You Tricked Me!
February 27, 2009
My first half-marathon is coming up in four weeks, and it’s the time in the training program when I have to be increasing the mileage on my long runs. A few weeks ago, I had some unexpected “help” to make this happen.
My wife has a very good friend, Lisabeth, who also competes in races and triathlons with us. They train together, each making sure the other is staying on track in preparing for their various events.
On this particular day, they were supposed to go running, but Lorie got stuck in the office, so I agreed to take her place and keep Lisabeth company. As we started the run, she asked me how long I was planning on running. “Four miles.” I answered.
She said, “Why don’t you make it five, so you can keep me company, since that’s what I have to do today.” Now, you have to understand that five miles is the maximum I had ever run; I had only done it three times in my life; and two of those times were over 20 years ago.
Still, it’s a long way from four miles to 13.1 (the distance of a half-marathon) so I agreed.
As we got near the end of the run, I checked my watch and noticed that my time was a bit slower than what I would have expected. I asked Lisabeth if she was sure about the distance being five miles. She said she may have been a bit wrong – and confessed that the route we were taking might be slightly longer than five miles. “And exactly how much longer?” I asked. “Well, it’s probably closer to six miles.”
As it turned out, she was right – it was exactly six miles. I wasn’t exactly overjoyed about this at the time, but when the initial shock (and lack of oxygen) wore off, I realized it was actually a good thing.
First, I had run my longest distance ever. Second, I had done it at my fastest per-minute pace ever. Third, I was ahead of my plan for increasing my distance in preparation for the race.
And fourth, this was exactly the kind of thing I did when I ran our martial arts school. I’d tell the class we were going to warm up with 100 pushups, straight through with no break. When we got to 50, I told them we were done.
“But didn’t you say we were doing 100?” one student would ask, while the rest of the class glared at him with that “are you out of your mind – why are you asking him that?!” look on their faces.
My answer was simple: if I said we were going to do 50, then they would start getting tired and fatigued at around 35. But because I set the goal at 100, by the time they got to 50, they were just getting a rhythm.
And while not exactly the same situation I had with my run, it all comes down to setting expectations, following through, and achieving more than you think you can. Oh, I gave Lisabeth a hard time for “tricking” me into running six miles – it wouldn’t be as much fun otherwise – but it did help my training.
What expectations do you set for yourself? Do you challenge yourself to push the limits? Do you have a way to measure your progress? All of this is absolutely necessary if you’re going to be a peak performer at whatever you try.
I Hate This Thing!
February 12, 2009
We’re training at a new facility these days, the Rex Wellness Center. It forms the perfect “third point” on our triangle: our house, our office, and now our health club are all within three minutes of each other. Makes for very efficient planning of a day.
Of course, since the facility just opened about three weeks ago, everything is new – kind of like the fitness equivalent of that “new-car smell.” And, in particular, it’s nice to have new bikes for the indoor cycling (“spinning”) classes. The best part about these bikes is that they all have a cycle-computer display on them, showing RPMs, Calories Burned, Time on Bike, and, if you have a chest strap, Heart Rate.
Having this information at your fingertips – particularly RPMs and heart rate is almost as essential for a good workout as indicators of air speed, altitude, and direction are for a pilot. They let you know how your body is responding; they give you measurable, trackable feedback, and they push you to work harder when you’re slacking off.
And if there was any doubt about whether this held true for anyone else but me, this concern was put to rest when I heard a loud voice from across the room shout, to no one in particular, “I hate this thing!” When we all looked up to see what the outburst was all about, it was a woman – another triathlete – pointing down at the display, obviously “upset” that it was compelling her to work harder than she would have otherwise.
In the same way, you have to develop the metrics, processes, and discipline to monitor the performance of your key business processes. Do you know the return on investment for every ad you run? Can you measure the efficiency of your staff? Can you accurately estimate the amount of time it will take to complete a project?
These are all essential components to running a successful business. Anything else, and you’re just spinning your wheels.
Passion Makes the Difference—James Taylor vs. The Who
February 10, 2009
Being passionate about your work makes the day go by quicker, helps you be more productive, and generally makes you more fun to be around. When you lose your passion for your work, everyone around you knows it!
We can see an excellent example of this in the music industry. Growing up in New York City in the ’70s I had the opportunity to see many concerts. Two stand out as contrasting examples of passion. In 1975 I saw James Taylor at Tanglewood in the Berkshires and The Who at Madison Square Garden.
The Who was really at its musical peak, and the band’s leader, Pete Townsend, was the driving force. During an interview, he commented that when he was performing, he was on the stage physically, but he was somewhere else mentally. Once he even punched out a policeman who came on stage to tell him that there was a fire in the theater; he was so caught up in the music he really didn’t know where he was. Needless to say, this concert was memorable.
James Taylor, at that time in his life, was heavily into drugs so his passion was probably more focused on feeding his drug habit than it was on performing. His concert was good, but not great.
