Finding Lessons in Challenging Situations (Abominable Snow Race) 2-4-26

This is a one-off entry inspired by the Abominable Snow Race. It’s about finding lessons in challenging situations.

I managed to talk my entire family into doing the Abominable Snow Race this year. We did the 5k obstacle course race through the snowy wooded trails of Wisconsin. I can’t say it was exactly fun, BUT it was an adventure. Here are a few of the highlights/lowlights 😉

It was cold! At the start of the race we were at 0 degrees Fahrenheit, a lot worse than we thought it would be. The course also had more hills than anticipated.
The first mile was gorgeous. Beautiful wooded trails, lots of fresh snow to eat, and a few easy obstacles to warm up on. We even saw a local racing legend who does the race in a speedo every year. I don’t know if he is brave, tough, crazy, or all of the above.
By mile 2 things got rough. We were tired and cold. We were all a bit cranky. I kept telling the kids that we only had one really difficult thing left. We had to climb up this steep hill with a rope. We got about ¾ up the incline when we all went tumbling down. I skinned my knee and for a moment the kids thought we would be trapped in the woods forever living as forest monks. (actual quote)
Now we were at mile 2.5. We were taking a break, the kids gasping for breath, overwhelmed and unsure if they could make it. Out of nowhere this woman comes over to check out on us. She tells my kids she feels their pain and is suffering right along with them. She tells us she’s from North Carolina and NOT AT ALL READY for the cold or snow. We look at her face and a combo of sweat, ice, and tears had her mascara running down her face like war paint. The kids snap out of their moment and go walking along like they are perfectly fine, and the woman joins us, another duck in our row. We become a merry band of misfits, offering moral support as we wind through the woods for the last half mile of the race. The woman says how her kids would never be able to do this, which makes my kids feel incredible.
We crossed the finish line, and while it wasn’t pretty we made it. We were all angry, exhausted, and freezing. We had been through some things. Everyone was so grumpy we didn’t even talk for like 15 minutes. After we got some food in our belly we looked back and started laughing at the wild series of events. Also, I helped the kids see that even if it was hard, even if they struggled, they did something that day that most people wouldn’t even try to do.

Our lessons from the day

It’s possible to find humor and even joy in things that suck. It may not have all been fun at the time, but looking back, the entire experience is HILARIOUS! We have laughed so hard recounting the tales with folks.
Part of the reason why it was so hard is we assumed it wouldn’t be as hilly and as cold as it initially was. It’s a good lesson that being physically AND mentally prepared for the worst comes in handy.
It’s nice to have a reminder of what you are capable of. The race was a testament that we can do hard things. During future challenges one of our measuring sticks will be, “Is this as hard as the Abominable Snow Race?” Probably not. I’m so dang proud of my kiddos for doing this.
There are always people out there to commiserate with and help along. Our encounter with the woman was a cool one. She helped us and we helped her.
If you’re angry and hate the world, maybe you’re just tired, cold, and hungry. A good warm meal can solve a lot of problems 😉

Connection with work- Maybe you’re not trudging through cold and snow right now. I’d bet that you are facing some challenges. With this in mind, I imagine that some of the lessons we learned during our race are applicable to where you are too.

The challenge- What lessons will you take from the challenge you are currently in?

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry

Discomfort, Paralysis, and the Glacier Leap (2-7-24)

Last week was about discomfort and psychological safety. This week is about discomfort, paralysis, and the Glacier Leap.

The Glacier Leap is one of the obstacles at the Abominable Snow Race. You start by climbing up an incline wall (covered in snow/ice/slush) until you are on top of the first structure and about 7 or 8 feet off the ground. This is where things get interesting. You have to jump to the next structure making sure you position your body correctly and grab the bar tightly or you will fall.

When I got to the top of the structure, I watched as people would stand at the edge and peer down. You could feel them becoming more and more uncomfortable until they ultimately became paralyzed at the thought of falling. At that point, they wouldn’t jump. Instead, they’d turn around and climb down without ever giving it a try. I knew that the same thing would happen to me if I didn’t move quickly. I made a decision. I would step up to the edge, count out loud, and jump on three. Any more hesitation and the discomfort would turn to fear would turn to paralysis. So, I stepped up, counted to three and jumped! My hands grasped the bar, my feet hit a patch of ice on the wood, and I instantly slid down and fell. It wasn’t exactly pleasant. 😉 At this point, I was determined (or dumb), and refused to let this obstacle beat me. I climbed back up. This time I had an advantage, because I knew exactly what the discomfort felt like. I knew exactly what falling felt like. I had survived, and now those things weren’t so scary. I stepped up, counted to three, and jumped! This time I made it! With my heart beating out of my chest, I stepped up and jumped to the next platform! Success!

What does this have to do with anything? Whether you’re doing an obstacle course race or performing your role at work, sooner or later we all run into a patch of discomfort. When that happens it is easy for the discomfort to turn into fear which turns into paralysis. Have you ever experienced this at work? I know I have. I’ve walked out of situations and said, “I wish I would have asked this. I wish I would have said that. I wish I would have done something different, but I just froze.”

