Friend first…G.M. second. My time with Jo-Anne Polak aka JP Superstar

I had forgotten that she was given the nickname, JP Superstar! Wow, how time flies. I may have forgotten her nickname but I will not ever for forget how she personalized professional football.

I of course refer to Jo-Anne Polak, the first female General Manager in professional football.

 

For the many who don’t know and sadly, for those who forgot, Jo-Anne joined the Ottawa Rough Riders in 1987 and was named the teams business manager in December 1988. The title should have been Business Miracle Worker! She became co-GM with then head coach Steve Goldman a month later! As general manager, Polak became the first woman to hold an executive role in the Canadian Football League and the first woman general manager of a North American sports team. She held the position of general manager until stepping down in November 1991. I first met her in the off-season of 1989. I was heading into the locker room for a workout and she was there hosting a tour and working on her latest marketing marvel to re-connect fans to a team that had under-achieved like no other. The team’s hopes had been placed on the shoulders of Canadian RB Orville Lee, QB Damon Allen and K Dean Dorsey. Lee was drafted 1st overall the previous year, Dorsey had returned after a stint with the Philadelphia Eagles and Allen arrived from Edmonton thanks to his connection with Head Coach Steve Goldman . The team also acquired warrior OL Gerald Roper and Rob Smith in 1989. Smitty beat Matthew McConaughey to punch when it came to not needing an excuse to go shirtless! All were significant pieces in the effort to build a team that could compete. 

Truth be told, Jo-Anne inherited a 6 ring circus. I could go on about my teammates and their love for Jo and I could go on about how she changed the football landscape in Ottawa and how she excelled in what was an “old boys” setting but that would be too easy and too obvious.

Yes, when we got our pay cheques the morning after a game we would  indeed race to the RBC on Bank St. and First Avenue before team meetings, to get them cashed knowing full well that there may not be enough money in the teams account to cover the payroll! Forever teammates but in that moment, arch enemies! Nothing personal but I got to get paid! Some guys got paid and some guys came back pissed off! Funny how you could pick them out in the crowd!

I could go on about the charity hockey game between the Rough Riders and the Perth OPP and how it got out of hand real quick, like at the drop of the puck. Ah, alpha males!!  Jo was our “coach” and she got out from behind the bench real fast. As the competitive energy rose, she took on this panicked look on her face! She booked it away from the bench and into the stands despite our assurances that all would be fine. She arrived worrying about  about branding and selling and was now worried about a full line brawl! Yes, Damon Allen always played the wing furthest away from the bench so he could extend his shift to about 7 minutes at a time and yes, Loyd Lewis would undo his skates between each shift and get riled up when he would miss a shift as he laced back up!

For me it was about her leadership under very personal and challenging life experiences.

The first came on July 5th, 1989. We had played the Toronto Argonauts the night before in pre-season play. Guys were on pins and needles knowing the roster was being cut down. I was in a special teams film session when I was told Head Coach Steve Goldman wanted to see me. There was a pause in the entire room. Was I being cut? Perhaps traded? I had a great training camp and had really found my groove going into my 2nd year as a pro. When I entered the office I saw Jo-anne first. I had laughed about a million times with Jo by then and when we looked at each other, she had an expression of sadness. I thought, “shit, I am gone!”.  Steve was seated behind his desk. He was clearly uncomfortable so Jo-Anne took the lead and I think Steve and I were both glad she had.

That morning, my cousin David had been struck by a car and had passed away.  He was working for a courier company and had been making a delivery downtown when the accident occurred. David was the oldest of 3 boys. His father is brilliantly funny! At social events, Uncle Gerry would make my dad laugh until his lungs fell out. Still does to this day! Aunt Claudette did her best to eliminate the hi-jinx, largely because Gerry’s humor was at the expense of french hockey players even though he and Claudette were fluently bilingual! David has two younger brothers, Shawn and Chris. Shawn was the quiet thoughtful one. Chris, known as Cricket and Boots, had more energy than anyone I had ever met. I didn’t get a lot of details when I was given the news. I just knew the loss was going to carry a lifelong magnitude that no one should ever have to experience. I know because I had a sister pass away when I was 4 and she was 5. Her name was ‘Jo-Anne”, and she was likely as spirited as my boss. Jo-Jo was riding a bike that was too big for her and she had fallen into a parked car, bumping her head. No need for details but I still cry to this day when I think about her. I imagine Uncle Gerry, Aunt Claudette, Shawn and Chris will always shed a tear for David as well.

