At the time, it sounded impossible and definitely not for me. I could barely swim a lap. I didn't run or cycle. Then I forgot about it entirely.

Eight years ago, a good friend talked me into going for a run. I was busy and I needed the exercise. I completed about one mile, in my basketball sneakers, and was winded.

Last month, I finished my first full Ironman.

How did I go from a one-mile run to an Ironman? I just didn't stop what I started. 

As we continued running, we naturally ran further. Then we decided to sign up with other friends for a half marathon, mostly for fun. Learning about structured running plans made a full marathon seem reasonable. Then a first triathlon, out of curiosity, and mainly to give my knees a break. None of it was planned, and each step turned out to be an extension of what I was already doing. By the time I signed up for an Ironman, it wasn't a leap. It was the next logical step.

What looks impossible from a distance is usually just a lot of small steps away. 

That's one of the lessons I learned, and there were others. Whatever you're in the middle of right now — a book, a business, a degree, a health change, a relationship you're trying to rebuild — I hope some of these are useful.

Start where you are, and give yourself a way to see progress.

We all have different starting points and limits. For me, it was running continuously for a mile. I didn't think about the mile as a smaller version of a bigger goal. It was the goal, and completing one mile well is what made more miles possible.

As I followed the training plan, each week of running slightly extended what my body could handle inside the same hour I already had. I wasn't finding more time — I was increasing my capacity and doing more with the same amount of time. That's the part people miss when they look at a big goal and do the math on their calendar. The constraint usually isn't the hours you have. It's what you can do with them — and that's trainable.

The mile also gave me something to track, and tracking it turned out to matter. My motivation didn't come from wanting it badly enough — it came from watching the number move. Three miles when two used to be hard. Finishing a mile in less time. Seeing that progress made me want to go out again, and going out again gave me more progress to see. Enthusiasm, for me, typically follows progress, and progress comes from getting started.

Which means you don't have to feel ready, and you don't have to want it enough yet. I certainly didn't. A friend asked, I said yes, and a mile was just where my body gave out. The starting point doesn't need to be the right one, only an honest one — whatever you can actually do today, rather than what you feel should be within reach.

The trap is comparing where you are to where you'd like to end up, deciding the gap is ridiculous, and never starting. The better question isn't how do I get from here to there? It's what's the thing in front of me that starts the compounding? Then do it long enough that it stops being a decision you have to make.

Work with how you're wired, and know what you can't teach yourself.

One thing I figured out over these eight years: signing up for a race is what makes me focus.

I noticed it by seeing the opposite. In the stretches when I had nothing on the calendar, training was easy to push off. And when I did train, it wasn't really training — I'd go to the gym and do roughly what I'd done the week before, which feels productive and gets you nowhere in particular. Once I'm signed up and there's a specific date, that changes. The plan for each week becomes clear. With only a limited number of Saturdays, Saturday's long ride has a job to do.

But deadlines work for me. They might do nothing for you. I know plenty of people who get stressed out by deadlines. Figure out what works for you — maybe it's telling someone you don't want to disappoint, or taking on the challenge with a friend. There's no right answer here, and that's the point. The mistake is borrowing someone else's method, watching it fail to take, and concluding you're not the kind of person who can do these things.

So look at your own evidence first. Think of two or three things where you had strong follow through. What was in place? A deadline? A person? A group? Money on the line? Real curiosity? Whatever shows up more than once is your lever, and you can use it on purpose instead of hoping it turns up again by accident.

Knowing your lever gets you moving. It won't tell you what to do once you're moving, and that's a different problem.

The clearest example for me was swimming. When I signed up for my first triathlon, I could barely get across one length of a pool without being completely exhausted. The date on the calendar is what made me deal with that rather than hope it would sort itself out, and it pushed me to get some swimming coaching.

I learned that the difference wasn't fitness. It was technique. I'd assumed I was a bad swimmer because I wasn't strong enough in the water, when really I just didn't know how to move through it efficiently. You can't solve that by kicking harder. I could have practiced swimming poorly for years, gotten more tired, and taken it as proof I wasn't built for swimming. What I needed wasn't more effort. It was someone who could see what I was doing and tell me what to change — which is the part you can't do for yourself, no matter how motivated you are.

If you're in the same spot with swimming, I'd recommend the Total Immersion approach; it completely changed how I thought about moving through water.

Do what you want, not what you like.

I like sleeping in. I like fries at lunch. I like almost anything more than waking up at 5am for a long bike ride. Those are things I like. Finishing an Ironman without being destroyed was something I wanted. So I got up.

Nearly every training day came down to a contest between something I liked and something I wanted, and the thing I liked was always more comfortable and more convenient. What helped me was naming which one I was reaching for — only one of them moved me closer to a strong finish.

But the thing I was really practicing wasn't discipline. It was getting my mind to take direction from me rather than the other way around. My mind produced excellent arguments: you're tired, you deserve a break, one day won't matter, you'll double up tomorrow. They're persuasive because they're built by someone who knows exactly what you'll fall for. The skill is being able to hear all of it and still do the thing you decided.

