in a tube or glass dish, known as "in vitro".

Unfortunately, in the first part of 2021, I received a covid jab. I believe I may have already been prediabetic, this is where your blood sugar is slightly higher than it should be, around 5.6-6.9mmol/L, rather than the 3.9-5.5mmol/L. To cut a long story short, within a few weeks I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes with blood sugar above 33mmol/L. I tried for some time but didn't get on with the medication, really didn't get on with it. I wasn't what is considered the usual suspect for diabetes so I decided to try and control it with diet and exercise, an act I am not condoning.

One year on, I was not doing very well at all, some toenails had fallen off, finger nails rippled, the ball of my right foot was very large and very painful, I had numbness all over the place especially in the morning, and my right leg below the knee was alien, I believe it was dying, it really didn't feel like it belonged to me.

Prior to the diabetes I was already suffering from trigger finger in the middle finger of both hands. This is where the tendon gets caught in the tendon sheath due to inflammation, already a painful condition, this became worse. Stubborn and stupidly I battled on, and it was while on holiday and dragging of my leg every morning that got me to the point where, enough is enough.

I said to my partner 'I think if I don't do something soon, I will lose my leg. I'm going to put into practise all I have learnt about the gut'.

I returned from my holiday, and from what I had read over my time science writing, devised a trial for myself. That trial is what has led to this new business format, a format that has given me more control over my health than I could have anticipated, a format that I hope will help many others.

If you are interested in the full story you can find it in Mammalian Bacterium Part 1 'Standing on the Edge of the New World'

and Mammalian Bacterium Part 2, 'The Biological Production Line, From the Cakehole to the Grave'.

What's Included in...

It's a lifestyle

I was born in 1969, so my memories start from around 1973-1974, when during every school holiday, I would go to work with my dad in his lorry, and often to the yard. When we were at the yard, being so young, it was overwhelming, this was probably amplified by the very bold and unique characters, some being ex World War 2 soldiers that were present.

My dad being a lorry driver, drove a class 1 artic, so the biggest of the standard transport lorries back then. One of the other drivers was called Long George! I don’t know why he was called Long George. Maybe because he was so tall. Maybe because he took a long time to complete his duties. Whatever the reason for the name it seemed to fit. He was, Long George.

Then there was Harry Harris… a dude with a very old worn-out looking face… his voice was so deep and croaky, and he have very lived in looks. An old soldier, and spoken of like he was a legend. Unfortunately, last I heard was he had a breakdown and was found after a few days walking the streets rambling.

Then there was Jonny Loveridge, from the talks I heard, in my young mind he was a gangster, even if only small time, “doing a job” was a phrase that always seemed present whenever his name was mentioned. These are just a few of many, that now I look back, were amazing characters amongst the many working-class people that frequented my early to mid-youth and worked for John E Hall and other businesses that were in and around Silwood Street, Bermondsey, London…

But there was one that would be carried as an anomaly, and he was the manager. Another former soldier, thinking back, he was probably of the officer class. To a four- or five-year-old, as I was in my first memories, he was a very firm deep voiced character.  From the get-go he would correct my, “what?”, to every question asked of me with, “pardon”, although my shyness was horrifying, I would lean my head very slightly, and my head all confused by why he was saying pardon, would again, but this time silently to myself say, "what?". I would feel as though I was shrivelling up, almost speechless. My shyness was as extreme in front of him as it was in front of the main man, John E Hall, himself.

The manager was the main vein of the worker/management network, he was the giver of the orders, the organiser and the one who kept the communication open between the owner and the workers… the one who kept it all together.

If the drivers returned from their deliveries after business hours they would meet in the Raymouth Tavern in Raymouth Rd, Bermondsey. Whenever I was out in the lorry with my dad, we would always end up in the Raymouth… it was said that’s where the notes would be picked up for the following days deliveries… They did pick up the notes, but I believe the truth was, beer.  As soon as we entered, my dad would instantly collect his notes from the manager, but we wouldn’t leave. Oh no, that was just a signal for the beer to start to flow, I would spend the coming hour or three drinking coke and eating crisps while the men sat drinking and having a laugh, with deep belly laughs from the manager almost as the central figure holding court.

