I view things through my eyes mostly.

Are you better than me?

“And I think if you’re young and  you’re in that business of dreams, you’re always looking at the guy who’s got just a little bit more than you, and you’re measuring yourself in relation to that. And you always come up the loser.” -Warren Zanes

Warren Zanes played in a band in the 80’s called the Del Fuegos.  They were a rock band.  They wrote some pretty good songs, and I loved them.  After his stint as a rock star Warren almost accidentally went on to get a Phd, serve as VP of the Rock N Roll Hall of fame, and most recently, write a no holds barred biography of Tom Petty.  I am not a Tom Petty fan, but I heard a podcast with Zanes recently and the above quote hit struck me.  (I read the Petty book anyway)

I’m no geologist, but I’m pretty sure it’s our human nature to be competitive.  From a young age we gauge ourselves against others.  Animals puff up their chests, kids bully, we want to win.  It’s perpetuated I imagine by parents to some degree, but even in instances where parents don’t reinforce it, we can’t help but gauge ourselves against others.

It’s the little voice inside of us that won’t let us enjoy accomplishment.  The same voice that tells us we aren’t good enough.  The voice that that sets unrealistic goals.  To be clear, we need the voice, because I think its the same voice that helps us push us outside of our comfort zone.  We just need the voice to clear away the garbage.

There are 1440 minutes in a day.  360 of which we spend asleep.  Spending the remaining 1080 can happen quickly.  Shit, a trip to Walmart can adversely burn 85 of those minutes.  Tack on trips to and from work, meals, running kids around and you’re lucky to dedicate 30-60 a day to yourself.  To burn any of them in want of what the other guy has is a colossal waste of time and is likely holding you back from achieving what you really want to do.

Sure, it’s easy to say,  “Don’t rate yourself against others.”  But to do it takes deliberate practice to set inward bars.  Creating a way to rate yourself from where you are in the present against where you want to be.  Learning to take credit with ourselves for our accomplishment and not diminishing.  Setting stretch goals and figuring out the next step to get there.

Not a week goes by that I don’t interact with someone who self defeats by gauging themselves against others.  Hell, I will drive my kids down Highland road and look at what others have and wish I had a mansion.  Again, I think it’s natural.  BUT if we don’t recognize it, push it aside and keep going, we all come out losers in the end.

Take some credit today.  Challenge yourself against the you of yesterday.  It’s 7:01 a.m.  959 mins and counting.

It’s all a little much.


Per the usual, I have fallen off of writing.  This happens to me most of the time for a myriad of reasons, but as of late, it’s been for two specific reasons.  The first is that I have mentally succumbed to what I’ll just define as “life”.  The second is that it’s all becoming a little too much.  I get no less than 3 emails a day from people telling me that I can change it all, just take this coaching program or follow these simple steps.  Passion driven lives, living big, dream chasing. Am I contributing to this content stream?  Fuck, it’s all a lot much.

I won’t bore you with much on the first reason because it can’t come off sounding anything other than unappreciative of the choices I have in life.  New races, good healthy kids, loving wife, opportunity for restaurant expansion, and so on.  If I am honest, if writing suffers because the mental strain of juggling all of these good things, then too damn bad.  Wah wah wah.

The second however is worth noting.  I have for the past 10-15 years done my best to help push people to be their best.  Sometimes for a little income, mostly because that’s what I think you should do.  In the last 6 months I have noticed a non stop barrage of “coaches” and the like entering the market place.  “Am I a part of this?  This all seems douchey.  Am I ‘that guy?’  I’m just going to shut the hell up.”

We find ourselves in an era where everyone is supposed to do what they love.  I mean I am the goddamn poster child for this.  I know for damn sure that I have convinced more than a few people to do exactly that.  Find what you love, figure out if you can make a living at it.  Get out of the corporate world.  Be poor.  Struggle.  Work like a dog.  All this can be yours…AND MORE!!

