Accountability Fights ISOLATION

You’ve read the headlines, you’ve had the conversations; shoot, you’ve even felt the feelings. Isolation is almost inevitable unless you take a posture to fight it, proactively. What are you going to do when your number is called; when you inevitably feel like you’re facing life, alone? In a world where industries stand on the foundation of connecting humans, my guess is that you’ve struggled with never having felt more DISconnected. From a distance, you see withdrawal happening. You see people getting together without you. You remember the relationships you had, and you have just drifted apart. That’s the problem. You’re drifting. You’re on autopilot, going through the motions. When you’re not in the midst of driving a purpose, intimately involved with a mission, you feel lost. How have you or should I ask, how do you, deal with it?

I relied upon myself to get out of it. I was a self-sufficient man that didn’t understand the hypocrisy of the statement, self-sufficient man. Take it back to the beginning of time, back to Genesis. Man was not made to be alone so why in God’s creation did I think I could overcome His original design? Because I’m different, I thought. My scars are my own and I’ve got this. Adam didn’t have my scars, I’m different. I’ve written about this and with friends, I’ve discussed at length, this transformation that began 4 years ago. Ultimately, it was a transformation into the reality that my self-imposed isolation, based on the desire to live life my way, was no longer sustainable. Fortunately, my wife recognized an issue before I did and we began walking this, together.

Additionally, I opened up to more than just her. I sought counselling which opened my eyes to how my past was affecting my present. Seeking professional counsel was one of the best decisions. After all, when your heart isn’t right, you see the doctor. So, when my mind was “off,” I had to see the doctor. Then, I used the platform and leadership opportunities granted to me through F3 (f3nation.com) to start a difficult workout themed around exposing topics we, as men, deal with. This was when I truly began to fight male isolation head on. I noticed I wasn’t alone. I was with men, who later became brothers, that were fighting similar fights. Brothers to my left and right, whom I was doing burpees with, running suicide sprints with, and running miles alongside, who cared about my struggle. The beauty of this was I cared about their struggle, too. We didn’t just listen to each other, we pushed each other. These men wanted to shoulder my struggle with me. They demanded that my fight was not to be done alone. We questioned each other and ultimately, held each other accountable to change.

It’s the “accountability” that requires further excavation. You can’t hold yourself accountable. You can try but you will fail; you need to be accountable to a person or to a standard. We are great salespeople and we’ll sell ourselves to justify our actions. Going back 4 years, I justified my emotionless exterior as an anchor I was allowed to drag through life. You didn’t know what I was fighting inside so therefore, you couldn’t judge me for acting as I did. The moment that reality came into focus and I had the courage to share the discovery with a few men one morning, my ability to retreat to that historical place of comfort was gone. No longer, could I justify my immaturity while feeling sorry for myself. When I felt those feelings begin to bubble up again, I found those men who knew my story, or, what happened more often, those men found me where I was. They would ask questions, trigger a response, then boom, I was caught. I was caught and they knew the truth. That is accountability and it works. Any man who says they’re holding themselves accountable is uncomfortable making the changes they know they need to make.

As men, we can be masters of self-deception. We’re so good at justifying our behavior that we can build a narrative based off a belief we want to be true. I wanted to justify my belief that I was different. I deceived myself, both consciously and subconsciously, until I was tired of the funk I found myself in. In F3, we call it the Flux, the emotional reactions to life’s ups and downs.

I’ve been blessed to walk with other men over the years who have gone through tough stuff, way more than just their own Flux. In some cases, they’ve justified their actions and beliefs due to the circumstances. Situations often begin with a small frustration the man was unwilling to address through relationship candor. That frustration evolves into a thought, then a bigger thought. Those thoughts turn into actions which grow and build upon each other. Eventually, minor frustration turns into life-altering deception, driving the man into isolation and further destruction. Why? In part because he isn’t open enough to engage in hard, challenging but loving, accountability-based relationships.

As men, when we face an obstacle that looks like accountability, we can isolate and convince ourselves we’re right and everyone else is wrong. If I’m right, to what am I being held accountable? We’re then left alone wondering where our support system has gone and how we got ourselves into the mess we did. Mike Tyson said, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” The reality of isolation is like getting punched in the mouth. When you retreat to your corner, you’re left picking up the pieces caused by your own behavior. You see this in public, your neighborhood, your family, even yourself. When I chose not to engage in my own irritations, I justified my actions and found myself emotionally isolated. The most embarrassing part of this narrative, I did it to myself.