The workout was rarely the hard part. The hard part was the twenty minutes beforehand, going back and forth over whether today counted. The debate you have with yourself is expensive. It burns the same energy you were about to spend, and you usually end up training anyway, just later and in a worse mood. At some point, I learned to recognize when I was negotiating with myself and practiced short circuiting that conversation.

Showing up isn't the same as going hard, though. Being tired is real information — it's just information about how to train, not whether to. Some days that meant an easy effort instead of the planned one. Some days it meant resting on purpose, as part of the plan, rather than as the result of losing an argument with myself.

None of this is about proving your worth by how much you can push through — taken too far, that's just self-punishment, and it can do real damage. The point is narrower. You want to be someone whose own decisions get carried out. There's a real difference between intending to do something and committing to it, and the gap between those two is where most goals quietly die. Close it enough times and you start to trust yourself — which is worth more than any single thing you finish.

The cost shows up before the benefit does.

There were months when I felt slower than I'd been a few weeks earlier and quietly wondered whether I was training wrong, or whether I just wasn't built for this distance. My confidence dipped right when I was putting in the most work.

Here's what I learned: training doesn't make you stronger. Training makes you tired. You get stronger afterward, while you recover, if you give it enough rest and food and time. So the weeks where I felt the worst were often the weeks I was working hardest. You pay the cost before the benefit shows up, and the benefit tends to arrive around the time you've stopped paying attention.

Knowing that didn't make those months feel better. But it changed what I concluded from them, which turned out to matter more. Feeling slow stopped being evidence about me and started being information about where I was in the cycle.

I'd like to say I could always tell the difference between a rough stretch and something actually being wrong. Mostly I couldn't. What helped was having a plan I trusted and people I could ask, so the question didn't have to be settled by whatever I happened to feel that week.

So if you're struggling with something that matters, that isn't necessarily evidence you chose wrong. More often it means you're working at the edge of what you can currently do. That's uncomfortable by design, and it's the only way capacity grows.

Find a pace you can hold, and the fuel to hold it.

For most of the eight years, I thought about training almost entirely in terms of fitness. Get stronger, build the aerobic base, log the miles. Pacing and fueling barely registered — they sounded like details you'd sort out later, once the real work was done.

That's fine for a half-marathon and even a half-Ironman. At Ironman distance it falls apart, and a coach at my local triathlon club was blunt about why. The day is long enough that you can be genuinely fit and still not finish. You go out at a pace that feels easy. You don't eat enough in the first few hours because you don't feel like you need it. Then somewhere on the run you run out of gas — not tired, empty — and once you're there, no amount of fitness or willpower gets you back.

I saw it on the course. People who passed me climbing a hill, clearly stronger riders than I was, lying on the side of the road thirty miles later.

So he taught me to hold an effort that feels too easy for the first several hours, and to eat and hydrate on a schedule rather than by appetite. Both feel wrong at the time. Both are the reason I was still moving at hour thirteen.

I think about this constantly now as I pursue other ambitious projects. For anyone in the middle of something long, what sinks people is rarely a lack of capability or effort. It's not going the distance — starting too hard and having nothing left before the thing is done.

So it's worth asking: is your current pace one you can sustain for what you're actually pursuing? And what's refueling you along the way? For some it's sleep. For others, supportive relationships, or unstructured time.

Pacing and fueling matter more if you're going a long way, and taking that seriously changed the question I ask myself. It's no longer how much can I get done this week. It's what capacity am I building over the next few years.

Learn to relax when things go wrong.

For most people, the first time you do the Ironman is the first time you do the full distance. I swam, biked, and ran a lot, but I'd never done all three back to back at that distance. So a good part of race day was going to be things I hadn't experienced before, and no amount of preparation was going to change that.

It started early. I took a foot to the head during the swim, which happens in a mass start and still comes as a surprise.

I'd also come into the race with a strained hamstring, which changed the plan before it started. I rode the bike conservatively and stopped more than I'd wanted to, not because I was tired but because I wasn't sure the leg would hold.

It held. By the time I started the run I felt good. The hamstring was tight but fine, I had enough in the tank, and for the first time all day I thought I was going to finish comfortably.

Then, about halfway through the marathon, I felt a sharp pain in my right knee.

I stopped. I walked. I started doing the math on the cutoff, trying to work out whether walking thirteen miles would get me in before midnight, and whether running on the knee would do real damage. I didn't have good answers to either. I also wasn't sure whether the leg would simply stop working and take walking off the table too.

What got me moving wasn't resolve. It was something smaller: I dropped my shoulders, slowed my breathing, and accepted that my knee was going to hurt. Then I took a step, and another, and tried a few different paces until I found one it would tolerate. Nothing about the situation changed. The knee hurt for the rest of the race. But I could keep going, which was the best thing I could hope for.

When something goes wrong, relaxing rarely feels like an option. It feels like the opposite of what the moment calls for — you want to do something, fix it, take action. Tensing up at least feels like a response. But most of that energy goes into the reaction rather than the problem, and on a long day, energy is the thing you have least of.