On most days the “life” I have takes me through a gamut of both activity and emotions.  If “entrepreneurship” is a drug, I imagine it’s like what heroin or cocaine must be like (thankfully I survived the 90’s without meeting those two).  Intense ups, bigger downs, craving the next thing, driving in circles looking for the next fix, wanting desperately for the high of the “thing” you are doing to last longer.  But it all comes with a price.  I just happen to be willing to pay that price.  The climate of “coaching” businesses that I see lately makes me feel a little dirty.  Are people selling a true service or are they just giving a loaded syringe of heroin to an addict?  Am I a part of that?  Maybe so.

What I know is that my little corner of the world is fueled by two things that people seem to desperately need these days.  Brutal honesty and simplicity.  I can come off as a total dick because I tend to tell people what they don’t really want to hear, sometimes when they ask and sometimes unsolicited.   When I write, I am not saying anything new and groundbreaking, I am stripping down what you’ve already been told in a way that hopefully lets you see it clearly so that you can make the decisions you need to move your life forward in a positive way (eventually).

I’m not sure if that’s a “coaching program” or what.  I won’t stop pushing people to believe in themselves and to get outside of what they think is possible.  I can’t not do that.  I know we all need it, and I am hopeful I can give this to those that want it and that my douchiness is always of an honest, tolerable level…likely while wearing a speedo.

I shaved my toes today…here’s why that matters


I could hear the doubt all the way from Indochina.  I was talking to my coach for the first time in months and I was saying the things I’ve said before…”I will do the work, just give me the workouts and I won’t question them.”  “I’m highly coachable”.

I’ve said it before with limited levels of success.  Fortunately or unfortunately, depending where you are sitting, the past contradicts us, calls bullshit and is  unrelenting.  How then, can we make positive change?

Shaved legs are all a part of the game.  If shaved adult men make you uncomfortable, then you may want to stop reading this now…Still with me?  Good.

I have been shaving my legs since the late 80’s.  This began with competitive swimming, where at 14-15, the opportunity to have a female shave your legs in a speedo was a temptation too great to pass up.  I took a break from ’89-’00 and then in 2001 came back with a vengeance through cycling and triathlon.  If you have the means, I highly recommend it.  While endurance athletes will give you a ton of different reasons as to why they do so, the reality is that once one is freed from the confines of a furry existence, one realizes that it just feels good and or makes people uncomfortable.  Both are acceptable reasons.

What started with the legs, went to the arms, the chest, etc.  For whatever reason, I never shaved my feet or toes.  Weird, huh?  Then I got superstitious and not shaving my feet and toes became my thing.  I can’t explain the logic, it’s just how it was.

November has been an opportunity to restart for me.  No big reason other than that more DOING needs to be DONE.  The frequently cited Einstein quote about insanity’ s definition being  doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results has been coming home to roost and I need to set a couple things right.  First and foremost, Einstein didn’t fucking say this so please quit crediting him.  He was hella busy coming up with E=mc2 and such, not creating your meme fodder.  Second.  Einstein was correct.  I’ve been doing the same training and working and expecting things to change.  That shit won’t get me anywhere new.

Back to today’s coach’s call.  The reason my coach was immediately doubtful of my intent, is because I’ve said this shit before, had the same results and done nothing different.  I asked for new and or different training focus as I want different results.  My coach, of course, only has my past performances to draw from, and these bring doubt.

This training cycle is going to be different, because my mindset for my life is different.  I have already begun to make some changes.  I am doing what I can to quit the lies/excuses we all make at some level and not repeat the same behaviors and expect different results.  It’s my duty to also carry this through in all aspects of my life.  As a husband.  As a parent.  As a business owner and leader.  As a friend.  As an athlete.

Today, I shaved my toes.



Why knowing your “why” isn’t good enough for world domination.

10479443_10152868850569686_8477477296711415439_oI am not original.  If anything, I excel at retelling what most of us already know in a concise, punch you in the face for not seeing it sort of a way.  I’d like to think that at least part of the time I am not coming from left field.

I am also an unapologetic Simon Sinek fanboy.  When doing research for a TEDx talk at LSU 3 years ago, I fell upon Sinek’s now famous TEDx talk in which he espouses the idea that people inspire action not through what they do, but rather “why” they do it.  It was inspiring enough for me to wrap my TEDx story in a “why” context.  By the looks of the views, he has done a little better than I…so far.