So, what do we do now? What if you’ve isolated yourself for so long that now you’re convinced there is no turning back? You’ve burned bridges and severed relationships. What now? It’s the same way you keep from going deeper down the hole you find yourself in. You stop. You stop digging and stop retreating. You send a text. You make a call. You reach out. It really can start there; by taking the posture to fight the past. Own your mistakes and verbalize them. Identify the actions that triggered them. Otherwise, you’ll try holding yourself accountable to something you’ve not fully embraced. Find another man you can trust and have the tough conversations. Extend your arm, grab hold and allow yourself to be pulled out of isolation. You are known and you are loved. The world misses you and needs you back in the fight.

The Difficult Produces Growth

I struggle with how to put this into words, but I’ve come to realize that I do not grow when setting out to accomplish easy objectives? Technological and social advances aimed at improving our everyday lives, may make us more efficient, but what lessons and what growth are we missing out on when we are consistently able to avoid discomfort? This has made me soft in some ways. What’s more, at times I know I’ve flocked toward those easier things rather than face the pain of not knowing how or being able to complete the harder thing. I’ve cowered away from the learning process (try, fail, try again, succeed). Then it’s perpetuated. I don’t learn what it’s like to overcome adversity so therefore, I avoid adverse situations.

Over time, I have learned that much of my confidence is born out of my participation in physically challenging events. These events have evolved over the years, but the harder they are or the longer they last, the better and the more I learn about myself. There is something about completing an objective that is taxing, be it physical, mental or emotionally taxing, that builds a level of self-confidence difficult to put into words. For several years, I talked about multi-day, endurance events, but for one reason or many, I avoided registering. Some would say, those events are just crazy to even think about, yet for me, I saw them as a dream. Two years ago, I finally caught hold of that dream when I began my pursuit of the “bolts.”

I was joined by 3 other men who would help me stare down my demons and take a run at completing the most physically demanding event I’d attempted to date. It was the GORUCK HTL which stands for Heavy Tough Light. GORUCK conducts endurance events modeled after military training exercises to challenge the participants in just about every imaginable way. This Heavy was roughly 24hrs and covered 40 miles; the Tough lasted 12hrs and covered 20 miles, while the Light consisted of 6hrs covering 10 miles. In between each event, we had a few hours to recover and re-fire our spirits. These events test you individually while also requiring you to operate as a team. More information can be found at www.goruck.com.

These bolts I mentioned are three lightning bolts stitched on a 2” x 3” Velcro™-style patch to be worn on a Ruck, a tactical hat or displayed on a patch board. That’s it. No money or recognition. No plaque or medal. Just the feeling of completion and a newfound respect for not only those who joined you in this pursuit, but also respect for yourself, and the surge in confidence that comes from completing such an event. The patch symbolizes the work, the shared suffering, the demons overcome. The patch welcomes you to the comradery of a few. The patch became the target I ran toward a few years ago. The early morning training, the two-a-day workouts, marathon distance rucks, slinging a ton of weight and shared suffering with 3 other men, Jeff Parker, Matt Sheridan and Phillip Thorne; that was where the bond and true confidence was built. That patch reminds me of the confidence I should have in myself.

I would have never completed, much less attempted, the GORUCK HTL without these men by my side. They knew the headspace I was in. Physically, I knew I could do it, but mentally, that is where I lacked confidence. These men saw to it that I wouldn’t train alone and each of them had their own motivation. These guys are different, obviously. They are the ones you call in case of emergency. They are the ones that can see the look in my eyes and without a single word, know what’s next. I’m blessed to have a number of men like that in my life and I hope you have those people, too.

There was one early Saturday morning workout we had planned, but due to a conflict, I couldn’t join them. I was bummed. I tried to get over it but honestly, I was in a funk. They learned I couldn’t join them and I was going to attempt the scheduled workout on my own. They changed their plans and showed up in my driveway early that morning so we could complete it, together. The workout sucked, in a good way. It was brutal. One of us threw out their back. Another essentially dislocated a hip. Looking back, we all agreed, that workout would’ve been almost impossible if attempted solo. But what made it possible, even memorable, was that we sought the difficult with accountability by our side. Had we settled for the easy, our goal would never have been possible. We would have embraced the excuses and settled for what most see as comfortable. But, why would we do that? We wouldn’t. Or should I say, we shouldn’t. Rather, together we sought the difficult, knowing it would build a new level of confidence we’d later need. In the early morning hours or the heat of the afternoon during the Heavy, that never-quit confidence most certainly came into play.