Having Jo-Anne there, sitting close by as I called my Uncle Gerry, not knowing what to say or do will be etched in my memory bank forever. She wasn’t just about the bottom line and football. Jo was about the relationships.  In the blink of an eye, she had earned my trust. She was a “show me, don’t tell me” type of leader! Always had been, always will be.

The second memorable, emotional moment came in 1991. I had established myself as a CFL pro by then and was part of a team that had a lot of potential. In the off-season, the team signed big name free agents Glen Kulka, Tony Cherry, the late John Mandarich, and David Williams. Some would argue that the team crossed the line in terms of the unspoken gentleman’s agreement that teams not sign other teams big name free agents. Some would call it the art of collusion! Coach Goldman and Jo-Anne opted to go big and create some positive heat around the team. The result was a vengeful group of competing General Managers. Fortune favors the bold but it could also come back to bite you in the ass.

We played Calgary on October 13th. I injured my knee and had anticipated being placed on the teams injured list. It was an eventful morning after the game because the team doctor opted to drain fluid build up in my knee. I was assured it would accelerate my return to the roster. When he drew back the syringe, there was blood and not the fluid he had anticipated. This was indeed good news. My knee was fine. I did have a 2 inch tear at the base of my quad but that would heal. I was going to miss some time but nothing to worry about. At least that’s what I had thought. Now, in the CFL, teams use re-callable waivers as a tool in building their weekly rosters. If a player is place on re-callable waivers and claimed, the original team can recall the player. Through all of this, the player has no idea all of this is going on. We are just a pawn in the game of football life! The fly in the ointment is teams can only place a player on re-callable waivers once a season. Now, if a player is injured and is placed on waivers, the odds are a team won’t claim him because they don’t want damaged goods. That is in a perfect world but things were not perfect between other teams General Managers and the Riders. Ah, yes…those vengeful general managers?

So, out of the blue, I get a call the next day from a guy I know from my football circle that I choose not to name. He is chatty with me than asks me about my knee. I told him that I would be fine. I explained the injury believing I could trust him. in football, trust, like contracts, is often broken. The next morning, I am called into Steve Goldman’s office. He broke the news that I had been claimed by the Hamilton Tiger-Cats. I was stunned. He went on to tell me that I was placed on waivers in a bid to hide me because of my injury and that Hamilton had crossed the line and claimed me. I asked him how that could happen. I then learned that I had been placed on re-callable waivers earlier in the season. WHAT! In a blink of an eye I was property of the Hamilton Tiger-Cats. In one moment, I was on the rise and an active community member and the next, I was an after thought. I remember flying to Hamilton and being met by absolutely no one from the team and staying at some roach motel in a sketchy part of town! What a disaster!

When the news broke, I went to my apartment to pack. Jo-Anne had been on her way to Fort McMurray for a charitable event with Bobby and Dennis Hull when she called me. Before I could get pissed off she apologized and was in tears which led to my breaking down. The transaction had not been her call. Our conversation, her dismay and apology was genuine. In that moment, I had resigned myself to the fact that I was no longer a member of the Ottawa Rough Riders but would forever be connected to Jo-Anne. Here is the kicker. She was going through her own difficult time as she and her first husband had separated.

I am grateful. Who wouldn’t be. It’s not everyday you spend time with JP Superstar. I know being the first female GM of a professional football team was not easy but she did it with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding a diet coke with Wendy Lisowski laughing her ass off in the passenger seat!

