#ImpactoftheDay PoweredbyImpactClub StoryAthlete BeingVsBecoming DefinedByTheStoryWeTellOurSelf

[otownrex]

Float On - The Floaters

It's current day and my mentor and business partner Ryan asks a question none of us as an adult like to think about.

What was that question? "How many days do you have left and how do you increase your return on time?"

This question gets asked in our society a variety of different ways: "Where would you go if you died tonight?" "What would you do different if you knew you only had one week to live?" I'm sure you have heard them all.

But, have you done the math? According to the CDC the average life expectancy in the US is 78.6 years. They have charts that go into more detail so being a white male age 58 they say I will live another 24.9 years or 9,088 days.

Compared to others in my Storyathlete group who have upwards of 17,000 days a certain reality check kicks in.

I ask myself how many days have I hidden from my own life. Those days where I want to be left alone. The phone rings or a text comes in and I hesitate to answer because it may be bad news or some type of confrontation that I don't want to deal with that day.

Or worse yet the inconsequential trivia that makes up a good part of my life.

I am the assistant manager in our office. One of my roles is as a trainer for new agents. How many trainings have I planned an prepared to have no one show up. How many wasted days will I allow to take up my precious 9,000 days left?

How many days are consumed in business meetings attended each year to move forward a company where I don't have any stock? Will the owners take care of my family when I'm gone? The answer to that is no. Will I be remembered for more than a day or two after my demise by the owners? Will they even attend my funeral?

The days of getting by or doing fine are over. I will now focus on obtaining my highest and best return on time.

With a grandson on the way at the end of this year, priorities are changing and a sense of urgency that I have not felt for a while is hitting me like a ton of bricks.

How will I increase my return on time? Reading, writing, reflecting and taking action on the things that are important to me and those around me.

Helping others find their stories and instructing them on how to share their story in a way that will help them define who they are and allow them to gather followers that will buy into what they are selling. "I like that way that guy thinks."

By crafting messages that resonate with followers that are looking for a path to help them reduce weight, become stronger mentally, strengthen relationships and increase their business through story. To become a Storyathlete.

Helping others in need in my community through elevated philanthropy using Impact Club as a platform.

I have a long path ahead and a short time to get there. #IODcommitted #ImpactoftheDay #PoweredbyImpactClub #StoryAthlete #BeingVsBecoming #DefinedByTheStoryWeTellOurSelf

[otownrex]

How Deep Is Your Love - The Bee Gees

It's two-thousand and something and my wife, Kathie, is watching Rue Paul's Drag Race. I did not expect to gain words of wisdom from the show, but I did.

Rue ends the show with "If you can't love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else?"

There are a plethora of self-help books, podcasts, videos and seminars that will cost you hundreds if not thousands of dollars to attend. Much of what they teach comes down to that simple phrase.

"If you can't love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else?"

I have been thinking about quote quite a bit lately.

It seems that when I succumb to my lesser-self, that self says the status quo is fine, the lesser-self says "it's ok to skip the gym today or eat like crap." That lesser-self that abuses the relationship I have between my mind and my body, my relationships, and my business.

This un-loving self then affects those around me. When I get home from work I sit down have dinner, fall asleep in front of the TV and utter curt yes or no answers to Kathie.

This un-loving self spends most of the time feeling sorry for myself. "If I was younger. If I was richer. If I weighed forty pounds less." It is a selfish and weak mindset.

This un-loving self spends time in recluse, not relating with friends and relatives. Wanting to shut out the world and stay in the dark safe place where there is no conflict there is only the dull roar of silence that will suffocate the better or heroic self. . As I continue with my 1% Journey, I start the day with gratitude for the people in my life both near and far and with a good portion of love for myself in starting a new day with the commitment to show up just a little bit better than yesterday.

So…How deep is your love? Live, Love, Matter #IODcommitted #ImpactoftheDay #PoweredbyImpactClub #StoryAthlete #BeingVsBecoming #DefinedByTheStoryWeTellOurSelf

[otownrex]

Ride The Wild Surf - Jan & Dean

It's nineteen-seventy something and my parents had recently purchased a condo at Cocoa Beach.

My Mom has always loved the beach, coming from Upstate New York, her dream was to be in the sun, surf and most of all warmth of the Florida sun. This was my parents' chance to make a dream come true while making a good real estate investment.

Mom and I spent most summers in the condo. Dad would come over on the weekends and Mom and I would stay from the day school let out in the spring until the day before school started in the fall. It is some of my fondest memories growing up.r

On our first summer, I found an attraction, more of a longing, to be a surfer. I would watch the other kids out on their boards and think to myself "That looks like the most fun ever."

After watching the other kids, and quite frankly many adults, surfing, I asked my Mom if I could get a surfboard. The immediate response was, "No, you'll hit your head and drown." This was a typical reply from my Mom. She nixed everything from baseball to skateboarding with some story that would always end with me dead or in a wheelchair for the rest of my life.

As the days passed and I continued to "stalk" the surfers, I see one of the guys throw his board in the dumpster outside our condo. This was my chance, I thought. So a dumpster diving did I go.

It was a beat-up board that was missing most of its fiberglass skin exposing the rough polyurethane core.

I jumped out of the dumpster and sprinted to the shore like Indian Jones running from the natives to escape to the plane. I found to my delight the thing was seaworthy and I took off on my maiden voyage.

I also quickly found that surfing is an acquired skill. The other guys made it look so easy. See a wave, paddle a bit, jump up and ride the face of the wave. Lather, rinse, repeat.

There is an art to surfing. Wave selection is first. You have to judge which wave as the right size, speed, and surfable wall surface to give you a good ride.

Next, you have to be able to paddle to the right part of the wave and at the right speed for the wave to pick up the board and move it forward and determine which direction the wave is breaking to give you the longest ride.

Then you have to be able to get to your feet in one fluid motion and then balance at the correct point of the board to stay on top while moving at anywhere from seven to ten miles per hour. Faster on a bigger wave.

It's a bit like doing burpees on the hood of a car going down a bumpy road but, much more fun.

There are no words to describe the feeling of freedom, of being one with a power so much bigger than yourself.

Communing with nature as you ride the wave. I have had times when there were porpoises swimming in the wave I was riding and jumping out of the water right in front of me. Watching the pelicans dive from the sky to get their breakfast and seeing stingrays leap out of the water, just for fun.

I love to see my FaceBook friends that are still living their passion for surfing. As I improve my physicality I will soon be in the lineup calling out "Outside!" as a new set comes at us to ride the wild surf.

Live, Love, Matter

#IODcommitted #ImpactoftheDay #PoweredbyImpactClub

#StoryAthlete

#BeingVsBecoming

#DefinedByTheStoryWeTellOurSelf