These experiences of pushing myself further than I thought possible, have made me question what other areas of my life I have opted for what is comfortable or easy rather than raising the stakes to do the harder thing. How about the time I didn’t have the hard conversation with my wife because I was scared of how it could expose my own weakness? What about at work? What about the time I kept my hand in my pocket rather than raise it to take on a difficult project? What did I learn then? I learned that I’m scared. I learned that I lacked confidence. I learned that my growth would be delayed.

When I let fear or apathy drive my decisions and I am too afraid to take on the difficult, I fail. I learned 2 years ago that true growth comes in the midst of discomfort. I learned that my mental strength is just like my physical strength; it only grows when it is tested, stretched, and possibly, torn. I’ll only truly know what I’m capable of when I test myself and go beyond the limits I impose.

I should’ve realized this years ago when a great example, my wife, set out to start her own business. It was a scary time. She had constant questions swirling in her head. Where would my patients come from? How would I pay the bills? Who would watch the kids? What if I fail? Would that make me a failure? Similar questions that keep us from embarking on any new journey. The fear of the unknown, the uncomfortable, can be the largest barrier to realizing growth. That barrier keeps us from realizing the confidence that lies beneath.

She’s accomplished so much since starting her business; beyond the obvious. Leadership growth, thriving during a pandemic, learning how to handle personnel decisions, and serving a community in a way God has uniquely equipped her for, are all examples of growth that would’ve never happened had she not embraced the difficult. Watching her navigate this unknown has reinforced for us both that stepping out into the difficult is worth it. It’s where we grow, and get to see God at work in, and through our lives.

Where will you find your patch? What limitations have you put on yourself that are keeping you comfortable? What growth are you giving up on? Take that first step in charging after the difficult. You might just learn you’re capable of more than you thought.

You Are What You Eat

You’ve heard this before. It was likely in elementary school when you heard another kid say, “You are what you eat.” You rolled your eyes, walked away and wondered, what does that even mean? As an adult I know, if I eat certain foods, I feel heavy, even sluggish. I enjoy the flavor of it going down but once it’s down, I don’t enjoy the resulting feeling nearly as much. If I eat simple, whole, less processed foods, I feel better. If what I eat has been processed or altered, my body feels altered and not quite right.

There is another saying that “you’ll become the average of the 5 people you surround yourself with”. Maybe it’s 5 or possibly 10, but rather than get caught in the specifics, let’s look at the intent. If we surround ourselves with people of character who are looking to improve, we’ll be pulled into betterment. However, if we surround ourselves with people prone to negativity or questionable integrity, we will likely become negative and settle on something short of the target. If they complain, we think complaining is the norm. However, if those close friends are focused on disrupting the status quo through acceleration, we know where we are headed. In other words, it is difficult to be anything other than a product of your environment, therefore, we must make a concerted effort to intentionally choose our environment.

During my career, I’ve been blessed to work with several good managers, but one truly stands above the rest as a great leader. He spoke truth, faced difficult situations head on, stayed focused during distractions and developed our team to do more than we thought we were capable of. We had strategic goals as a team, but inevitably, daily distractions attempted to veer us off course. They were short-term temptations that could be counterproductive to our strategy if we let them become our new aim.

Our work environment was challenging by business standards. We were facing inflation pressures, new or rising tariffs, an influx of competition and company in-fighting with sales teams competing for corporate resources. I could get emotionally caught up in the possibilities, whereas this leader would stay aligned on the facts. I knew he could get passionate about a situation, but facts, and his vision, guided our steps. He led with a calming presence. He would ask questions like, “How does this help?” or “Do you KNOW that to be true OR, do you THINK that is true?” These were intentional questions for me to consume and it would quickly work to eliminate or lessen the anxiety in most situations.

