Last weekend, I was in a luxury suite at Circuit of the Americas watching the American Le Mans Race and this topic came up. Actually, let me rephrase that. I originally went to watch the race -- I love racing -- and ended up spending the entire time making connections and networking. Toward the end of the day, a conversation came up between an old friend and I concerning the fact that the only reason we were in that suite is because we were actively working to surround ourselves with people who were more successful than we were. We both agreed that you should surround yourself with people that are where you want to be, not where you are.
Why? It opens doors. It creates opportunity. It enables you to do better. It encourages you to do better. You won't settle just because everyone else has. Let me share a few anecdotes.
Years ago, I lived in a high rise in downtown Austin. I was actually living far above my pay grade, while I had a Porsche, I was subsidizing my rent with a roommate. My neighbor down the hall had his own personal Lear Jet. And an Aston Martin. And all the other trappings of success. We're still good friends, and he's shown me a lot about how to do business that I would otherwise never have learned and we're both working to create opportunities for the other.
My girlfriend did not understand. She lived in a small bungalow in a trendy and exclusive part of town. But she was really surrounded by teachers and students and old Austin hippies. Not that these aren't nice people. They are. I love them. I love being around them, they are eclectic and unique and interesting and dynamic. But successful? Hrm. Perhaps not, even if their houses have increased in value to the point of absurdity.
She felt that the people I lived around were fake and pretending to be something they weren't and that the people she lived among were more "genuine". These are not necessarily untrue statements. Since moving in with her, I have enjoyed the company of our new neighbors more than I did the company of my old neighbors. That said, they really haven't helped me improve. They don't have opportunities. They can't open doors for me.
This all sounds kind of ugly, and it's the kind of thing my girlfriend and I argue about all the time. Your friends shouldn't be about what they can do for you or what they can offer you and it certainly sounds like that's what I'm saying. It's not. What am I saying is that if you surround yourself with people doing about the same or worse than you, you will continue to be in the same place you're in unless some miraculous circumstance happens. They don't know what the next step is, they may even be perfectly happy where they are, and you will have no real incentive to improve.
And that's not necessarily a bad thing. Look, there's a number I can hit financially where you'll find me parked on a beach drinking margaritas and literally not giving a fuck for the rest of my life. Enjoying life is its own reward and you'd be foolish not to sit back and do that every once in a while -- or realize when you've hit your mark. But I'm not there yet, and if you're reading this blog, you probably aren't either.
Let me talk about what happened in that suite. First, I ended up there because I'd made a few connections over the years as the track was being built. I had made sure to rub elbows with the guys behind it, and I'd helped them every place I could. That was the first opportunity -- it got me in the door with some very powerful guys I never would have met otherwise. I met a finance guy there and we exchanged information. That might turn into me hanging out in a suite I otherwise could never afford during Formula 1 weekend. It might turn into some financing for a couple of businesses I'm trying to get off the ground. It might turn into sponsorship for my race team. It might turn into nothing. I don't know, but the fact is, without making those connections, without surrounding myself with those kinds of people, I'd have never been in that suite and not one of those things would even have a chance to come to fruition.
This kind of situation is how one of my other race buddies set up sponsorship with Rebel Rock and how yet another got to be a test driver for Cadillac. It's how I ended up being a track instructor for the Lamborghini Club of Texas. It's how I've met many millionaires and a couple billionaires. Now, nothing is a guarantee, but those guys might pitch me a slow ball right down the middle just because they'd rather see me get it than someone they don't know. Of course, I've still got to swing for it and make it count, but it's a lot easier than trying to hit a fastball or trying to knock one out of the park off a pitcher who can't even get it over the plate.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Monday, September 23, 2013
Breaking down
The other day I noticed that my father wasn't climbing stairs as well as he used to. At some point in the past, his knee stopped working as well as it did. I know it's always been a weak knee, he injured it playing football a lifetime ago and it's never been the same. He's favored it ever since and it would occasionally cause him some problems.
However, this was new. He was climbing stairs one step at a time, like a child. He would use the leg with the good knee to step up to the next step, then he'd use that and his arm to pull the other leg up to the same step. Then he'd repeat the same process all the way up. Going down was the reverse. I'm probably not explaining it well, but it's the slow way of climbing stairs and you rarely see anyone do it other than the very young and the very old.
It struck me that somewhere in the past, he had stopped trusting the knee. Maybe it gave out on him on one step and he nearly fell. Or maybe it was painful. It could have been anything, the cause doesn't matter. What does matter was at that moment he had a choice.
He could either work hard at overcoming it or he could accept that his future included a knee that didn't really work.
Unfortunately, he chose the latter, as many of us do. The work was hard, the risk was high, and the inconvenience of failure wasn't so bad. After all, he'd still get up and down those stairs, he'd just be a little slower than before. So he accepted defeat, resigned himself to it, and started taking the stairs one at a time. Prior to this, he had lots of options. He could keep trying. He could try to build up the strength in that knee and rehab it. He could have gone for another surgery -- it's been many decades since a doctor has seriously looked at it, and there's been tons of advancement in rebuilding knees. He could have lost some weight -- something my father has always struggled with -- and helped his diabetes in the process, but his love of food won that battle too.
Now, his knee is far weaker than it ever was before, and it will continue to get weaker the more he uses its weakness as an excuse for "can't do". This is similar to the hole we all dig for ourselves. I should have gone to law school, I just talked myself out of it at the right time in my life. I could still do it, but it will require severe sacrifices that I may not be willing to make. Then again, I looked at it four years ago and said, "can't do". Looking back, I realize that not much would have changed about my life if I had done it, except for the fact that I'd have the law degree I wanted. Now I look it at with the same eyes and say, "yeah? Now? Can't do, man. Too old. Too far along. Can't make the sacrifice." All excuses. Will I go for it? Probably not, because I've got other irons in the fire that I want to make happen more and that I believe will have a better and faster payoff in the end. But if I didn't have those prospects? Damn straight. Nut up and make something of your life. Swing for the fence.
Postscript: I feel the need to state that while my father gave up on getting up and down those stairs gracefully, he didn't give up on getting up and down them. He still goes out there and makes things happen -- he even trucked his ass all around The Circuit of the Americas at the Grand Prix last year, probably just to show everyone he can still do it. He probably doesn't even see where he gave up on his knee, and it's only one small failure in a life full of success stories big and small. It's just a small thing that I noticed and felt it was a good subject to blog about.
See, I have a similar problem. Through an accident in college, I also acquired my own trick knee. I think there's some torn cartilage in there, but I've never had it scoped. It's just that some times it wants to dislocate again and sometimes it's just painful -- usually just after I've taken a prolonged absence from working out. I've been tempted to use it as an excuse many times. I can't finish this run because my knee hurts. I can't finish this run because my knee wants to give out. I can't squat this weight because my knee might do something funky. Every time I fight through it, I find my knee emerges stronger than before and it doesn't do it the next time. Now I work at it. I wear a brace when I have to and I do special exercises to strengthen the muscles around the joint.
As a result, I'm running 5ks now at a pace I thought was impossible before. But I could have used it to say "too hard, can't do" and cheated myself. I don't know what your obstacles will be, but I promise you'll see them every day. Every day there will be an excuse to quit, to cheat yourself, to do less than you can. Don't give in. Look the pitcher in the eye, tell him to give you his best shot, and swing.
However, this was new. He was climbing stairs one step at a time, like a child. He would use the leg with the good knee to step up to the next step, then he'd use that and his arm to pull the other leg up to the same step. Then he'd repeat the same process all the way up. Going down was the reverse. I'm probably not explaining it well, but it's the slow way of climbing stairs and you rarely see anyone do it other than the very young and the very old.
It struck me that somewhere in the past, he had stopped trusting the knee. Maybe it gave out on him on one step and he nearly fell. Or maybe it was painful. It could have been anything, the cause doesn't matter. What does matter was at that moment he had a choice.
He could either work hard at overcoming it or he could accept that his future included a knee that didn't really work.
Unfortunately, he chose the latter, as many of us do. The work was hard, the risk was high, and the inconvenience of failure wasn't so bad. After all, he'd still get up and down those stairs, he'd just be a little slower than before. So he accepted defeat, resigned himself to it, and started taking the stairs one at a time. Prior to this, he had lots of options. He could keep trying. He could try to build up the strength in that knee and rehab it. He could have gone for another surgery -- it's been many decades since a doctor has seriously looked at it, and there's been tons of advancement in rebuilding knees. He could have lost some weight -- something my father has always struggled with -- and helped his diabetes in the process, but his love of food won that battle too.
Now, his knee is far weaker than it ever was before, and it will continue to get weaker the more he uses its weakness as an excuse for "can't do". This is similar to the hole we all dig for ourselves. I should have gone to law school, I just talked myself out of it at the right time in my life. I could still do it, but it will require severe sacrifices that I may not be willing to make. Then again, I looked at it four years ago and said, "can't do". Looking back, I realize that not much would have changed about my life if I had done it, except for the fact that I'd have the law degree I wanted. Now I look it at with the same eyes and say, "yeah? Now? Can't do, man. Too old. Too far along. Can't make the sacrifice." All excuses. Will I go for it? Probably not, because I've got other irons in the fire that I want to make happen more and that I believe will have a better and faster payoff in the end. But if I didn't have those prospects? Damn straight. Nut up and make something of your life. Swing for the fence.
Postscript: I feel the need to state that while my father gave up on getting up and down those stairs gracefully, he didn't give up on getting up and down them. He still goes out there and makes things happen -- he even trucked his ass all around The Circuit of the Americas at the Grand Prix last year, probably just to show everyone he can still do it. He probably doesn't even see where he gave up on his knee, and it's only one small failure in a life full of success stories big and small. It's just a small thing that I noticed and felt it was a good subject to blog about.
See, I have a similar problem. Through an accident in college, I also acquired my own trick knee. I think there's some torn cartilage in there, but I've never had it scoped. It's just that some times it wants to dislocate again and sometimes it's just painful -- usually just after I've taken a prolonged absence from working out. I've been tempted to use it as an excuse many times. I can't finish this run because my knee hurts. I can't finish this run because my knee wants to give out. I can't squat this weight because my knee might do something funky. Every time I fight through it, I find my knee emerges stronger than before and it doesn't do it the next time. Now I work at it. I wear a brace when I have to and I do special exercises to strengthen the muscles around the joint.
As a result, I'm running 5ks now at a pace I thought was impossible before. But I could have used it to say "too hard, can't do" and cheated myself. I don't know what your obstacles will be, but I promise you'll see them every day. Every day there will be an excuse to quit, to cheat yourself, to do less than you can. Don't give in. Look the pitcher in the eye, tell him to give you his best shot, and swing.
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