The cool thing about Jo was she could sell. Whether it was kazoo or paper airplane themed nights or convincing me to wear a lobster suit and host the teams keynote off season fundraiser!

The next season, as a member of the Tiger-Cats, I paid Jo-Anne a visit with a couple of teammates in tow. No appointment necessary. We walked into her office, hung out with her and laughed. My teammates were astounded. Then, to no one’s surprise, Jo gave the guys tickets to the game so they could hand them out to people we met downtown.  The guys added about 12 new female Tiger Cat fans to our fan base that afternoon while walking around Sparks Street!

There will never be anyone like JP Superstar! She had me at hello! Can’t say the same for opposing GM’s like Cal Murphy, Bill “The Undertaker” Baker or Joe Zuger! All great guys but don’t take this personal when I say, with Jo…it was personal.

I can’t tell you the score of any game but I can talk Jo-Anne Polak until the paper planes land from the top of the south side.

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Ken Evraire is an award-winning leadership coach and team builder, a talent specialist with Cistel Technology in Ottawa, Canada and is a former professional athlete. 

To contact Ken email him at ken@kenevraire.com.

To learn more about Ken, visit his website www.kenevraire.com or visit him on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/kenevrairedotcom/ or on twitter https://twitter.com/kevraire17

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I would have left the bench Razor!

As the day unfolds, this loss is running me over! I am so sad for his family. As a father, coach, former athlete and a real fan of the man, I am crushed.

I remember meeting Ray Emery for the first time during rookie training camp. He was a confident, off the charts athletic young man playing what was and to a degree still is a very white game. In his time with the Ottawa Senator’s he became a celebrity of sorts for the great things he did and the not so great things he did. If he could stop the puck, he was granted an unconditional love from all. If he won, we would turn a blind eye to the behavior that the came with the trappings of success.

Fans loved the fact that he loved to fight but I always wondered why he enjoyed it. Did he enjoy it? Was it about something that ran deeper inside him? Were there demons behind the goalie mask? Was it part of his approach in his bid to succeed? Did it fuel him to succeed and in turn become his Achilles heel?

As a Senator, he drove a white hummer which would not have been a big story if he played in the NFL or NBA, but in the NHL it just didn’t sit well with the traditionalists. Everywhere that white hummer went so to did the attention of fans and critics. The white hummer reminded us of Ottawa’s small-town identity. Many a time I wished he played in New York or Florida.

He always seemed like he was trying to find his way. He got into trouble with the team for his tattoos. I was with The New RO and we did a story on Ray getting a tattoo at a local tattoo parlor on Rideau St. The team reprimanded the station and me for the story. His dying his hair blond created a stir even though a teammate a few stalls down had tattoos and had also died his hair blond all without recourse. I am not saying the team was racist, I just think the team was not prepared for an outspoken black athlete who was trying to find his way. Ray was an athlete trying to find his way in a bid to stay true to himself. He had Mike Tyson painted on his goal mask and the argument that he supported Mike Tyson the criminal, the rapist became a hot topic. The team convinced him it would be a bad idea to wear it after just 1 game. It was not a mistake by some kid who was unaware. It wasn’t about Tyson’s criminal actions. Sadly, very few saw the connection between the challenges Tyson endured as a young man making is way to the top of his sport and the challenges Ray faced growing up with his single mom and then eventually after she re-married, growing up in a bi-racial family. Like Tyson, Ray was a competitor. Ray was fierce and unstoppable. He would not take shit from anyone who judged him. He was okay with going through the door first and getting bloodied. Not sure if he was okay with being the hero in one moment and the villain in the next. Those close to him would know better. Would his fight get the best of him? Sure…just ask the equipment man for the team in Russia he played for. Ray slugged him after being pulled from a game. The mistake was the equipment man trying to get Ray to wear a baseball cap.

Of all his accomplishments he will likely be remembered most (on the ice and off) for his fighting Buffalo Sabres G Martin Biron and F Andrew Peters during a line brawl in Buffalo.