The specific problem you'll face is one you probably haven't rehearsed. What you can rehearse is how you meet it — and it's worth practicing when the stakes are low. The delayed flight, the email you didn't want, the plan that falls through, the bad weather. Those are chances to notice the tightening and let it go before it costs you anything.

The rest of that marathon was stop, walk, run, and repeat, with the crowd's encouragement and adrenaline carrying me for most of the way. I finished, and finished stronger than I expected to given the knee. Seeing my family at the line was the best part of the day. Unfortunately for them, they had to help me walk my bike and carry my gear back to the hotel, which tells you something about how strong the finish actually was.

Snap back to the moment.

Lake Placid is a beautiful course — too bad I spent long stretches of it in my head.

I'd look at my watch at mile 85 and wish it said 110. I'd replay the fries I'd eaten the day before and blame them for my stomach issues. I'd wonder whether the hotel exercise bike I'd used on vacation the week before explained the pain in my knee.

And here's what I noticed: the more I did that, the longer the day got. Time crawled whenever I was thinking about where I wanted to be instead of just being in it. When I was actually in it — the road, the effort, the lake off to my right — time moved. I'd felt the same thing during training. Whenever I focused on how much was left, it felt like a burden. When I came back to the thing I was doing, the hour just passed.

Staying present sounds easy. It isn't. What helped was asking myself a question, over and over: What am I doing right now? Running. Toward the finish. That's it.

What surprised me wasn't that things went better when I was present. It was how rarely I noticed I'd left. The tell for me is a heaviness that doesn't match what I'm actually doing. Catching that, and coming back, is what I'm practicing daily.

It's on you, and it's a team effort.

Nobody could do my training for me. Not my family, not a coach, not a well-built plan. If I didn't get out the door, nothing happened. On race day, I was the one at the start line and the one crossing the finish. It's easy to look at that and think you did it all yourself.

Triathlon looks like an individual sport, and it turned out not to be one. Almost none of the eight years happened without other people in them.

My family gave up weekends so I could disappear on long training days, and nobody made that an argument. Friends helped me pick out a bike and rode some of the long ones with me, which is the only reason a few of them happened at all. The coaches who fixed my stroke and drilled me on fueling prevented me from hitting the wall mid-race. And on race day there were volunteers who'd signed up to spend their Sunday helping strangers. One of them peeled the wetsuit off me after the swim, which would otherwise have cost me several graceless minutes and a good deal of composure.

None of that was help I went looking for. Most of it I didn't ask for and some of it I didn't notice at the time. But it's the reason the whole thing worked, and it's changed how I think about my own effort. Since then I've started looking back at other things I've finished and counting the people who contributed. There are always more than I would have guessed.

Challenge the story you're telling yourself.

I opened with what I said when I first heard what an Ironman involved: not for me. I wasn't weighing it and deciding against it. I'd dismissed it immediately.

That's usually what stops us. Not the difficulty of the thing — a quiet belief about ourselves that closes the question early. I'm not athletic. I'm not a writer. I'm too old to start. I'm not that disciplined. Those feel like observations. Mostly they're claims we've never actually checked.

I'd believed a version of this about age, too. I assumed my peak years were a decade or two behind me and that everything from here was a slow decline. But I'm a better swimmer, cyclist, and runner now than I've ever been, and I got there well into my forties. Not faster — better. Skill doesn't seem to decline on the same schedule as speed, and I hadn't considered that.

Natalie Grabow didn't learn to swim until she was 59. At 80, she finished the Ironman World Championship in Kona, the oldest woman ever to do it. What I find striking isn't the finish. It's that at 59 she must have had every reason to think swimming was something for other people, and she went and learned anyway. Almost nobody who finishes a hard thing had a special starting point.

I'm not sure any of us fully knows what we're capable of. What I am sure of is that most of the limits I've assumed about myself were never tested — they were just sentences I'd accepted at some point and stopped questioning.

It's worth asking what you've already ruled out, and whether you've ever tested it.

One last thing

Rather than asking what you'd like to accomplish, here's a question I think is more useful:

What are you already doing that's worth continuing?

I didn't set out to do any of this. I went running with a friend and kept going. Somewhere in your life there's probably something you do inconsistently, don't take very seriously, and would be glad to still be doing in eight years. Protecting that is probably worth more than anything new you could add.

The first step is usually smaller and less impressive than you'd expect. Mine was a mile, and it left me winded.

Finally, none of these lessons showed up during the race. They showed up afterward, when I sat down and asked what had actually gotten me there. That's been true every time — after my first book, after my second, and after paying close attention to someone worth learning from, like William Zinsser. The experience by itself doesn't teach you much. Reflecting on it is what turns one into the other.

So whatever you've finished recently — a project, a hard season, something that didn't go the way you wanted — give it an hour and a blank page. Ask what you'd tell someone who was about to do the same thing. You'll know more than you think you do.

The post Lessons Learned Going From One Mile to an Ironman appeared first on Embrace Possibility.

1. Your Starting Point Matters — But What You Do Next Matters More

Buffett begins with something we often forget: luck.

He’s candid about his advantaged upbringing and grateful for the environment that allowed him to thrive. But he didn’t coast. He used what he had — opportunities, relationships, teachers, mentors — and worked consistently over decades. Even at 95, he still goes into the office five days a week.