I wish I had a magic way to avoid this, but I haven’t uncovered one yet. All I’ve found is that once the discomfort starts setting in, I need to move. I need to take some kind of action before the discomfort becomes fear and before the fear becomes paralysis. During the obstacle course race I counted to three and then jumped. Counting was the trigger to move. What could your trigger to move be at work? Maybe you write down the statement or question you think you’ll want to make, so when you start to freeze you can just read off the paper. Maybe your action isn’t dealing with something that day, but scheduling time on calendars to handle it in the future. Maybe it’s recognizing that the paralysis is taking over and just stepping out of the situation to catch your breath.

The challenge: How will you ensure discomfort doesn’t paralyze you?

#yetination #abominablesnowrace

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry

Discomfort, Psychological Safety, and the Yeti Challenge (1-31-24)

Last week was about embracing discomfort, so you can be successful. This week is about discomfort, psychological safety, and the Yeti challenge.

This past weekend I completed the Abominable Snow Race. I did the Yeti challenge, which consisted of 12 miles through ice/snow/mud/slush and around 50 obstacles. I was in a constant state of discomfort through most of the race. I was cold, wet, sore, covered in bruises, had a weird spot on my hand we call a yeti bite because we have no idea what happened (credit to Kristina Kittle for the name), and I was nervous/anxious/scared a fair amount. It would have been easy for me to say, “I’m uncomfortable, so that means this isn’t safe.” However, even though I was in a constant state of discomfort, the course and environment were safe. Plus, I felt like a complete bad a$$ when I crossed that finish line. #yetination

How does this connect with work and psychological safety? There are a lot of different definitions for psychological safety. At their core, I believe that most definitions center on the idea of creating an environment where people can be themselves and freely share their ideas without fear of negative repercussions. What you’ll notice if you read different definitions is that none of them promise a workplace without any discomfort or tension. This connects back to my racing story. I was uncomfortable for most of the race, AND I was still safe. In a similar way, it’s easy to be in a tough conversation or situation at work and think to yourself, “This isn’t comfortable, so this environment must not be safe.” This isn’t necessarily true. Tension, challenging questions, or a difficult conversation at work, doesn’t mean that the environment lacks psychological safety. Sometimes what we are feeling is just discomfort, and we need to find a way to process that and move forward. In my experience the more psychological safety I have with a person or group the more real conversations we can have that include tension and discomfort, and like how I felt when I finished the race I usually feel so much better after these convos. Is this true for you?

The challenge- How will you think about discomfort vs psychological safety?

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry

Running YOUR Race and the Permission to not be Perfect (2-2-22)

This week I want to kick-off a series inspired by obstacle course racing hobby. We’ll start with giving people permission to not be perfect and running YOUR race.

This past weekend I completed the Abominable Snow Race. I did the Yeti Challenge consisting of 2 laps of the course which equals 11.6 miles of running/hiking through snowy forests with a lot of hills, 48 obstacles, cold temps (3 degrees at the start and a high of 20), and about 5 hours for me to complete. This is the longest obstacle course race I had ever done, so I was nervous leading up to it. Alice, my wise 9 year old daughter, gave me a pep talk. She said, “This isn’t about winning, dad. This isn’t about getting every obstacle right. You just have to do your race at your pace. That’s all you got to do.” I had never had any delusions of winning. Still, I was putting pressure on myself to have the perfect race, to ace every obstacle, to be fast, and to put in an awesome performance. Alice’s words were exactly what I needed. They gave me permission to not be perfect. They were a reminder that this wasn’t about anyone else. This was about me and my growth. As I did the race, I failed 8 obstacles, was so much slower than I wanted to be, and dang was it ugly. BUT, I ran my race and I FINISHED! While I’m still sore, I’m also incredibly proud of myself because I couldn’t have done this a few months ago. My effort and my growth is what matters, not perfection.

How does this connect with work? I don’t know about you, but sometimes I get concerned with being perfect. I become obsessed with this idea that a mistake or a flaw will negate everything I do. These thoughts paralyze me. Do you ever feel that way? Throughout my life, I’ve realized I don’t need to be perfect. I just have to be willing to try. I have to be willing to keep moving, even if the journey if filled with mistakes. Vulnerability moment. I’m trying to figure out my newish role, especially in the midst of business units merging together. There are new processes, changes, and problems popping up from every direction. I started to feel a bit like a failure, because I wasn’t perfect with all these things. The other day I spoke to my boss and said, “Am I doing okay? I just feel like there’s all this stuff right now that I don’t have a handle on. Should I? It just feels like I’m messing stuff up, like I’m not good.” Similar to Alice, my boss more or less said, “You’re doing fine. You can’t expect to be perfect right now with all this stuff popping up. You’re good. Keep moving forward.” It was permission to not be perfect. It was permission to not have everything figured out, and that made all the difference. It was a reminder to keep moving forward. It was a reminder to focus on my effort and my growth, because those are the things that will get me to where I want to go and help me become who I want to be.

The challenge: Are you giving yourself permission to not be perfect? Are you giving other people permission to not be perfect? Are you running YOUR race?

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry