Lessons from the Trail

Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “Do one thing every day that scares you.”

I can’t say I do something that scares me every day, but when I get an opportunity, I like to push myself. This quote from Eleanor Roosevelt reminds me of the time I was invited to join a small group of dental colleagues on a mountain bike adventure through the Sonoran desert on our “free afternoon.” We rode with expert rider, technology wiz, and knowledgeable desert tour guide, Larry Emmott.

I was slightly intimidated by the fat tires, huge shocks, high seat, and low gearing but still I thought: how different can it really be?  (Turns out it was WAY different!)

With the rest of the country still shoveling the worst snow in a decade, we set out on a dusty path called the 50-Year Trail on a gorgeous, warm, sunny, dry desert afternoon.

After only 50 feet on the trail, I felt a pure shot of adrenaline when I realized that, even on the fairly flat beginner trail, there was deep sand, loose rocks, and gnarly cactus lining both sides of the narrow, single track that rivaled the worst human torture device I’ve ever seen (at the Tower of London museum). I will say, it was a fantastic motivator to keep pedaling at any cost and keep my butt upright and on that bike!

The warren of trails at the base of the Santa Catalina mountains was not very well marked, and soon we found ourselves somehow off the flat beginner trail and on what Larry deemed a solid intermediate one. If the thorny cactus seemed scary on the flat trail, this seemed downright sinister with my tires pointed downhill toward an obstacle course of deep, twisting sandstone ruts and jagged rocks. Images of scabby knees and plaster wrist casts peeking out of a gorgeous French lace wedding dress briefly flashed through my mind because my wedding day was only 2 months away. What was I thinking?

But something pulled me forward and that “something” was:

  1. The memory of exhilaration and personal pride I’ve felt when I stuck it out and conquered something I was afraid of and was wholly unsure I could even accomplish
  2. The kind and patient encouragement of my experienced and accomplished companions

Though I’m positive my pals were secretly wishing to be cut loose from the newbie and get on with the thrill of tearing up the trails, it was a definite “no one gets left behind” kind of ride. I regularly came around a corner, dragging up the rear by a mile, to see Larry and the others patiently waiting on me to catch up. Since I must have strongly resembled a 2-year-old holding on for dear life on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride at Disneyland, Larry decided I might need a few tips to make it out in one piece. Here’s the advice he gave me:

  1. Get off the seat and allow the bike to do the work it’s designed to do for you.
  2. Always be looking ahead, further down the trail (instead of straight down at your front tire and solely at the immediate obstacle).
  3. Center your weight over the bike.
  4. Get in the right gear for the current terrain.
  5. Pray like hell. (Just kidding!)

That afternoon, I had a death grip on the handle bars and couldn’t process any other thought besides, “I promise to pray every night if you’ll just get me out this,” but when the ride was over, I began to think about Larry’s advice and how it applies to our work lives as well.

How important is it for me, as an entrepreneur, to get off the solo seat and let vehicles (team members, marketing plans, software, financial advisors, and coaches) do what they were designed to do?

How useful is it for me to keep my gaze on the road ahead in order to anticipate where and when to shift and to adjust my strategies, leadership, and actions?

How often do I need to get myself centered once again and be reminded of my “why”?

And how critical is it to be in the right gear to maintain my speed, maximize my efforts, and conserve my energy on the course and trajectory of my business growth and evolution?

Oh, and one more thought from this little adventure:  We are always stronger, more courageous, and more capable than we think we are. And every time we do something that scares us a little, we’re stretched to a new place with broader possibilities and a more expansive viewpoint.

This week, I hope you do one thing that scares you every day, even something as little as speaking up (if you typically stay quiet) or letting others speak first (if you’re always the first one to speak) or something as big as volunteering for a project (even if you aren’t sure quite how to manage it) or saying “yes” to the invitation of a lifetime to take your chances between the cactus on a mountain bike.  Each and every time you raise your hand and live in the “Yes!” you shine just a little brighter.

GO FOR IT!

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid but he who conquers that fear.”

~ Nelson Mandela

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