But what if knowing “why” isn’t enough?  What happens after you’ve decided you know why you do everything in your life, and yet you are still unfulfilled and or unsuccessful at parlaying this into some form of “happier ever after”?

For years I’ve felt like I’ve been driven to make my slice of the world, a healthier, fitter, space.  Through opening healthy restaurants (FRESHJUNKIE), to starting races (The Louisiana Marathon, FRESHJUNKIE Racing), and through coaching nearly 100 different people over the last 3 years, I felt like I have been neck deep in my “why”.  Alas, the Brinks truck has yet to back up to my house and neither Ellen, Jimmy Fallon, or even someone from cable access have called begging me to come on TV.  “WHY”?

The reason is simple.  Knowing your “why” isn’t good enough for world domination.  Now that may not be your goal, and that’s fine,  and knowing your “why” may be plenty for Ted from accounting.  But for people who want to be the best of the best, a “why” is just the start.  How do I amplify my “why” in tangible ways???

I awake everyday questioning.  “Am I where I need to be?”  “Am I doing what I need to?”  “Where is the effing coffee?” “Where am I?” “Where are my pants?”.  Sometimes the questioning can be crippling.  No bullshit.  I sit there and wonder,  “What do I think I am supposed to be doing with this day?”  As anyone who is trying to build there own brand knows, there is no correct answer, and no one dropped off a playbook or manual.  You write it daily.

Along with a why, you gotta have a DO.  EVERY DAY.  The only way out of my hole is always to DO.  Moreover, your DO doesn’t have to be perfect.  Some days I DO the wrong things, but I try to consistently evaluate those things and improve, so that I am spending the most time DOING the things that both move my “why’ forward in the most positive ways.  These days, I am making sure that it moves forward on a secondary level of profitability as well as simply for saying the right things.  Saying is the beginning.  DOING IS THE AMPLIFIER.


There are a lot of freaking quotes in this post.  For that, I apologize.




Play. Create. Live large


When I was a kid I loved legos.  I mean, who didn’t? You could build according to the directions, or build a 2×8 block stack to the ceiling (which I did) or spend hours lost in space (this was the big collection in 1982).

I also loved the woods, a set of bmx trails we fashioned out of the piles of dirt from neighborhood pools, and  my favorite early 80’s pastime; a chunk of plywood that I nailed two pair of broken roller skates to and covered the top with a chunk of carpet.  We would spend hours dragging each other behind a too large 10 speed while towing each other behind, singing Don’t Bring me Down by ELO.  It was fast, it was dangerous, and it was FREEDOM.

I long for the smell of dirt and pine needles.  Of heat in the Mississippi woods.  Of dirty ass puppy smellin kids rolling off a chunk of plywood at 20 mph.

Fast forward just a few short years, and I was “too grown up” for that stuff.  Homework, after school sports, what passed for a middle school social life and the struggle to be cool, quashed this out for a few years…until I could do stupid things in a car.

Of late I have been struggling a little bit with the ever present “Am I doing the right things?” and “If I am setting up my businesses to run by themselves, what then should I do with any of the free time?”  This is the ever present trap question of our time.  Is this work good enough? Passionate enough? Meaningful enough?

On Friday, I had worked from early in the morning until about 12:00 and decided to go ride my bike for awhile.  I haven’t ridden much since Ironman Boulder and this ride let me know that straight away.  No snap in the legs and a heavy dose of River Road wind, and I was soon slogging along.  But I was content.

What “came to me” on this ride was something simple.  Something I have heard echoed in a recent post that went viral by Mark Manson about finding your “passion”.  In a nutshell, when we were kids, we just did.  We created, we played, we lived.  Somewhere along the way, the notion of creating and playing became a luxury.  Something we were to do in our free time if we weren’t “artists”.  I’m calling bullshit.

What if creating IS the work we are to do?  And this doesn’t mean dropping your job as an attorney to become a poet (or maybe it does).  It means finding joy in creating when you can, to start out.  Through writing, thinking, singing, and most importantly through PLAY.

Find an outside hobby.  Maybe you like basketball.  Find a pickup game again.  Go run at lunch.  Join an adult kickball team.  Play dodgeball.  Buy some legos and pull them out at your desk and let your mind escape from those TPS reports.