Take a moment and acknowledge the advantages and outside influences that helped you get here. Then remember: disadvantages don’t have to stop you. Progress comes from what you do with what you have.

Buffett puts it well:

“You will never be perfect, but you can always be better.”

Life won’t be fair, but it will teach you.

2. "Get the Right Heroes and Copy Them"

Buffett frequently mentioned the people who have shaped him — Charlie Munger, Don Keough, Tom Murphy, Stan Lipsey, and others.

Not one of them is known for flashiness or fame. They’re known for character, a quality that Buffett values.

Try this right now:

Write down three people you admire and the quality you admire most about each.
Then ask: How can I practice one of these qualities this week?

3. Don’t Let Past Mistakes Define You

Buffett opens his final thoughts with a reminder we all need:

“Don’t beat yourself up over past mistakes – learn at least a little from them and move on.” 

Any time you mess up, take these two essential steps:

• Learn from it
• Move on

The key is remembering to do both quickly.

4. Know What You Want Your Obituary to Say

Buffett tells the story of Alfred Nobel accidentally reading his own obituary — and being horrified by what it said. That moment pushed him to reshape his life’s direction.

His challenge to us:

“Decide what you would like your obituary to say and live the life to deserve it.” 

A few questions worth sitting with:

• What would I want my obituary to say?

• Who would I want delivering my eulogy — and what would I want them to say?

• Are my daily actions moving me toward that version of myself?

If not, today is a good day to realign.

5. Be Kind and Compassionate (Especially When It’s Inconvenient)

Buffett reminds us that:

"Kindness is costless but also priceless."

It’s easy to be kind to people we like or people we care about impressing. But true compassion shows up when there’s nothing to gain.

A simple question to consider:

How can I be kind to someone I might normally overlook?

6. Buffett's Formula for Success

When Buffett looks back, the themes he highlights are surprisingly ordinary:

• Build long-term friendships.

• Work with people you admire and respect.

• Stay curious.

• Focus on substance, not image.

• Stick to your core competence.

• Help others quietly and consistently.

• Play the long game and let your efforts compound.

These elements are not sexy and won't go viral any time soon — but they work.

Final Takeaway: Life Is Long… Until It Isn’t

Buffett recognizes that:

“Father Time… is undefeated.”

We should too. Recognizing that truth isn’t depressing — it’s clarifying.
It reminds us to live the life we want now, not someday.

If you enjoyed these lessons, you might also appreciate this:

👉 30 Life Lessons from 1,000 People Who’ve Lived a Full Life

Wishing you a rewarding life!

The post Warren Buffett’s Final Letter: Lessons Learned from a Rewarding Life appeared first on Embrace Possibility.

Start early. Be consistent. Let it grow.

All solid advice.

What if you took the same idea and applied it to everything else that matters?

Instead of reaping dividends only in dollars, how might you earn them in other important areas of your life?

Here are five of the most valuable places to invest your time, energy, and attention, so you can harvest the fruits of your efforts for many years to come:

1. Memories: The Compound Interest of Joy

You don’t remember what you bought three years ago. But you do remember that late-night talk with a friend, the spontaneous trip, or the family dinner where everyone couldn’t stop laughing.

Memories are emotional currency. They don’t just bring you joy in the moment—they gain value with time. I often scroll through short clips of my kids and friends and can't help be in a better mood. The more meaningful moments you create, the more grateful and optimistic you tend to become. A bank of joyful memories makes future challenges easier to face.

Life Dividends:

• Stronger relationships

• A richer personal narrative

• Resilience during hard times

• A more positive lens on life

Practical Tips:

• Create a “memory fund”—a monthly budget for doing something memorable with people you love (even $25 can go a long way).

• Prioritize firsts—first hikes, first performances, first projects together. Firsts stand out.

• Capture and reflect—take one photo or jot a note each week or month about a moment you want to remember. Just remember to savor the moment as opposed (Why Photographers Miss Out On Life).

2. Knowledge: Returns That Outperform Any Market

A single insight can change your life. A book, podcast, or conversation might offer a new way to solve a problem, connect with others, or navigate a challenge. (Here are our recommended books, free online courses, and quotes)

But here’s the real magic: the more you learn, the easier it becomes to learn more. New knowledge connects with what you already know, forming deeper understanding, faster recall, and sharper judgment.

And it doesn’t just help you solve problems—it makes life richer. A person who understands art enjoys a museum more. A person who studies human behavior navigates relationships more wisely. A person who understands how systems work sees opportunities others miss. If you're not sure what to learn, just follow your interests.

Knowledge compounds. The more you use it, the more valuable it becomes.

Life Dividends:

• Better decision-making

• Expanded opportunities

• Greater appreciation of everyday experiences

• Accelerated learning over time

Practical Tips:

• Keep a “learning ledger”—write down one insight every two weeks and how you applied it. (Take a look at our book summaries for inspiration)

• Choose resources with a purpose. Don’t just consume—implement.

• Teach others what you learn. That’s when it really sticks.

