Ever have a crab boil? Here, it tends to be crawfish, but I once heard someone describe a Deep South summer as being a steamed crab in a bag. I laughed when I heard it, of course. Then I went outside in July and thought, yeah — that's about right.

If you've never run through a Memphis summer, it's hard to explain what you're really up against.

You step out the door, and the air hits you like a wall: thick, wet, and heavy. Oppressive. And there's no relief waiting for you out there. Not in the shade. Not from a breeze. The humidity will get to you no matter where you are. You're soaked before you've covered a block, whether you’re moving like a Usain Bolt or a snail.

I attended a speaking event a while back. You know the kind—good energy, electric with possibilities, surrounded by people you’d love to connect with. During a break, I was maneuvering between tables when something familiar caught my eye.

Me.

There my headshot was on someone’s phone. They were scrolling through my LinkedIn profile, no idea I was right behind them. I kept going, of course. No idea how much they invested in researching me in the moment. Maybe my bio, a few posts, or a look at my credentials. Or maybe they’d end up here (if so, hi). 

We did eventually meet, and they came in prepared. They already had questions, referenced things I said online, and a pre-loaded version of me set. In some ways, that’s pretty convenient—in other ways, it makes the real-life “first impression” a lot different than it used to be.

My friends are often surprised to learn that I haven’t worn a GPS watch on a training run in years. No heart rate monitor or pace alerts—just my favorite running shoes, the road, and whatever my body is telling me.

Some people might hear that and assume I’m doing this casually. Because, you know, it doesn’t really count if it isn’t logged. So says our metric-obsessed culture, after all!

I found that stripping data out of my runs has made me more consistent, more intuitive, and (honestly) more fun to be around after a workout. It might do the same for you.

One early morning a few years back was not going my way. It started with bickering kids, a disappointing run, and what felt like a million different tasks to do. I got to the office—barely had time to put my stuff down, let alone grab a cup of coffee—when it happened.

A well-intentioned colleague dropped criticism on me I was not prepared to handle.

You know that fight-or-flight feeling? When heat creeps up your neck and face, your pulse quickens, and you feel the instinct to bristle up and get defensive. Or worse, lash out at the perceived attacker.