I am convinced that at least 75% of the “stress” in life is self created.  I have a friend that immediately freaks out about “what will I do with the kids?” or “I can’t do that, how will (insert inane work duty here) get done?”  These are important responsibilities to consider for sure, but this conversation was about an event that was over a YEAR AWAY!  Chill the fuck out!  I am not turning your kids free range and leaving a box of pop tarts and some smokes for them and heading out for an adventure.  Quit using “No we can’t because…” as your go to response.  This is the road to self inflicted misery.

I 100% guarantee that your work will improve if you take time to create or play every day.  If it were me telling you how to do this, I would say do it first thing in the morning to start off charged, or during lunch to hit “reset”, ready to tackle the second half of the day.  But if midnight’s when you have time.  Make that time.

Iff your boss walks in and wonders why you are building a Lego Batman set, tell him it’s so you will be better, and maybe ask he or she to join you.

We all know if those TPS reports get pushed back 5 mins that ABSOLUTELY NOTHING HAPPENS.

Start playing.  Starting living larger.



7:47 PM, 09/09/15-I’m over you social media


Let me be perfectly clear.  I was an early user of Facebook and I loved it.  I am unapologetic about this.  Over the last 7 years I have had people try and give me shit about it, and their arguments are moot.  Don’t tell me “You sure are on FB a lot,” and not realize that in order for you to know this that YOU are on FB a lot.

I felt early on, that as a person who believes in the power of a personal brand, that social media can be an incredibly positive and powerful tool.

But on September 9th, 2015, at around 7:40 pm.  I took it off my phone.  Along with twitter (which I’ve never really used), and Instagram, which I use a bit.  I didn’t delete any accounts and kept the messenger function, but something in me just said.  Enough.

I’ve read a couple different articles in the past about people who have quit for a month and friends that give it up for lent, but I’ve never been one.  To be clear, I may not quit at all.  But last week, I needed a break.

I have, over the last 7 years, done my best to try an be positive on the social medias.  Snarky, yes, misconstrued, sometimes, an a-hole, allegedly.  I try and steer clear of religion, politics and sex, and despite what some may think, try to not get too caught up in it all.

Last Wednesday I realized that I was going the other direction.  Nothing terribly offensive, but the banter turned a little harsh, and I thought for a moment, “Why am even bothering with commenting on this?”

“Do I even care about this?”
“Does this subject, even affect me, and if not, why am I bothering with it, unless just to be an asshole?”

I pulled the rip cord. 7:47 p.m.

I of course wondered both if I would have withdrawals (no) and how long it would last (7 days).  I didn’t go in with the intent of quitting forever, but heres a few things I divined from a week without engaging on social media.

  1.  Nothing happened.  Well, nothing important.  I have 138 notifications to tend to, but so what.
  2. I do a lot of business and branding on FB.  Im not saying I “need” to be on it, but I have invested in it both with time and $.  If I am quitting, I’m not going out with a fizzle.
  3. Social media IS the way people interact beyond their inner small circle.  There is no denying that I get a ton of information, some of it even useful, via SOME.
  4. We all like pictures, and Instagram is cool.  But damn,  I (and you) take some stupid ass pics of some uninteresting ass shit.  I also became acutely aware of people composing their next “cool” shot.  It’s effing exhausting when you step back from it.  With that being said, I am going to start another IG account for our new dog @izzydingo.  Gotta get rich some way, and apparently exploiting your kids on there for money is frowned upon.  Uptight assholes.
  5. I will formulate more of a conscious plan for my usage and will likely not be putting either apps on my phone anytime soon.  Last night I attended an event that encouraged hashtagging and the like so I reloaded twitter and instagram.  I got home around 10, and at 10:30 I was still scrolling through some mundane ass pics of stuff I don’t care about.  For 38 mins.  It’s a time suck.
  6. I’ll likely disregard everything I have learned in the last week and be a mindless user in a month.  You’ve been warned.

Hugs + High fives,


From the Meth Lab

2013-05-12 20.26.19He walked in the house on March 28th, 2007 while Jeanne was cooking dinner, sat down and took his place in our house and hearts.  He was funny looking at best, a cross between a lab and a corgi, low slung with pointy ears, and perhaps only the second dog I had been around that had palpable swag.  If you can imagine an incarnate Rodrigue, Blue Dog, but black and white.