3. Relationships: The Most Undervalued Asset

Strong relationships don’t happen by accident. They grow through consistent deposits—attention, encouragement, shared experience.

These investments don’t just pay you back emotionally. They provide support, perspective, and energy when you need them most.

And here’s the overlooked benefit: great relationships make everything else easier. When you have people who believe in you, challenge you, or simply listen well, you make better decisions, bounce back faster, and enjoy life more.

Life Dividends:

• Deeper connection

• Support during transition

• A sense of belonging and purpose

• A stronger foundation for personal growth

Practical Tips:

• Set a recurring reminder to reach out to someone you care about each week. Instead of sending flowers when someone passes away, send it to them when they are still alive.

• Celebrate small wins with others—new jobs, personal milestones, even silly victories.

• Create rituals: monthly calls, quarterly dinners, annual trips. Rituals help keep relationships strong.

4. Health: The Freedom Multiplier

As we get older, our fitness and mobility naturally declines. Investing in your body and mind today extends your options, stamina, and presence tomorrow.

What’s more: health amplifies everything else. When you’re rested, fueled, and clear-headed, you think better, work better, and stay consistent with other habits.

Life Dividends:

• More energy and clarity

• Better mood and focus

• Ability to fully engage in life

• Greater consistency in your other goals

Practical Tips:

• Choose one keystone habit—sleep, Zone 2 exercise, healthy diet, daily stretching—and protect it.

• Track how you feel after your habits, not just what you did.

• Stack small wins: movement, hydration, sleep—improve 1%, consistently.

5. Skills: Tools That Keep Opening Doors

Skills give you options. Communication, leadership, coding, design, writing—whatever your craft, developing it creates leverage for you.

And once you have a skill, no one can take it away from you. You carry it into every job, relationship, and opportunity.

Skills also create momentum. The confidence you gain from learning one skill makes it easier to tackle the next. And as your skillset expands, so does your sense of identity and self-trust.

Life Dividends:

• Career leverage

• Creative freedom

• A stronger sense of self-efficacy

• Motivation and momentum to learn more

Practical Tips:

• Pick one skill that excites you and solves a real problem in your life.

• Schedule consistent “practice sessions”—even 20 minutes a day compounds.

• Use it in real life. Apply what you’re learning to your work or community.

The Real ROI: A Life That Keeps Paying You Back

You won’t always see the return right away.

But the time you spent showing up for a friend?
The walk you took instead of doom-scrolling?
The book you underlined and actually used?
The skill you practiced even when no one was watching?

Those moments don’t disappear.
They compound.

They show up later—as strength when life gets messy, clarity when choices get hard, and joy when you need it most.

So yes—invest in your future.
But don’t forget to invest in what makes your future worth living.

Because the best dividends in life don’t show up in your bank account.
They show up in the quality of your life.

👉 What’s one small investment you can make today— that your future self will thank you for tomorrow?

The post The Best Investments Pay Life Dividends appeared first on Embrace Possibility.

After overcoming the initial jitters of zero visibility and irrational shark attack fears, I aimed for a building on the horizon and started my freestyle stroke, breathing every two strokes. This is where I learned firsthand why sighting — lifting my head to check my course — is so crucial.

I'd tried sighting a few times in the pool, but it always seemed to mess up my stroke rhythm. Since I felt I was swimming straight and wanted to cover more distance smoothly, I didn't sight until about ten minutes in. When I finally did, I was shocked at how off course I was. I had wasted a lot of time and energy not making much progress. I ended up needing to sight every few stokes just to stay somewhat on track.

Reflecting on this, I saw a parallel with pursuing goals in life.

My Takeaway: Sight Often to Avoid the Illusion of Progress

In both swimming and life, it's surprisingly easy to get caught up in immediate tasks that we lose sight of our true goal. Are your efforts directed towards reaching your objectives or are you just so busy that you don't realize that you're swimming off course? Are you aware of the currents in your life that may be pushing you unexpectedly sideways and adjusting early enough to ensure you're still on track?

Sighting in open water involves briefly lifting your head out of the water to check your alignment with a distant marker. It's a deliberate act that ensures you're heading in the right direction. Similarly, in life, we need moments of reflection and assessment. Regularly stepping back to evaluate our progress against our long-term goals helps us course-correct before we drift too far off course.

Take a moment to sight right now. Look at the emails in your inbox or check the meetings on your calendar this week, and ask yourself whether or not what you're doing is leading you to where you want to go. Just as in swimming, regular sighting can keep you on track, ensuring you reach your true destination in the shortest possible way.

The post Navigating Life’s Currents: One Important Lesson from Open Water Swimming appeared first on Embrace Possibility.

“Imagine life is a game in which you are juggling five balls. The balls are called work, family, health, friends, and integrity. And you're keeping all of them in the air. But one day you finally come to understand that work is a rubber ball. If you drop it, it will bounce back. The other four balls...are made of glass. If you drop one of these, it will be irrevocably scuffed, nicked, perhaps even shattered.”

Work is a rubber ball (a blue sky-bounce handball for your Brooklynites)!