It’s amazing how I felt about work when I was consuming what he was providing. He was the most challenging manager I’ve worked under, yet I appreciated him and learned more in that environment than any other. He provided clarity and fact-based decisions. He kept me out of the anxiety-based emotions that could lead to believing the worst-case scenario would become reality. When working under his leadership, my mind was clearer, not clouded by fear. My eyes were focused ahead, not looking over my shoulder. He kept us focused on the goals. He chose not to get caught in rumors or negativity; he was intentional on what he chose to consume.

These lessons have been important for me over the past few years as the level of fear that is being dished out through news outlets, social media, and other avenues has exceeded what we thought imaginable. The more dramatic a story, the more it invokes our fear response, and the more eyes it attracts. We call this click bait. Pull up the news and read the headlines which are written with words tied more to emotion than information. Words like attack, mockery, argue, inflamed, hell, messy, crippling. The goal is for us, the consumer, to be shocked by the headline and get sucked into following additional links to drive clicks, dependence, then revenue. This language is not an accident, nor is it innocent. It is designed to make us think we can’t live without consuming more of it. It’s an addiction we’ve trained our minds to not live without. And it works.

What do you think happens to your mind after consuming this fear-inducing content? I know that my mind often becomes angry, sad, annoyed, unforgiving, and sometimes entitled. I feel justified at my emotional peak, like having taken a hit of pure sugar. But just like sugar, these emotional swings often lead to a crash. So, why do we continue to consume such toxic information? Because these news agencies, no, these agencies of opinioned journalism, are experts at getting us addicted to their content. The only chance we have for change is when we, who arguably know better, decide to rise above the noise and change what we consume.

In the past, my consumption habits had me convinced my opinion was always right. If you and I didn’t agree on what I saw as the truth, I became fixated on trying to convince you that I was right. Reading that, I’m embarrassed by my past ways. How could I, flawed as I am, ever have believed that I was the source of truth? That honor goes to Jesus, and Jesus alone. He says I am to be patient, kind, forgiving, loving and strong. I cannot be those things if I am consuming what much of today’s world is offering. I cannot exhibit those traits if I am surrounding myself with emotionally driven people who deal in anger, anxiety and fear. I will not live the life I need to live if I allow anxiety-based fear to roar louder than truth-based love.

I’ve realized that when anxiety gets a foothold in my mind it can lead to sustained fear, and I can spiral.  Consuming content from sources that are motivated by getting me to buy their narratives rather than building up a foundation for good, makes me nothing more than their puppet. So, I’m done. I’ve drawn a line in the sand. I can no longer be the consumer of opinion-based negativity. While truth isn’t always rosy, it’s based on facts, not opinions. It’s time we critically ingest the information around us rather than be baited into swallowing lies.

So, what are you consuming? Are you falling for the short-term emotional hit of fear? Or, are you cutting through the fog to recognize truth? Does what you consume have such a grip on your mind that it’s become your everyday reality? Is it the emotional version of the addictive sugar? How is that helping you become a better version of yourself? Are you the angry, judgmental, sarcastic, short-fused, impatient, mascot of a man that is way too prevalent in 2021? If you are ready to put an end to the nonsense, join me. Be a man that speaks truth in love. Be the man that is grounded in truth with convictions based on morals. Be strong. Make the hard decisions to change what you consume.

Why Run?

To lose weight, improve health, train for a race or manage stress. These are but a few of the many motivations for running. Initially, mine was to complete a half marathon, then a full marathon, then overnight relay races, then 50K’s. The side benefits were health and stress-related but it didn’t start there. It is interesting to look back on my life and see how the road was full of left and right turns to get to where I am today. When I ran that first race, I couldn’t have possibly known where the road would lead 10+ years later. It’d be foolish to think I can predict where the road will take me 10 years from today.

When I started that adventure in 2009, I knew my motivation. As life evolved and I ran more, I saw it as an outlet to help manage obstacles. If dinner included two large plates, that next morning would include a hard workout or a long run. If the stress of the day ran higher than usual, that evening would include a run. If I was missing fellowship with a friend, I’d send a text for a buddy-run and hope it fell on receptive ears. While motivations changed, they would fall into one of two categories. I was either running from or running toward something. Running from included the meal choices, an elevated stress level or life’s frustrations. Running toward were more positive, like training, mind clearing or catching up.