So many celebrated his willingness to fight. So many had hoped for it.

Watch the video and tell me what you see?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulyEnFh9Wvo

Now answer this question. If that had been any other NHL goalie and the opposing team’s tough guy went after him would anyone, everyone have stepped in? You damn right they would have! Would guys have left the bench? You damn right they would have. I was always struck by the mere fact that no one jumped in that night in Buffalo. No one left the bench. No one stepped up to protect their goalie. Forget the argument that Ray can handle himself. That is beside the point. Goalie on goalie fights happen (much to the regret of Martin Biron) but a tough guy going after your goalie is a no-no, or at least it had been until that night. Ray puts on a brave face, a knowing smile. It was as if the moment unfolded just as he had expected. He was on his own again. If Tie Domi went after Patrick Roy what do you think would have happened? If anyone breathed on Mike Vernon or Chris Osgood in Detroit, do you think the opponent gets to pass go and collect $200? Hell no.

The sports news will play his fight video over and over again to commemorate his passing and each time I see it I will get pissed off.

As a guy who has a background in team sports, I can say that if I was on the ice, I would have jumped in and it would have taken me a fucking millisecond. If I was on the bench, I would have jumped into the fray regardless of the consequences, come hell or high water. Someone was going to get fucked up. It may be me but at least I entered the fray. I take great pride in knowing that my teammates knew I would have jumped into the fray, win, lose or if I got my ass kicked. No teammate should ever be left on his own.

As popular as he was, I always felt like Ray was on his own.

One day after a Sens practice when Ray’s star was shining its brightest, I had a brief conversation with him, a conversation that began in the elevator and then down the walkway at the rink. Ray knew I played football and I guess it garnered me some semblance of respect and some of his time.

At the time, I was working with The New RO. the city was celebrity starved. How bad was it? We celebrated the likes of Marlen Copeland who was famous for a diamond nipple on a gold breastplate and not much more! By then the rumors of mischief were swirling around the hockey team like a tropical storm. It was the cities big little secret. Everyone wanted a piece of the team, with Ray being the preferred choice. A couple of my police contacts had told me stories about Razor and his teammate’s antics. The rolled BMW found in the farmer’s field. The pissed off husbands. Ah, the players were kings. Everyone wanted to be close to them. Every Jr. B wanna be wanted to have a beer with them. Single and married women have their tales to tell. The white hummer parked near a certain socialites residence in the middle of the day on a consistent basis traveled through the gossip mill. I don’t think anything can compare to the party that was the 2006-2007 Stanley Cup run. Maybe that’s why it’s so tough to buy into the present edition of the Senators. The party could never be the same. The team was great on the ice and the postgame was greater!

In a subtle, it was none of my business but I really cared way, I suggested he be careful. To keep his head up. That those who love his rise to fame would certainly also celebrate his failure. Again, he smiled that knowing smile, chuckled a little, shook my hand and said thanks. Then he walked on, alone with no one there to jump into the fray should another battle with an opponent or a demon arise. No one would be there to leave the bench.

I will miss you Ray. I will miss the young man who did his best to stay true to himself. The young man who fought, win lose or if you got your ass kicked. Thank you for being a warrior.
Rest in peace Razor.

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Ken Evraire is an award-winning leadership coach and team builder, a talent specialist with Cistel Technology in Ottawa, Canada and is a former professional athlete. 

To contact Ken email him at ken@kenevraire.com.

To learn more about Ken, visit his website www.kenevraire.com or visit him on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/kenevrairedotcom/ or on twitter https://twitter.com/kevraire17

The problem with the “fake it til you make it” approach.

Fake it til you make it!

Sometimes it works and sometimes…not so much.