This visual comes in handy whenever I'm deciding what to do with the never-ending list of things I can do at work or the different opportunities that come my way. These priorities are also in line with what researcher Karl Pillemer found after interviewing thousands of adults over the age of 70 on their advice to live a fulfilling life.

The post Work is a rubber ball appeared first on Embrace Possibility.

Many of us, myself included, tend to see routines and rules as restrictive rather than beneficial. We often associate rules with discipline and punishment, rather than as tools that can help us achieve our goals. However, in the spirit of leading by example, I've been leveraging routines and rules in my own life to help improve my own health.

One health goal that I've personally struggled with is getting adequate sleep. Despite needing to wake up early most days, I would find myself struggling to fall asleep before midnight. I've read numerous books and written a few articles on sleep, but it wasn't until I learned more about Dr. Satchin Panda's research on the circadian rhythm did I finally find a solution that worked.

Dr. Panda's research shows that food and light are the inputs that help regulate our circadian rhythm. By understanding how to strike the balance around using our bodies in the best possible way, we can set rules and routines that will help us achieve our health goals.

Before I share the routines and rules that have helped me achieve better sleep, it's important to note that there is no one-size-fits-all solution. What works for me may not work for you. Therefore, it's essential to experiment and find what routines and rules work best for you.

Here are the ones that have helped me:

Routine 1: Eat between 12pm-8pm

Some call this intermittent fasting, while others refer to it as time-restricted eating. Regardless of the label, I found the idea of limiting my daily food intake to a specific window of time helpful in regulating my circadian rhythm. Dr. Panda's research shows that our bodies are designed to consume food during daylight hours, and we should refrain from eating late at night. By setting this routine, I've noticed that I sleep better and wake up feeling more rested.

Routine 2: Follow natural light

Our bodies are designed to respond to natural light, and exposure to bright light in the morning can help regulate the circadian rhythm and improve sleep. Conversely, exposure to blue light from electronic devices in the evening can interfere with sleep. I found spending time outside in the morning and limiting my use of electronic devices in the evening has helped with my sleep. I've also replaced the light bulbs in my bedroom with a dimmer orange light and changed my screen brightness settings on both my laptop (Night Light Feature) and phone to mimic natural light.

Routine 3: Practice relaxation techniques

Stress can be a major contributor to sleep issues, and incorporating relaxation techniques into your routine can help manage stress and promote better sleep. This can include practices such as meditation, deep breathing exercises, or yoga. Personally, I've found that practicing deep breathing exercises before bed helps calm my mind and prepare my body for sleep. You can see a short video demo of a simple relaxation technique from Dr. Herbert Benson of Harvard Medical School.

In addition to these specific routines, there are also some general rules that can promote overall health and wellness (you probably know these rules already, but the key question is whether you are putting them to practice on a daily basis):

Rule 1: Get ample, high-quality sleep

Getting enough sleep is essential for overall health and well-being, and most adults require 7-9 hours of sleep per night. To ensure a good night's sleep, it's important to create a sleep-conducive environment, such as keeping your bedroom cool, quiet, and dark. You may also want to avoid caffeine and alcohol late in the day.

Rule 2: Stay hydrated

Drinking enough water is important for many bodily functions, including regulating body temperature and aiding in digestion. Aim to drink at least 8 glasses of water per day, and more if you are physically active or in a hot environment. Some argue that you'll want to stop drinking water a few hours before you plan to sleep, so your urge to use the bathroom doesn't interrupt your sleep cycle.

Rule 3: Move your body

Regular physical activity is important for maintaining overall health and preventing chronic diseases such as heart disease and diabetes. Aim to get at least 30 minutes of moderate-intensity exercise most days of the week. Be creative about how you get your movement in every day. Some people like to use a step counter, while others park their car far away from the entrance so it forces them to walk. I personally enjoy walking meetings.

Rule 4: Eat real food that gives you sustained energy

There is so much advice on different diets that it can seem overwhelming in terms of figuring out what you should and shouldn't eat (especially when the advice is contradictory). What most experts can agree on is the importance to avoid processed and sugary foods and drinks. Balance and moderation are good ideas to keep in mind along with eating whole foods (foods that look like their natural form because they haven't been processed. For example, an apple is a whole food while apple pie is not a whole food since you can't find apple pies in nature.

By implementing these routines and rules into your daily life, you can help promote better health and wellness. Remember that consistency is key, and it's important to find routines and rules that work for you and your lifestyle. Whether it's limiting your food intake to a specific window of time, practicing relaxation techniques before bed, or staying hydrated throughout the day, small changes can add up to make a big difference in your overall health and well-being.

Photo by Some Tale

The post Health Hack: Unleashing the Transformative Power of Routines and Rules appeared first on Embrace Possibility.

So, how can you practically value your time over money?