We named a breed after him.  The Great American Corgidor.

He came named.  Shotgun.  Who the hell names a dog Shotgun?  My mother in law had picked him up at their long time vet’s office and said that she thought he’d be good with our kids, then aged, 2.5 and 4.5, because he didn’t seem to care about anything.  Never could a truer statement been made.

His backstory was awesome.  I mean for him, not his prior owners.  Apparently they were an early 30’s couple who had been cooking up meth in their garage in the vet’s  upscale neighborhood.  One day the law came and arrested and took them away, social services took their kids, and the vet took Shotgun and another dog to his office.  He lived there for 3 months or so until we got him.

The vet said he was around 3 when we got him, the next time we took him in for a checkup, he was 6.  Who knows really.  He was somehow mostly ageless.

The use of the descriptor “Zero F*%KS to give,” is thrown around generously these days.  Shotgun may have coined the term.  He did what he wanted when he wanted.  Upon his awakening he’d go sit by the front door and wait to be let out so he could walk around our cul-de-sac.  Yes out the front door.  We dubbed him the Mayor Of K-dub (Kenilworth).  He would not chase kids, dogs, or other animals.  Just walk calmly around, taking it all in, and sniffing the wind.  People probably still sit in judgement of us letting him out the front.  It was Shotgun’s will.  We couldn’t fight it.  Everyone that met him said the same thing.  “That’s one cool dog.”

He was loving but not up in your face.  It was on his terms.  He’d position himself by your foot if you crossed your legs so you could rub his “belly” or rather his nether regions.  He wasn’t shy.  Hell that feels good, rub there.

He was the kind of dog that the kids could manhandle and he wouldn’t care.  Ian would grab his ears and he’d just sit there looking up and smiling.

He learned to standup paddle board.  No big deal.

What’s funny is that there aren’t a ton of stories about him.  He existed on his terms and would not participate in your tomfoolery.  He’d just hang out.  Hanging out was his specialty.  Want him to go fetch, tough, that’s not his thing.  Want him to walk on a leash.  Ok, for a few, but when he was over it, sometimes he’d just sit down, and you’d be stuck carrying a 45 lb lunk all the way home.

One of his favorite past times was eating dead squirrels.  Or rather eating the heads, hands, feet and tails off of them, and or dragging them into the house.  Our neighbor shoots squirrels that get in his garden with a BB gun.  Shotgun would go on his morning walkabout and find them, then sit in the monkey grass chewing the shit out them.  I can hear Paige yelling nonchalantly, “DAD, SHOTGUN HAS A SQUIRREL!  ANOTHER ONE!”

Over the past 6 months Shotgun aged rapidly.  After taking him to the vet several times, we learned he had heart failure.  Last week we had to put him to sleep because he was miserable.  Still smiling, but hacking up fluid and he couldn’t lay down due to fluid in his abdomen.

A lot of people would think Shotgun would be a prime candidate for some sort of social media “dog bucket list” stunt.  But I know that’s not his style.  I can almost hear him say “Let me go, unassumingly and quietly.  Make no fuss.  The Mayor of K-dub doesn’t need a bucket list.”

I could re-write this 100 times and never get it right, but to not write something would be wrong.

Everyone has the best dog ever.  I get it.  But there will never be another one like Shotgun.  Never.

Shotgun-Mar 28th, 2007-July 9th 2015  (plus however many years he was at the methlab- at least 3, possibly 6)

2014-11-28 12.03.00-1

Be More

11143332_10153353993389686_555400720660122094_oI was driving a couple hours to a meeting yesterday and was shuffling through the mental calendar for the next few days.  Dinner with friends, work, running, a bike ride, trying to get to a wedding, a ride, Father’s Day festivities and more work.

Father’s day.  I dwelled for a second and the questions started.

“What are we celebrating here?”
“Am I just getting credit for doing what you are supposed to do?”
“Why is this bothering me so much?”

As I drove I really gave some consideration to what it means to be a dad.  I dont think I came up with anything novel or new, but as I thought, I became filled with a desperation to be more for my kids.  At the same time, I couldn’t really place what that meant.  “Be more”.