How many times have you heard that great piece of strategic advice?  I am sure I have heard it over a hundred times in my lifetime but to be honest, it didn’t resonate with me until it came from Sir Richard Branson (founder of the Virgin Group, which controls more than 400 companies). Fact is anytime a “Sir” says something, people tend to listen with a little more interest and I did! It’s only a 13 second video but here it is… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoXhoZjkUVY

So, first and foremost, far be it for me to disagree with a guy who has enjoyed the success Sir Richard has enjoyed. In fact, I do agree with him. Faking it til you make it makes sense when you are in an “attack the learning curve” frame of mind. If you are entering an on-ramp and exiting at the next off ramp then all is good. The challenge of faking til you make it lies in the fact that we are all creatures of habit and we all have a knack of making the art of faking it a habit.

Settling for something that is mediocre is normal human nature. We see something we want, understand it takes a lot of effort and time to get it and then decide to settle for something else that is not exactly the level of the other thing, but it will do. We have all experienced it. We are creatures of habit and the more comfortable the habit the harder it is to break. The multi-million dollar self help industry is born from this reality. That is the trap.

We beat ourselves up because we are not the next Roger Federer, Oprah Winfrey, J.K. Rowling, Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk or Ellen DeGeneres. Sure they are all successful but its not like the clouds opened up when they were born and some higher power declared them destined for greatness. At one time they woke up believing that on that day they would change their world. We all do the same. We wake up poised to change the world and then by 9 am we have run out of gas, and opted to reverse our energy and put off to tomorrow what we could have done today.

I love the conversation between Susan Sarandon and Kevin Costner in the movie “Bull Durham”.  Sarandon plays Annie Savoy and Costner plays Crash Davis.

Annie: ...so you see in a former lifetime I’m sure I was Alexandria, the Czarette of Russia. What do you think?

Crash: How come in former lifetimes everybody was someone famous? How come nobody ever says they were Joe Shmo?

Nobody wants to be Joe or Jill Shmo but the majority of us are because we become competent fakers. We are indeed special but if becoming a star or maintaining your stardom requires an effort, the sheen from our star often fades.

The reality is we will endure more failed missions than successful ones. Life is inconvenient. How we managed that inconvenience will determine our success. What we do when it’s time to fight or take flight determines whether we are special. In that critical moment when we find ourselves in the fake it til we make it mode, we take off like a sprinter and soon slow down to sloth speed. We rationalize and negotiate with ourselves. No matter the outcome, you are guaranteed to win that negotiation. If you choose to battle then you will battle. If you choose to procrastinate then you will indeed procrastinate. You are guaranteed a victory when you negotiate with yourself.It may not be the best case scenario but it is a victory nonetheless.

Like an athlete building muscle memory, when we consistently opt for the  “fake it til ya make it” approach you will soon get used to faking it! Before you know it…the faking becomes your reality. Your original destination was the express lane but some how you got stuck in the collector lane.

I am often struck by the galleries that follow professional golfers. As great as the golfers are I often wonder how many in the gallery are wondering if they could have been the one inside the ropes competing rather than on the outside cheering, if they had just focused on attacking the learning curve when they took up the game of golf. Did they opt to “fake it” and then got comfortable faking it to the point that it became the comfortable threshold of their learning experience? They learned enough to survive on the course but chose not to develop an expertise that would have allowed them to strive on the course? Is the margin for error that slim? They could have been the man but now they are shouting, “You the man!” from the periphery. Now, not everyone of them can hit a ball 350 yards or park an approach shot like a valet parking a Ferrari in New York City but isn’t the victory found in the act of trying?

 

 

 

 

 

 

I played professional football. Now, before the trumpets resound and the crowds cheers, it was the Canadian Football League and I made $33,000 before taxes my rookie year. this after being drafted 9th overall! In college I was able to fake it. I had no idea what defense the opponent played. I had no idea about their tendencies or what they were trying to accomplish. I was getting away with being the better athlete.

