On my 29th birthday I gathered with friends and promised that last year in my 20s would be just as exciting as the previous nine, if not, then better. I believe it was the latter. What a year! As I turned 30 a few months ago, I’ve not been overwhelmed by the milestone, but I did reflect on the lessons I’ve learned through the years.
10. Worrying is like a rocking chair. It will give you something to do, but it gets you nowhere.
9. Mom was wrong – it’s ok to talk to strangers
I moved to California and knew a handful of people. Literally, I knew less than five. Today, I’ve been told I’m one of the most connected people around (at least at Boeing). I’m often asked how I do it. It does take a bit of motivation and work, but honestly I just seek out the most interesting thing people have to offer and remember that. I have a list of aspirational contacts and play the Kevin Bacon game to figure a way to meet them.
8. If you want to make friends, empathize
Remember this, the two things people love to hear: their own name and ‘yes’. Additionally, consider putting yourself in others shoes. Don’t give pity, but rather try to relate to people. I’ve moved around a bunch in my career and empathizing with those in a different position than me always gets their attention.
7. The only competitive advantage we have is our reputation
I remember the first year Boeing had a commitment to ethics day. This professor from ASU spoke and she said that our reputation would be the only competitive advantage we could guarantee. Boy was she ever right. I’ve made a point to invest time to damage control. Thankfully I’m not like Brittany or Paris, but I have worked hard at maintaining a positive image and being known as a person who works hard.
6. Attitude isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.
Years ago, one director used to tell me in our meetings that I needed to be more positive. I laugh now, because I can’t even remember being negative. I’ve learned that I have a choice about my attitude and I chose for it to be positive. It took me a while, but the story about Michael the kind of guy you love to hate helped me out.
My Nike's Believe in the Run Entry.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
“Earthquakes and Sharks to Start Us Off”
One of my favorite songs on my Ipod is “Earthquakes and Sharks” by Brandtson. The song talks about the warnings of Mexico and California. You know “black bears, heat, polluted air.” Don’t forget about “traffic jams beyond compare.”
Last July the song’s complaints were once again verified with a 5.4 earthquake to the LA area. This was my six or seventh earthquake, but one I would not soon forget. News reports say it lasted a few seconds. Everyone I talked with agreed it felt like a few minutes. The thing about earthquakes is you don’t know how long they will last or how big they will be. I have no shame in admitting that I was scared. Thanks to structural engineering, my house out lasted the quake with no damage.
Immediately after, the news was covered with stories on earthquake safety, dangers and projections for “the big one.” Even so, I still don’t worry much (you'll read more about lessons to learn from Van Wilder ). My main motivation is that I know that I live it up every day. I have no regrets. The earthquake reminded me why I chose the career path I did. I chose three years ago that my career path would not direct me to run the Boeing Company, but instead to develop the future leaders. “All you take with you when you're gone, is what you leave behind.” I spent the majority of last summer speaking with hundreds of Boeing interns on their future careers. I would start with identifying their likes and dislikes, then determine their goals and the motivation for them, before finally setting action plans to achieve those goals. Bill George, author of True North, says that when you work in the area motivates you the most you are operating in the “sweet spot” and perform your best.
Life is short, live your dreams. I do every day. Thanks to everyone who has helped me get ranked at the top of Nike's Believe in the Run Contest. Contest is still on going.
Last July the song’s complaints were once again verified with a 5.4 earthquake to the LA area. This was my six or seventh earthquake, but one I would not soon forget. News reports say it lasted a few seconds. Everyone I talked with agreed it felt like a few minutes. The thing about earthquakes is you don’t know how long they will last or how big they will be. I have no shame in admitting that I was scared. Thanks to structural engineering, my house out lasted the quake with no damage.
Immediately after, the news was covered with stories on earthquake safety, dangers and projections for “the big one.” Even so, I still don’t worry much (you'll read more about lessons to learn from Van Wilder ). My main motivation is that I know that I live it up every day. I have no regrets. The earthquake reminded me why I chose the career path I did. I chose three years ago that my career path would not direct me to run the Boeing Company, but instead to develop the future leaders. “All you take with you when you're gone, is what you leave behind.” I spent the majority of last summer speaking with hundreds of Boeing interns on their future careers. I would start with identifying their likes and dislikes, then determine their goals and the motivation for them, before finally setting action plans to achieve those goals. Bill George, author of True North, says that when you work in the area motivates you the most you are operating in the “sweet spot” and perform your best.
Life is short, live your dreams. I do every day. Thanks to everyone who has helped me get ranked at the top of Nike's Believe in the Run Contest. Contest is still on going.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
"One Day I Just Started Running"
I wanted to start a blog to help others understand how to find their passion and get as much out of life as I do. It took a series of major events for me to find the focus I have today. I'd hope that through sharing my stories and advice that the world will be a better place for you. Here is where my story begins...
It was a warm June day in New York City in 2007, but unusually dry compared a typical humid summer days. That was the day I began to believe in the run. A few months later my sister’s boyfriend asked if I just got up one morning and decided to run. I laughed and said, that’s exactly what happened.
