Methodology

Show me your friends, and I’ll show you your future. About two weeks ago, I saw that quote on my buddy Tom Lawver’s Facebook. It has resonated with me ever since. That truth nugget is about as close as you can get to peering into the future. I’m a firm believer in the fact that you are who your friends are. I’ve run in quite a few different circles over the past 20 years, and the way I acted was a direct reflection of who my friends were. It is very clear that when I look back on the last two decades, the time I was in the most trouble was when I was most deeply rooted in the wrong crowd. “Do not be misled: bad company corrupts good character.” (1 Corinthians 15:33) ...

I’ve never run a marathon—never put 26.2 miles together consecutively. I haven’t even run a half-marathon or registered for a 5K. In the United States, about 450,000 people per year run a marathon. Next January, I’ll be one of them. A lot of people say it’s crazy. I can’t disagree, but let me really tell you about crazy. Courtesy of my good friend Matt Galli, I recently read Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner. The book is an autobiography by Dean Karnazes, a relatively ordinary guy with an unbelievable passion for running. Karno (as he is affectionately dubbed by his friends) tells his story of transforming from a regular, 8-to-5-Corporate-America citizen into the Ultramarathon Man. ...

Why is it that we go through thirteen years of school (at least) learning things like Calculus and Latin-roots, doing geometry proofs and memorizing the molecular structure of chemicals we’ll never see again, but no one ever really teaches us how to interact with people? Our education system shoves us in a room with blocks and blankets at the ripe old age of six and says, “Go play with these other kids you don’t know and try to talk to them. You’ll figure it out.” But in all reality, how many people do you know that can’t hold a conversation with their best friend, let alone a complete stranger? We’re given so little instruction on the art of conversation. I’ve searched high and low and come up empty on quality resources that teach you how to master small talk (and the conversation that follows). ...

At some point in your life, you will realize you need a resume. At that point, you will probably find yourself unusually irritable. It’s a daunting task, and if you are starting from scratch, you probably think welfare sounds better than job hunting. You realize you either have too much or too little to put on there. If you already have a resume, you probably don’t feel like updating it because everything barely fits as it is or you can only stretch what you did so much to fill up the entire page. I’ve been down both roads. ...

‘Tis better to give than to receive. I know, it’s not Christmas, but this tiny nugget of truth resonates no matter what time of year it is. We’ve all heard it, but we’re not all sure about it. With the credit crunch, piling debt, and the cost of living continuing to increase, we feel we have less to give than ever before. We can’t possibly spare any money to give to our church or to charities. Can we afford to buy a friend’s lunch? Unlikely—we can hardly afford our own. ...

In today’s world, we’re bombarded with the media, peers, advertisements, and celebrities telling us what we want. A new car. Nicer clothes. A better phone. We’ve become conditioned to chase after money, and I think it’s a condition we need to remedy. You’ve heard money doesn’t buy happiness. It’s true–money is not something that we should chase after. You’ll end up disappointed. No amount will ever be enough. The cardinal rule of living within your means is spending less than you make. Your income has to be greater than your spending. It’s not a novel concept, but it appears the millions of Americans who are in debt up to their eyeballs have failed to apply a simple math equation to their everyday lives. We live in a society fixated on instant gratification—buy now, pay later. The question we need to ask ourselves is, “At what cost?” If I buy this new HDTV, or new bike that I probably won’t even ride, or state-of-the-art-for-a-day computer, what is it going to cost me when it’s all said and done? Is it worth the debt? Can I bear the cost? ...

It’s only the second week of Fitness Friday, and I’m already using the topic loosely. This week, I’ve decided to touch on mental fitness through reading (I warned you it was coming) in a post that’s a bit more succinct than I’m used to. It’s tough to keep people’s’ attention for 800 words about something they want to know about, let alone something that’s my opinion. So, I’m going to hit you with some out-of-this-world advice in half as many words. Twice the wit. Double the kick. Half the words. All at the same great price. Welcome to The Point of Impact. Moving on. ...

I’m not sure I’ve ever talked to anyone who admitted they weren’t busy. What I love about busyness is that it is totally relative. If you asked me my freshman year of college, when I went to one meeting and attended about eight hours of class per week, I would have told you I was busy. And I wouldn’t have been lying. You see, I didn’t know any different. How can we possibly imagine being any busier than we’ve been at our most hectic point in life? No matter how busy we are, we use all of our 24 hours doing something. ...

A few months ago I attended a session at school on Servant Leadership put on by Christian Business Leaders. Jeff Hirsch, a manager at Proctor and Gamble in Cincinnati and the father of one of my best friends, the infamous Jack Hirsch (who is indeed alive, after much concern) gave his testimony and shared his insight. Dean Kohmann, a vice president at Charles Schwab in Cleveland, also shared his story and outlook on life. Both men talked about the importance of building relationships in order to impact people. Dean shared something especially poignant that has stuck with me over the past few months. He said: ...

Day one is always great. I think, “This is totally easy. No problem. I’m gonna follow through, turn into a decathlete, probably win a gold medal and donate all of my endorsement-deal earnings to charity.” And then I go to bed too late one night and accidentally hit my snooze button twelve times the next day and miss my morning workout. So I put off my workout until the afternoon. And then I realize it’s Shark Week, so I mentally move my workout until the next day. I say, “Oh, no biggie, I’ll just workout extra hard tomorrow. That will totally make up for it.” The next day? Same story. By this time I realize I’m totally off-schedule, there is no hope of me even making it past 30 with these workout habits, and I find relief at the bottom of a half-gallon of Moose Tracks. ...