That changed when I I was drafted by Saskatchewan. When my name was called, I walked up on stage to meet Bill Baker. He was the teams GM and as a former player he was given the nickname of “the Undertaker”.  As we shook hands he said, “Welcome to the Saskatchewan Roughriders, you are now a free safety!”. WTF! WTF! I am a free safety. I just played 3 years of college football and without wanting to brag, I had built a pretty good resume. I was a 2x All-Canadian, conference all start, conference MVP, conference Rookie of the Year etc. I was a pretty good receiver! Yet, they drafted Jeff Fairholm (U. of Arizona) 2nd overall. So, I am now a free safety. I could have faked it in training camp and returned to school but I was done with university life and quite frankly, I  think the university may have been done with me as well!

I wanted to play pro football so badly that faking it was not an option. I had to go into attack mode! By avoiding the trap of faking it I was able to learn and in turn compete at a smarter and faster level. Eventually, I was traded to the Ottawa Rough Riders and shifted back to receiver. Talk about looking at the game from a completely different perspective. Everything made sense. I understood the chess game within the game.

When I left football I had no idea what I wanted to do but you would have thought I would have learned some life lessons along the way!

I signed up for a computer programming course at the local technical college. The world of I.T. where I lived was considered Silicone Valley North and there were tons of opportunities available. I spent a year and $17k to learn that I hated computer programming. The suit didn’t fit. I faked it and did not make it! Ironically, I went back to football and when I did I immediately realized that it didn’t fit me anymore as well.  Rather than tap out, I faked it for a year, made some money and re-calibrated my exit strategy.

So, faking it is an option but it only way bears value when it is a transitory step in your strategy.

Faking it until you make it only works if you are intent on getting out of the faking it lane as fast as you can. It works only if it is a layover between where you were and your next destination. No one wants to spend time at Newark International Airport, Kennedy or LaGuardia! They are hubs that lead to greater adventures.

So, how do we avoid the fake it til you make it trap?

What does it mean to you? We are all going to spend our time doing something. We look with envy at those around us who seem to be doing what they actually want to do. Who knows if they actually are? They may be full of crap, living the pretend Facebook perfect life. Who knows? I do know that if what you choose to do means something to you, you are more apt to go the extra mile. The art of developing your expertise and the energy that surrounds that effort transcends any need to fake it. The will to dig in is genuine. If you are invested you are a sponge. If you are a fence sitter you are a stone.

Game plan. Have a clear and concise exit strategy. Have a game plan that features hard and fast deadlines that will force you to get to the next level. Put some pressure on yourself to compete. Don’t get comfortable. Set incremental goals and don’t waver from them. If you are close to satisfying them then great. You have the option to give yourself some extra time. If you are nowhere near the neighborhood of satisfying the goals then you may want to ask yourself the “is this really for me?” question.

Be realistic. Set goals that you can reach. Expertise does not come in one fell swoop, its incremental and modular in nature. I remember back in grade 3 when I convinced my parents to buy me a geometry set. I vowed I would use every item in the case. I would use both of the set squares, I would protract with the 180° protractor, I would rule the class with the 15 cm ruler, I would never get lost thanks to the metal compass, and so on with the 9 cm pencil, pencil sharpener, eraser and the 10 mm stencil. As expected, I did not use all of them…in fact I barely used any of them.

Find another fake it til you make it adventure: If the suit doesn’t fit then don’t wear the suit. Find something that fits or comes close to fitting. There is nothing wrong with moving from one challenge that may not fit you to another that may fit you. Life offers very few absolutes. Finding what is worth your time is an imperfect science.

Faking it until you make it should be a very uncomfortable comfort zone experience. At the end of the day, the goal is to create your own right time and right place.

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Ken Evraire is an award-winning leadership coach and team builder, a talent specialist with Cistel Technology in Ottawa, Canada and is a former professional athlete. 

To contact Ken email him at ken@kenevraire.com.