Track your time

The first step to valuing your time is to track it. Use a time-tracking app or a simple spreadsheet to record how you spend your time. This will help you identify where your time is going and make more conscious decisions about how to spend your time. A few time wasters to flag when doing this exercise are any time you're spending to:

• Worry about what-ifs and what-if-nots
• Live and replay the past for whatever reason
• Fantasize about the future
• Take too long to decide on things that are reversible and matter very little (like what you're going to eat for lunch or whether or not you should buy those shoes on Amazon)

Set priorities and create a time budget

Once you have an idea of how you're spending your time, set priorities. What's most important to you? What do you value? Is it spending time with loved ones, pursuing a hobby, or advancing your career? Decide what matters most and make sure you're spending your time accordingly. One way to do that is to budget your time for the week to come and determine how much time you'll allocate to your key activities. This will help you make more intentional choices about how you spend your time. Take a moment and think about what you want your life to look like during your final years - who do you want around you? what would you like to accomplish? what physical condition would you like to be in? How you invest your time now will bring you either closer or further away from that vision.

Learn to say NO

Now that you have clarity about your vision of your life, you'll need to protect it by setting boundaries and saying no to things that don't align with your goals, value, and vision. Saying no can be difficult, but it's important if you want to value your time. If someone asks you to do something that doesn't align with your priorities, politely decline. This will free up your time for the things that matter most to you. A reframe that worked for me is to remember that saying yes to someone else is often saying no to myself.

Outsource and delegate

Often, when we track our time, we feel that everything we're doing right now is necessary to do. This may be true, but what isn't true is that you'll need to do everything yourself. Whenever possible, look for ways to outsource and delegate as many of your tasks as possible so you can free up your time (your most precious resource). Often, this will give others the opportunity to learn and grow and relieve you of tasks you may not want to do or do not fall into your area of expertise. You'll also be poised to take advantage of unexpected opportunities that may arise.

Avoid multitasking or being perfect

There is enough research now that shows multitasking is not only a less effective use of time but often a source of stress. You're better off focusing on one task at a time and giving it your full attention (assuming the task is an important one - I'm all for listening to a podcast while folding laundry). Another way to gain back time is to let go of perfectionism and the need to control every situation. Sometimes good enough is good enough. Don't spend excessive time on tasks that don't require it. This practice will help you feel more comfortable delegating to others.

Schedule downtime and take breaks

As part of your time budget, schedule downtime to recharge your batteries. Whether it's watching your favorite TV show or taking a walk outside, make sure you're taking breaks throughout the day to give your brain a rest. This is assuming that you're getting ample sleep. If you're not getting enough sleep, prioritize that in your time budget.

Practice mindfulness and be present

Mindfulness can help you stay focused on the present moment and become aware that each moment carries a choice around how you want to spend your time. By practicing mindfulness meditation, you can catch yourself slipping into poor uses of time and adjust. I found Dan Harris's book 10% Happier and Jon Kabat-Zinn's Mindfulness for Beginners a good place to start if you want to learn. Being present will allow you to fully enjoy the experience and value the time you're spending.

Invest your time like you invest any other important resource. Be intentional, deliberate, and rigorous. Your time is what makes up your life (4000 weeks), so spend it wisely. Click here for a visual representation of how much time you have left to invest (a la Tim Urban's post: The Tail End).

Photo by Aron Visuals 

The post How to Value Time Over Money appeared first on Embrace Possibility.

When writing this second book, I applied the lessons learned from writing my first book, The Dreams to Reality Fieldbook. I was expecting the unexpected to derail my writing and built in buffer time to manage that (unfortunately, I underestimated how much buffer time I needed). I knew I would need to "just get started" every day and overcome the myriad of great reasons for not starting. I also understood the importance of setting a goal and breaking it down into smaller pieces. Despite being equipped with these lessons learned, I still struggled with writing this second book since it differed from the first one in a few ways. The first book was self-published and this second book was published by Wiley, a well-known publisher. The first book was written mainly from my point of view. The second book had firsthand interviews and cited a number of research studies. The first book was 74 pages. The second book came out to 336 pages.

Writing this book was definitely a challenge, and at times, I felt like a rubber band stretched to the point of snapping. Luckily, I was able to hold it together, and came away with the following insights:

Persistence comes from knowing your Why.

Writing a book is tough. You have to keep track of what you wrote. You have to make sure you're making sense to someone who may not know what you know. You have to cut content that you feel is important. You question whether what you've written is any good, or if you're really in a position to be writing the book in the first place. There were many instances where it seemed easier and better just to call it quits. I was running a business, managing a family, teaching at a university, and volunteering for important causes. No one would fault me for taking one thing off my plate. The main thing that kept me going was my reason for writing this book: To help people who are inadvertently limiting their potential by shying away from sales or approaching it in a haphazard way. Having a why that is in service to others helped me to keep going. I've found that it's hard to keep going if your ambitious goal just serves you since it's easier to call it quits once things become very difficult for you.

Writing is a great way to learn.

I thought I was knowledgeable about sales and business development. That's why I decided to write the book. The process of putting my thoughts on paper and making sure all the pieces fit together without redundancy further crystallized and deepened my thinking. Being constrained on the number of words I could use also helped. Writing something down with the intention for someone else to understand it focuses you on challenging your own thinking and assumptions. You have to assess whether what you believe is actually true, or else the entire idea falls apart. In the words of Paul Graham, "Writing about something, even something you know well, usually shows you that you didn't know it as well as you thought."

Asking for help is a strength, not a weakness.

