Get Going

Goodbye Beaumont, Texas. Had a great stay. Thank you.

Post number five this morning. Most days, I don’t feel heavy pressure to write five posts before heading out the door. Traveling (sometimes) complicates exacerbates the pressure. The good news is I refuse to quit. The bad news is this means I have to deliver.

All day. Every day. The road to excellence has no finish line. But my 90-minute drive this morning does – Houston’s Hobby Airport. I’m going home to Disney World.

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Audience Is Heavenly, Traveling Is…

Sure Is Pretty Up Here In Late October (from yesterday)
Sure Is Pretty Up Here In Late October (from yesterday)

Most likely, you’ve figured out that I’m on the road again. The photos in today’s posts are a clue.

And’ I’m reminded of a line from a Dan Fogelberg song, Auld Lang Syne, “The audience is heavenly, but the traveling is hell“.

It seems so true.

Which ought to remind all of us to count our blessings. We have way more than we give ourselves credit for.

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Sometimes

Some Days It's McDonalds, Some Days, Mortons
Some Days It's McDonalds, Some Days, Mortons

Life can be grueling in good economic times and then when it’s like it is now, well, grueling can go up exponentially. About every other week, I travel to give speeches. You’ve got to be organized to manage your health on the road.

It is dangerously easy to make exceptions, or excuses, and let things like sleep, eating well, and staying in touch with Family slide.

And then there are those rare moments when you do really well.

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Wash Your Hands

Germ Fighters?
Germ Fighters?

Routine can be a good thing. Agreed?

Routine can also be a bad thing. Still with me?

So when traveling, the night before my speech, decent and reliable food increases the odds of not getting any stomach surprises. If you don’t travel a lot and eat in unfamiliar territory, just try to imagine – especially if you have a “sensitive stomach”.

So, my consultant friend and I are at Outback Steakhouse.  After we order, I go to the bathroom to wash my hands. Routine is good, remember?

A three or four year old, heading to the exit door is being told by his Father, “Wash your hands.”  And out of the mouth of this cherub, “But I didn’t hold it!”