If it was a Thursday night (payday), then I knew it would be time to strap in, as normally the playing cards would come out, and it wasn’t unusual for there to be, in my eyes, massive piles of 5-, 10- and 20-pound notes on the pot. These were some of the scenes of my early life for as far back as I can remember.

From the age of 12-13, as well as going with my dad I started to work at the yard for part of my holidays. Mainly unloading the containers that would come in on the backs of the lorries, stacked full of boxes and sacks containing, sultanas, currants, chocolate, and coconut amongst others, destined for all different places. Some even to Peek Freans, the biscuit factory just up the road, and whose gorgeous baking smells would all so often fill the air.

It was here I began to come out of my shell and learn from those around me. Slowly, and as my confidence grew, and usually via the interaction and encouragement from the other hands, I even began chatting more and more to the manager, even ended up with pardon as a main stay of my daily chat. I remember a smile beamed across the manager's face the first time I said it, almost a look of proudness. I had a fantastic time, and it was a very different world back then.

Then, when I was 17 it all went wrong. My dad came home one day with a letter. The letter explained that J E Hall Ltd was going into liquidation and basically my dad was out of work. After a while it was established that after the 23 years of service my dad had given to the company, he would receive around 3k, basically peanuts, a minimal government style pay-out, a little cheers mate now, see ya!

One thing I remember hearing during this whole affair was that the manager was ok, he was going to receive the right amount for his time spent in service… after all he was the one holding it all together, he was the one translating the orders from the top boy down the ranks. And however unfortunate it was for the others, he had engineered himself into a position where he would be ok. To me, at the time I was very upset and felt the betrayal the guys must have felt, this dude was another form of unique.

Strangely, my dad who was very angered by the whole affair, a year or so later, and after a few beers, told me to always look out for number one, then you can take care of others, not to place all my eggs in one basket, and cited, to my surprise, the manager as who to be like. I mean in truth, this manager, however I felt about it, had for 23 years stayed behind every night to pass on the notes, he had run the company that had given 23 years of wages, he had negotiated pay rises etc, and ok maybe when the boat went down, he had secured himself a front seat on the lifeboat, he had for 23 years kept the main ship afloat.

As the years have progressed, and I have looked back, those early experiences are now enchanting and resonate with warm appreciation. In every position I have found myself in since, I have always looked for the backup plan. It is your early years that impact and shape how you will cope with the future. My dad is no longer with us, but he is, and always will be, my hero. He passed on so many nuggets, little gems, that I still use as guides.

I don’t need to outline the details, but I have massively changed my life course, I converse on any level required, I am proud of my roots, but also proud of the changes that I have made, sometimes very hard changes, to get to the headspace I have now. And the older I get, the more I realise that holding it all together is as hard now as it’s always been.

So, as well as my dad showing me the ropes of life, the manager also played a very significant role. With his correcting my, ‘What?’, to a question with, ‘Pardon?’, which got me thinking, and even initiating conversations with me, I see evoked confidence. These actions led to the beginning of my understanding of the importance of language. How just one word in the English language alone can have so many connotations, this action by the manager is ultimately what initiated the tips of my toes on the pathway to where I am today.

So, when it came to launching and naming this new and hopefully final business venture, I wanted the name to encompass all the aspects of my life that have led me here. The name needed to be something, or one that, after my dad of course, was the biggest influence that instigated change. I am from very humble roots and my road, as with many of us, was somewhat crooked at times, and in many cases, luck has prevailed.

So, as I looked back while choosing the name, it struck me that many times it has been my ability to communicate on multiple levels, sometimes reluctantly, that has maybe initiated some of that luck, and without that tiny intervention from the manager, making me question him and then myself, my road I believe would have a very different backdrop.

So, by now there must be some form of intrigue about the manager?

If only, what was his name?

Yes, Frank Beard.

I am obviously like my dad, very much, but by way of signifying that I have done what he told me to, and be like Frank, I thought it to be a very apt way of encompassing all that has led to this point, and that little seed of thought that was planted by Frank.

These are the whys to why I chose the name, I am Frank Beard.

So, wherever you may be guys, know that with so much love and appreciation, I raise a glass to you both, to my dad Tony, and the manager, Frank, cheers x