But what about in other areas of my life? Are there places in my life where I am trying to run from reality rather than run intentionally forward? As I think back, there have been times when I have put my name in the hat for a job change yet know my motivation for the position could be questioned.   Am I actually excited about a new opportunity and feel it will take me forward to achieving a career goal, or could I just not stand the thought of another Groundhog Day? Is my current situation so unbearable that I truly believe anything will be better? Is there greener grass? In other words, am I running away, or am I running towards something?

Maybe the situation isn’t work driven; maybe it’s relationship driven. I need to go meet a friend for a beer because if I go home, I’m going to lose it. My wife doesn’t understand what I deal with everyday yet when I come home, it seems as if I can’t do anything right. As men, we yearn for respect. We’ll seek out opportunities where other people or groups respect us for who we are or for what we bring to the table. If I’m a good accountant, it’s understandable that I would find opportunities to perform accounting functions, especially if others find accounting difficult. If I’m a good salesman, I’ll be attracted to situations where I can engage with others and use my persuasive personality for advantageous reasons. On the other hand, if I am that accountant or salesman yet come home and feel the pressure of not being a good enough husband, father or provider, I’ll seek out other avenues where my respect card is punched.

Several years ago, I had blinders on and saw how the world, at least my little piece of it, was not showing me the respect I was due. Never mind the notion that I already built up the negativity in my mind before I even walked in the door after a day at work. I felt I was being realistic. My wife had a full-time job and we had three young kids. Those three young kids had homework to do and other activities to get to. I didn’t expect my wife to have an apron on in the kitchen making a large Sunday spread on a Wednesday. That’s ridiculous. In my head, all I wanted, or so I thought, was to be acknowledged when I walked in the door. You kids can’t even press pause on the show (much less look up from it) and my wife couldn’t give me more than what amounted to a head nod? Where did I mess this up?

The blinders kept me from seeing what was really going on. Let’s replay the scene again with a little more context. I would pull into the driveway and already, I had created this scene bound for disrespect. In sales, I could convince others, yet this time, I had convinced myself disrespect awaited me on the other side of that door. In my mind, I had already put the expectations on my undeserving family, and they were doomed for failure. What I didn’t tell you was that my wife’s hands were in the midst of making dinner and she looked at me and winked. She had every intention of giving me a hug and a kiss, showing me respect, yet her hands were creating something for us to enjoy, together. As for the kids, guess what? They’re kids, not robots. They’re going to be engrossed in a show, a song or a game and just because I entered the house and took their oxygen, doesn’t mean their world must stop. I realize now, I want them to respect AND love me, not fear me.

While these self-concocted scenarios existed only in my mind, I found myself avoiding what was driving them. I had issues that needed to be uncovered and addressed. I was running away from accountability and running towards blame. I should’ve been running away from selfishness and toward my family for security or to my faith for validation. I missed the respect they were giving me many times to instead focus on the few times where their “lack” of overt respect was convenient for my narrative.

What about you? Are you running from life and therefore running towards distraction? Do you lack contentment with your surroundings and look for the excuse to escape? Do you use phrases like “I can’t wait to get away?” Let me ask you to put yourself in your kids’ or your wife’s shoes and imagine how this statement may be perceived. Imagine your dad saying, “I can’t wait to get away (…from you).” Think if you heard your dad say this; you’d think he was running away from a moment that involved you.  Our words carry weight.  Our actions have an effect.

Are our desires for change driven by a passion or excitement to move towards something great, or is it more somber? Is our desire for movement driven by a feeling that we cannot stay put and must flee? Are we running towards something good, or are we running away from something that is troubling us?  Whatever the motivation, we must be honest with ourselves, clear with our intentions, and aware of any potential blind spots that actually need to be dealt with, not ignored. This past year, we have all been challenged. Whether you’ve been working from home, lost a job, dealt with money issues, faced health concerns or lost a loved one, there has been every reason to ‘run away’ from life. But the real growth comes when we lean in and, rather, run towards a better version of ourselves. The version where we know ourselves and are known by others. That’s worth getting up each morning. That’s worth running towards.

This is my second attempt to connect with the men of F3 through writing as we are all embarking on new stages in life. While not exclusive to F3, I think most men in F3 will connect with some small piece in here.

