In the SOF community, we talk about risk before we conduct any mission. Though, on the surface, it may look like it’s all Hail Marys and goal-line heroics, the truth is that everything comes down to a calculus of risk, reward, and the ever-present forces of reality.

Recognizing that I volunteered as a Ranger, fully knowing the hazards of my chosen profession, I will always endeavor to uphold the prestige, honor, and high esprit de corps of my Ranger Regiment. I stood in formation and recited this and five more stanzas of the Ranger Creed every morning from the day I showed up to R.I.P. in 1998 to the days we went to war in 2002 and our op-tempo no longer allowed morning formations. 

Two weekends ago was the best birthday I’ve ever had. I spent it with my son at a rock festival in Orlando—something I never could have anticipated when I left the Army for my family in 2009. In 2009, I left the Army to find my way home. It took years to get there. I felt it deep in my gut—even as leaders and family urged me to stay for a host of reasons: I was “good at it,” and we were in a recession.

Both were true. But being good at something isn’t a good enough reason to stay. And headwinds shouldn’t stop us from moving forward. Regardless, that rationality wasn’t as clear and consistent as the pulse in my gut telling me to go home.

I’ve been running my whole life. From soccer to the Army, marathons, and beyond, the miles have added up – the wheels are worn, and the power train rattles. Plantar fasciitis, stress fractures, sprained ankles, bone spurs, nerve damage, runner's knee, arthritis, four hernia repairs, sciatica, upper hamstring tear, and spinal compression are some of the dents in my fenders. 

This means long runs and hikes all come with at least a little discomfort. Sometimes A LOT.

I suppose this leaves me with a choice. Do I keep running, or stop running?

From 2017 – 2022, Kelly and I served in the marriage ministry at Mission Hills Church in Littleton, CO. In that time, I had a number of incredible leadership lessons, perhaps none so resonant as the importance of making peace in our marriages – a lesson just as applicable for all of our relationships.

In last year’s annual letter, we declared 2025 the year we were "entering the Pros”, challenging ourselves to be boldly better. With a book set to release in February and most of our revenue goal already under contract, we began 2025 with great anticipation. We were confident in our team and our business, and eager to see how, if at all, our book would change things. We took our theme of Major League ALPs very seriously. But like any team trying to earn its place in the big leagues, we knew it wouldn't happen overnight. 

Not every job is a calling.  

Life’s too short to spend 50% of our waking hours working a job we hate. It’s also too short to spend 100% of our time chasing our dreams into poverty. Sometimes that means leaving a great job that’s killing us; sometimes that means staying in an ok job that’s providing for us. Most of the time our jobs occur on a sliding scale between fulfillment and provision that we need to respect. The reality of this tension is uncomfortable, but it’s something we need to address in our age of “follow your heart” influencers.

Too often, we publish values statements without considering what they look like in real life, identifying them in the workplace, and celebrating those who get it right. Without follow through those earnestly developed words become hollow successories without substance. Many of our clients have leaned into deeds over words this year—it’s been a rollercoaster for most.