There were so many people who helped me along the way to complete this book project. Whether it was introducing me to my senior-level interviewees, improving my writing, or watching my kids during a marathon-writing weekend, this book would not be what it is if I decided to go with my initial gut reaction to go it alone. When writing a book, it's so easy to feel like you need to prove yourself by doing it alone or to believe the work is not truly yours if other people help you, but much of that thinking focuses on you, and not how you can best serve others. If you focus on how you'll contribute value to others, you'll naturally recognize that you'll want all the help you can get to best serve others. If you compare the first draft of this book to the final version, you would clearly see the power of asking for help.

Being happy with your work (at this point in time) and letting go is critical.

When I re-read my first book, I was slightly embarrassed. The black-and-white thinking, the unbridled enthusiasm, the self-focused tone. Yet, at that time, that book was my best work (I'm still proud of some of the ideas in there). If I had kept waiting for it to be a better book, I would have never released it to the world, and I likely wouldn't have written this second book. Part of any ambitious work is that you can always make it better, but at some point, you just have to put it out there so you can get real-world feedback. At the same time, it's important to recognize that just getting to this point of being able to ship has already changed you for the better. When it comes to writing, often the destination is secondary to the journey, and it's only when you stop to reflect that you realize how much you've grown from the experience.

Recognizing what is within your control and what isn't will help you focus on the right things.

Now that Selling Your Expertise has launched, I'm focused on getting the book's insights to people who might most benefit from them. That means speaking about the book on podcasts and at companies, trade association events, and industry conferences. What I'm not doing is tracking book sales since knowing how many books I've sold doesn't really help to raise the book's visibility. If anything, it'll likely distract me from my real work - talking about the book. Once book reviews come in, I plan to read them to better understand which ideas need more work and which ones are resonating (If you've purchased a book, please consider writing an Amazon review). Like my first book, some people will find it valuable and some will not. My goal is to figure out who will be better off with this knowledge and get the book in front of them. My other goal is not to worry about anything outside of my control.

I hope these lessons can be helpful to you as you plan to write a book or tackle an ambitious goal that has true meaning for you. If you enjoyed these tips, you may want to check out the 10 books I wished I read earlier in life or the top 10 insights that have changed my life. If you're interested in learning more about Selling Your Expertise, watch this video trailer. You might also like this updated list of my book and course recommendations.

The post Lessons Learned Writing My Second Book (Selling Your Expertise) appeared first on Embrace Possibility.

“Stop dragging the chair Jake!!”

He's been doing this on a  regular basis for over a year and it’s begun to feel like a battle of wills.  Each time we see it happen,  my wife and I  respond the same way. – we yell at him to stop and feel frustrated that he is not learning this lesson. 

As I reflect on this recurring scene, I realized that I’ve been looking at this situation in the wrong way. I interpret my son's repeat offense as insubordination when, in fact, his behavior continues, most likely, because he is so focused on achieving his goals.

The reason he drags the chair to the counter is because the charger for the iPad is on the counter. He wants to sit next to the counter so he can continue to play while the iPad is charging. That is his sole focus.

My goal is to prevent the floor from scuffing while the chair gets dragged across it. When I yell for my son to stop, I am singularly focused on achieving my goal and inadvertently become an obstacle to his achieving his goal. Similarly, when he drags the chair across the room, he is just focused on his achieving his goal and inadvertently becomes an obstacle to what I want. We each get into each other’s way without even knowing it. 

For me, the deeper insight comes from recognizing just how quickly and repeatedly I keep exerting my power over him to get what I want at the expense of what he wants. I justify this behavior by reminding myself that I am the adult and he is the 6-year old child. I go even further by telling myself that I’m teaching my son discipline and keeping him in line. Instead, if I took a few minutes to think about what he wanted, I could have made a structural change that allowed us each to achieve our goals. If I move the charger to the living room next to our couch, my son can sit there and play whenever he needs to charge his iPad.

Inadvertently, getting in each other's way happens all the time - at work, in school, during social gatherings. The next time you feel slighted or feel someone is repeatedly doing something you don’t want them to do, figure out why they are doing it that way. If you pay attention to the other person’s goal, you might find a way to both get what you want.

Remember, more often than not, it’s nothing personal. You just happen to be in their way.   

Photo by Ali Yahya

The post How we get in each other’s way without even knowing it appeared first on Embrace Possibility.

(click on book cover for more details)

Trillion Dollar Coach: The Leadership Playbook of Silicon Valley's Bill Campbell

• Published: April 2019
• ISBN-10: 0062839268
• EP Rating: 4 out of 5 (worth picking up)

EP Main Takeaway: "Your title makes you a manager. Your people make you a leader." To be effective, truly care about helping your people be successful. Show up, work hard, and have an impact every day. Building a healthy community is key to engaging your employees but individual success and ambition, although necessary, can be at odds with community-building efforts. Always keep learning. "If you've been blessed, be a blessing."

The post Trillion Dollar Coach – Bill Campbell Leadership Lessons by Eric Schmidt, Jonathan Rosenberg, and Alan Eagle appeared first on Embrace Possibility.