My wife and I have always tried to attack parenting from the mindset that our lives should not revolve around our children.  We should train for ourselves, have and achieve goals, and live by example.  We should carve out time for dates, and for our wants and needs as much as we should run around town to practices and kids events.  I want my wife and I be the heros my kids look up to.  This won’t happen forever, but if that seed can be sown, hopefully it will grow.

But more and more, life feels how  the first paragraph of this post reads.  More, work, more running around, more, more.  And yet, my first go to when thinking about being a father is to be more to them.  So as Father’s day is tomorrow, I’ll leave you with my “more”.  If you have a kid, I encourage you to give some thought to what your “more” is.

Be more present when doing things with my kids-look them in the eyes.  Listen to what they are saying; what they are really asking or afraid to ask.

Be more clear when correcting them or teaching them lessons.  Explain why I am asking them to do things a particular way.

Be more fun.  Goof off, dance, jump on the trampoline, throw them in the pool 50 times in a row.

Be more patient.

Be more “yes” and less “not now” or “later”.

Be more encouraging.

Be more of myself.

Be more of a good husband and teach my kids how to love through loving and respecting their mother at all times.

Be more of a son to my dad.  Reach out more often.

Be more awesome aka be more badass.

Happy Father’s Day.

Hugs + high fives,



10425075_10203292373483678_424036090809356052_n 1426432_10205112675230084_2763648213785531425_n

Have an opinion

A couple weeks ago I posted a picture to the Instagrams that rattled a friend of mine a little.  It seemed like I was being a little bit of an a-hole with a hashtag.

In a move unlike me, I removed the picture.  While I wasn’t being really ill spirited, I saw how it could be misconstrued as a poor move.

This whole non episode got me thinking about strong opinions.  I have a reputation of being extremely opinionated on seemingly mundane things (a strong dislike of Jimmy Buffet, Guy Fieri, fast food, and complainers), but a separate conversation over the weekend reminded me that sometimes, my lackadaisical attitude to a lot of things, can be undermining my success.

What I mean is that on a lot of items I will claim to not care, or that choices don’t really matter that much to me.  This is in total contradiction to how I live the rest of my life.  One of my strengths, like it or not, are my strong opinions,  so to not take a stand on even the smallest detail is to remove ones right to complain about which direction those items go.

In todays world, we are so worried (me included) about offending people.  My line for caring may be moved way back from yours, but make no mistake, we all care.  While I would argue that forming opinions just to be an ahole is counter productive, if that’s true to you then stick by it.  We should be constantly making sure that our opinions truly align with what matters to us, and then sticking to them, regardless of what people think.

So it’s Wednesday.  If you think Kenny Chesney sucks, stick to that.  I got your back.




Whatever I fear the most…


“Whatever I fear the most is whatever I see before me
Whenever I let my guard down, whatever I was ignoring
Whatever I fear the most is whatever I see before me
Whatever I have been given, whatever I have been”
toad the wet sprocket

FEAR-Seems like a childish notion sometimes, but really it’s the root of all of our shortcomings, whether real or perceived.

It’s the ultimate limiter.  It can cripple, confuse, and question.  But the exercise of defining, facing, and dealing with our fears, I believe, is the great equalizer and ultimate empowerer.

Ah, if it were only that easy.  I won’t sit here and tell you I have it licked.  Not by a long shot, but RECOGNIZING that fear is what is holding us back in everything is the first step in some demented 12 step life program.



Saying that shit out loud.  Hell most of the time, just by doing this, we realize that our fears are just figments of our imagination or some simple procrastinations that we have put off so long, that they have blossomed into shit storms in and of themselves.




It’s okay to be afraid I think.  If it weren’t, none of us would be okay.  The game is to deal with things and chop them into bite sized fear nuggets, that you can dip into your own special sauce (gross) and keep moving forward.

So it’s Friday.  Face a fear and try and release something that has a hold on you.  Write that shit down.  Decide if it’s real or not, and think about the first bite sized nugget.

Hugs+high fives.


PS-I’ll do a follow up to this with a list of my fears.  It’s only fair.


pic from (


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