Jump forward 22 years. It’s the summer of 1997 in Raleigh, NC, and both The Who and James Taylor are coming to town. I was really excited about these two concerts. The Who was performing Quadrophenia, the great “concept” album they released in 1972, which we listened to constantly as teenagers. James Taylor’s new CD, Hourglass, contained his best material in 20 years, and, arguably, some of his best ever.
What I experienced was a flashback to the 1975 concerts—and now the roles had reversed. It seemed like The Who was just going through the motions. The band members put on an adequate show, but there was no real depth to their performance. James Taylor, on the other hand, was amazing. He looked as if he was having the time of his life. He interacted with the audience, joked around with his band, and played about ten more songs then he had planned on because he was having so much fun.
Maybe he was in such a great mood because he’s originally from nearby Chapel Hill. Maybe it was because we were sitting third row center. Or maybe he was really passionate about what he was playing. In any case, it was one of the best concerts I’ve ever attended, and his passion for his music, for performing, and for connecting with the audience left everyone in a great mood.
If a performance can have that kind of effect on an audience at a three-hour concert, imagine what kind of effect your own passion for your work can have on people you see for forty or fifty or sixty hours a week! Identify and understand the areas of work that you and your staff are passionate about and try to channel your efforts into those areas. You will be amazed at the results.
Random Acts of Kindness
February 5, 2009
Every so often, I see bumper stickers that say something like, “Commit Random Acts of Kindness!” To be honest, I normally dismiss these as a bit over-idealistic. The level of work we have to do—both inside and outside of our jobs—can leave us with precious little time to entertain such noble and altruistic thoughts.
But I had an interesting and encouraging experience a few weeks ago that helped to somewhat restore my faith in human nature.
My 11-year-old son and I will be riding in the MS-150 later this month. The MS-150 is a 150-mile bike ride to help raise funds for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. As you might imagine, biking 150 miles over two days requires a fair amount of preparation.
My son and I were on a training ride when another cyclist rode up and joined us on our ride. We talked about bicycles and good bicycling routes in the area. Then I mentioned that my son and I were in training for the MS-150 and had to raise a minimum of $150 each. He was impressed that an 11-year-old would do something like that.
Then, while we were riding, he opened up his “handlebar pack,” handed a $5 bill to my son, and said, “Here—now you only need $145 more!” Needless to say, my son was thrilled. The cyclist then rode on ahead.
About ten minutes later, he doubled back and joined us again. He asked my son if he had any bike shorts. (He didn’t.) A cycling jersey? (No.) He then told us that he used to own a bike shop, and he had a lot of inventory left over. If we wanted to stop by his house, he might have some clothes my son could wear.
When we arrived at his house, he took us into his garage and proceeded to hand my son three beautiful cycling jerseys, two pair of padded shorts, two pair of gloves, and a seat pack for storing tools and an extra tube. All of this was brand new—well over $250 worth of clothing and equipment.
He commented that he had loved to ride when he was a child; and if my son enjoyed riding and was willing to ride 150 miles for such a good cause, then the clothing would be more useful with my son than it would be in his garage.
Weeks later, I’m still amazed at this person’s generosity. And my son has learned a valuable lesson about “giving.”
Helping other people for no other reason than being nice makes both the giver and receiver feel great. Try to find something you can do that might have a similar impact on someone in your organization. It’s infectious, and it can have a profound impact on an organization’s culture.
Bringing Passion to Your Work
January 6, 2009
Maintaining a high level of passion about your work is an essential ingredient to sustaining the company’s performance. A recent trip to California really drove this point home for me.
I was flying to California to attend a magicians convention in Sacramento. On the first leg of the trip, from Raleigh to Chicago, we had an interesting welcome as we boarded the plane. The captain was standing at the doorway greeting each passenger with absolute enthusiasm.
“Hi, how are you this morning! Welcome aboard!”
“Here, let me help you with that bag!”
“Welcome aboard, we’ll get you safely to Cleveland! Just kidding—we’re going to Chicago!”
Once we were in the air, he gave the standard “we’re glad you chose to fly with us today” announcement, and apologized to anyone he hadn’t personally greeted! And, of course, when we were getting off the plane in Chicago, guess who was by the exit doorway wishing each and every passenger a pleasant day?
Here was a man who was clearly passionate about his job.
As I was walking through the terminal to get to my connection, I happened to see the captain getting a bite to eat. I explained that I had been on his flight from Raleigh, commented on how much I had enjoyed his enthusiasm throughout the trip, and then asked the question I had been dying to ask him: “So what’s your story?”
You see, anytime someone is so passionate about their work, there usually is a story behind it. Some “near-death” type of work experience causes them to rededicate themselves to their work with a fever pitch.
That was exactly what had happened to our captain. In the early ’80s, he was forced to stop flying for a while because the airline had too many pilots for the routes it was flying at the time. He was miserable.
After a few months things picked up again and he was finally back in the cockpit. His first day back on the job he made a commitment to himself that dramatically affected his attitude towards passengers: since his passion is to fly, and to keep a lot of other people flying, he would take exceptionally good care of every person on every trip.
Developing that kind of passion for the job and dedication to the customer is what makes companies successful. Try to do something today to make this happen in your organization.
