"Winning" Coming off my cabin retreat, I wrote a letter to myself about slowing down, staying aware, and taking life one step at a time. That clarity didnāt stay on the mountain. It followed me home. And one idea keeps looping in my mind: Iāve spent much of my life trying to āwinā at things that were never meant to be won. I canāt āwinā at fitness or wellness. Thereās no perfect number, no finish line. If I push too hard or not enough, the system breaks. I'll never complete all the challenges, run all the races, so enjoy the ones you do commit to. Balance is what keeps me alive and in the game. I canāt āwinā a marriage. If someone thinks they did, thatās⦠unfortunate. And business? Leadership? Parenting? Same thing. There is no ādone.ā Thereās only whether Iām still playing ā and how well, how consistently. What game am I actually playing... And why? ----- What the Trails Taught Me Sure, there are destinations and markers and summits. But the real objective is simple: Take the next step. Thatās it. Extended hikes made this painfully obvious. I noticed how fast things can slip when my mind goes anywhere else ālooking out over the cliff, thinking about how far Iāve gone, thinking about how far is left, or getting distracted by wet leaves or loose stones. It only takes a microsecond of not being present to stumble. Trail hard? Trail easy? Doesnāt matter. The focus doesnāt change: one step ā keep moving forward. When the view is great, take a breath and enjoy it. But then itās time for the next step. That's the only objective. ----- Staying in the Game I also had to listen to my body. Eat before Iām starving. Drink before Iām depleted. Have a plan so I donāt crash. Because if the tank goes empty, the steps stop. And physical exhaustion drags the mind with it just as fast as mental exhaustion drags the body. If I slip, the only question is: Will I get back up? Can I get back up? And when pain shows up ā because it always does ā ask: Is this temporary?