On the morning of June 5, 2007, my mother succumbed to a seven year battle with lung cancer and I spent the rest of that day beginning to realize my life had changed forever with the loss my second parent. The following morning, I woke up with a ton of emotions: sadness, emptiness, and anger. The anger was from the years that I allowed my mother to smoke and not challenge her decision. I lived 3,000 miles away in LA and decided it was not my place to confront her. On that morning the anger built so much I just decided to run. I couldn’t tell you how far, how fast or for how long I ran, but it felt good. I ran to clear my mind. I ran to rid myself of the anger. I ran through the pain and the tears. I ran to find peace with myself and all my emotions. I spent a month in NYC that summer with my family and I ran more than I ever had in my life.
During the next year I ran some 300 miles. I ran a series of races: 5k, 5mi, 10k, a half marathon and on what would have been my mothers’ 60th Birthday (January 13th) I ran 26.2 miles across the mild Arizona desert in my first marathon. I ran on sand, on pavement, on dirt, on gravel and even through Camp Pendleton’s mud. I rain in the morning, in the rain and one day in chilling 10 degree day. Through each day was a story and those I’ll share with you on this blog.
The pain that was there a few months earlier was gone. Still I didn’t know what the run had done for me, so I put in for the 2008 ING NYC Marathon that spring. The run had grown so much on me that I didn’t see a reason to stop.
Those around didn't seem to understand. Some thought I was crazy. I thought I was crazy. My need and my push to run seemed like a sort of meditation. The anger and sadness don’t last when I run. I consider it spending time with my parents and the goals have given me focus.
(The final paragraph of this posting was part of a Nike contest that says why I believe in the run)
I woke on the morning of June 5 and knew it was the day of NYC Marathon lottery. I knew I’d find myself in the race, because as my brother said it was fate. It had been exactly a year since my life had changed and when I started running. On Nov 2, I returned to NY to run those grueling 26.2 miles across my home town, where my parents raised me, past the hospital I was born, past the yard where I played and the schools where I learned. It had been 500 miles of running since my mother passed, but not until I reached Central Park that I realized it. With millions cheering louder than the volume of my headphones I realized it. Knowing that my brothers & sisters stood at the finish line I realized it. I thought I’d ran a race for them, but I realized I ran for me. I realized they believe in me & that made me who I’ve become in my life. I realized I believe in the run.
It was a warm June day in New York City in 2007, but unusually dry compared a typical humid summer days. That was the day I began to believe in the run. A few months later my sister’s boyfriend asked if I just got up one morning and decided to run. I laughed and said, that’s exactly what happened.
On the morning of June 5, 2007, my mother succumbed to a seven year battle with lung cancer and I spent the rest of that day beginning to realize my life had changed forever with the loss my second parent. The following morning, I woke up with a ton of emotions: sadness, emptiness, and anger. The anger was from the years that I allowed my mother to smoke and not challenge her decision. I lived 3,000 miles away in LA and decided it was not my place to confront her. On that morning the anger built so much I just decided to run. I couldn’t tell you how far, how fast or for how long I ran, but it felt good. I ran to clear my mind. I ran to rid myself of the anger. I ran through the pain and the tears. I ran to find peace with myself and all my emotions. I spent a month in NYC that summer with my family and I ran more than I ever had in my life.
During the next year I ran some 300 miles. I ran a series of races: 5k, 5mi, 10k, a half marathon and on what would have been my mothers’ 60th Birthday (January 13th) I ran 26.2 miles across the mild Arizona desert in my first marathon. I ran on sand, on pavement, on dirt, on gravel and even through Camp Pendleton’s mud. I rain in the morning, in the rain and one day in chilling 10 degree day. Through each day was a story and those I’ll share with you on this blog.
The pain that was there a few months earlier was gone. Still I didn’t know what the run had done for me, so I put in for the 2008 ING NYC Marathon that spring. The run had grown so much on me that I didn’t see a reason to stop.
Those around didn't seem to understand. Some thought I was crazy. I thought I was crazy. My need and my push to run seemed like a sort of meditation. The anger and sadness don’t last when I run. I consider it spending time with my parents and the goals have given me focus.
(The final paragraph of this posting was part of a Nike contest that says why I believe in the run)
I woke on the morning of June 5 and knew it was the day of NYC Marathon lottery. I knew I’d find myself in the race, because as my brother said it was fate. It had been exactly a year since my life had changed and when I started running. On Nov 2, I returned to NY to run those grueling 26.2 miles across my home town, where my parents raised me, past the hospital I was born, past the yard where I played and the schools where I learned. It had been 500 miles of running since my mother passed, but not until I reached Central Park that I realized it. With millions cheering louder than the volume of my headphones I realized it. Knowing that my brothers & sisters stood at the finish line I realized it. I thought I’d ran a race for them, but I realized I ran for me. I realized they believe in me & that made me who I’ve become in my life. I realized I believe in the run.
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