To learn more about Ken, visit his website www.kenevraire.com or visit him on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/kenevrairedotcom/ or on twitter https://twitter.com/kevraire17

 

 

Running Naked

When everything seems discombobulated in my life I love to go run naked!  Have you ever been in a place where you just have so much on the go and you can’t slow things down let alone make sense of anything. As an entrepeneur, father of 3 precocious children aged 8, 7 and 6, patient (undergone 2 ablations to cure an AFIB issue), brain donor, coach and to be honest, a guy just trying to figure things out on a daily basis, my cure is to go run naked!

Of course, I don’t mean literally. I mean, I run naked as in, without the need to block everything out with an ipod, without 4 water compartments attached to my belt, no watch to tell me how long or how fast or how slow I am moving, how many steps I have taken or what my heart rate is. No Advil to help me through the run. I simply begin begin with a light static stretch and then get moving.

I know my left knee will need some time to catch up to the rest of my body thanks to a major ACL repair and 4 subsequent arthrosopic procedures, I  know my hips and back will be tight,  I know my breathing will be staggered and panicked. I know that I will begin the run carrying all of life’s luggage. I will fret over the kids schooling, my parenting style, the increasing cost of living, how I can be more supportive of my wife, North Korea, Donald Trump, Justin Trudeau, my Chicago Blackhawks, how to figure out the Cumberland Panthers RB who decimated my Eagles Tyke football team defence, paying back money I owe family members, planning a family summer holiday, how I can determine my worth as a business consultant and not give in to clients who want to low ball me on every seemingly every quote.

One would think, that with so much going on, I would just take off my running shoes and go lie down, curl up into a little ball and take a nap, waking only when the world stopped spinning so erratically!

Tapping out is not an option. I know the start of the run will feel like a never ending barrage of Mike Tyson body blows. Yet, I always draw confidence in knowing that as I run, I will find clarity. I will be able to begin the process of sorting and prioritizing my to-do list. I will be able to give proper weight to everything that I have on the go.

The endorphins will begin to kick in, I will begin to feel better physically and this change will be matched by a new found exuberance psychologically. I am not ticking like a Rolex quite yet but I am at least a Timex! I will decide to drop some items off of my to-do list. I will figure out new ways to attack and solve problems. I will new plot solutions and develop a new, keen sense of direction.

By blasting the Doobie Brothers in my ears, drinking blue frost Gatorade every 3 blocks, taking 4 Advil and then worrying about taking 4 Advil, I will certainly get through my run but I don’t want getting through my run to be the trophy. My badge of honor is not defined by how I was able to gut it out. The run isn’t the accomplishment. It is not the win. It is the portal to the win!

I know my body will respond with energy. My breathing pattern will adjust and find a new calm because my mind will go quiet. There is still a crap load going on but by listening to my body and trusting the process, I have created a win that I can build on.  After I have adjusted my speed, taken time to stretch after every 8-10 blocks of running, I have a longer stride, my foot placement is smooth and light, I am running tall. My timing is more precise. By listening to my body and responding accordingly, I am winning.

Now, I am confident about attacking other items that require my attention. I am not thinking about running. I am running naked and on auto-pilot. I don’t remember much of anything from the perspective of the exterior. no thoughts about the traffic, what people think of my running technique etc.  I am tuned into the machinations of my interior, in my heart and soul.

I am coming up with new presentation ideas. I am plotting new solutions that were nowhere near my thought process 35 minutes ago. I am becoming a better parent, a better husband, a better everything all because I chose to run naked.

So how does this toapply to my work as  a leadership consultant and team builder?

Don’t be afraid to face the noise. By attacking the noise and the traffic, you can work your way to a clear express line that offers new opportunities. You won’t find a solution if you don’t face the problem. If your team production is down or deadlines are being missed. Maybe people are taking an inordinate number of sick days that may reflect a culture issue within the team. There can be a number of issues and they can only be solved when you get out of the office and go run naked! Once you begin to build some momentum, the possibilities from a problem solving perspective are infinite!

I will be sore tomorrow morning but it will be worth it.  I will relax tonight, sip some blue frost Gatorade, listen to some Doobie Brothers and look forward to the next time I run.

I run naked, therefore I am!