It’s Ok to Not Be Those Things

Sitting with my Shieldlock recently, the following statement was made, “It’s ok to not be those things.” It hit me. Why do we, me at the front of the line, spend so much effort focusing on who we aren’t rather than who we are? Couldn’t it be that who we aren’t, isn’t even realistic and therefore, we’re striving after fiction? After all, if we’re to be true to ourselves, shouldn’t we be content with not being that other person?

I was raised in an environment where the focus was being myself and not succumbing to the whims of others. But man, that’s hard. I wanted to be part of that crowd; the crowd I was convinced was cooler than I was and had more than I did. Maybe if I acted their way, spoke their way, dressed their way; that would be my ticket to acceptance. Would those be the things that would punch my ticket? In hindsight, the answer is obvious.

So, why did I spend years seeking and reaching for that acceptance? Was that going to get me invited to the sought-after event or what’s more, would it fill a void I had?

Truth is, I have spent the better part of my life not truly knowing myself. There, I said it. I was a grown man in my 30’s with a beautiful wife, great kids, nice house, involved in the community, a few event medals, good job, etc. when I realized I didn’t actually know myself. I didn’t realize the burden of wanting to be accepted that I was carrying around or, if I did realize it, I wasn’t strong enough to step out from it.

This led to the eventual construction of a façade. The façade I wanted the world to see so I’d be accepted for what I thought I needed to be. The façade. I refer to it often and it’s empowering to admit that I no longer feel the need to hide behind it. My façade was made up of a stoic exterior that could never admit to not knowing or not being able to do something. I didn’t ask for help, I rarely smiled, I said yes to prove that I could do it or because I thought it would alleviate pressure from others. This would often manifest itself in physical activities. Let me go run this errand, pick up this person, clean this up, or change my schedule. These are a few ways in which I performed in order to be accepted. I was ok with someone else not being able to do this but I was convinced, I had to perform this way. I wanted the world to be real with me while I would remain behind the safe façade I’ve established.

Maybe you can relate. Here in 2020, many of us are working from home with kids that are schooling from home. My struggle is finding the harmony as an employee that wants to get everything done on time, hit the sales number, develop a team, know the most about the business and yet on the other hand, be the same guy that when his 3 kids are taking a break from school will go outside and play volleyball with them in the middle of the workday. But what about my meeting? How do I do both? I don’t want to look back on this time with regret for not spending every possible moment with my kids, yet I don’t want to come up short on my work responsibilities. How do I handle the frustrations of wanting to show a work ethic while loving my kids more than work? How am I supposed to do all of these, perfectly? What will the world say when they hear I said no to my kids’ request? Will they see me as a failure of a dad? Who am I performing for?

Or, what if a career sales & marketing guy said he wasn’t an entrepreneur? Up until recently, if I’m interviewing candidates for a sales position and they let it slip that they weren’t entrepreneurial, that interview would be over. I wouldn’t dare utter those words myself. Why? Because I allowed my value to be determined by a trait that others could easily categorize. If I can explain my position and explain what I’m good at, people understand. If you’re looking for someone to hit a number, empower and develop a team and build a culture, I’m your guy. But it’s unlikely that I’m going to be the one to go start a business and FINALLY, I’m comfortable enough to say that without feeling unworthy in the business world.

While it’s tempting to revert to these concerns, I am comfortable and beyond content to say that my G.A.S. (Give A S…) factor around what the world judges me on is quite low. Or, as I hinted at earlier, maybe I was assuming the world was judging me and it’s really not true; I’m judging myself based on fiction. What if I were to reveal a struggle on social media? I think that’s possible and encouraged but too often, we don’t allow ourselves to be real, in public. We’ve allowed a good thing to infect our minds and therefore, control our opinions of others. Guess what, I’m not perfect. I struggle in areas. But you know what? I’m ok with you knowing that and if you’re in my inner circle, we’re going to talk about our struggles…face-to-face. When I ask how you’re doing, I mean it. Don’t respond with “good” and move on. If I’m asking, I care.

It’s ok to struggle or to say no. It’s ok to dream. It’s ok to talk about being less than perfect. Over 2,000 years ago, the world was introduced to perfection. I know in my head, I don’t have to be perfect. I’m a work in progress when it comes to transferring that head knowledge to true heart knowledge and living that out. I’m a work in progress on the path to understanding that it’s ok to not be those things I used to measure myself against.