Picture this: hurrying through the airport to get to your next gate so you can catch a few precious minutes of quiet. Passing by airport bars and restaurants, all wafting the delectable smell of quick-and-easy carbs in your direction.

The donuts, burgers, fries, and bagels. 

The line looks short at that one. You can afford to stop, and so you do.

And that is often the beginning of the end of your resolve to keep your diet “on track” for the rest of the trip.

I coached competitive soccer for 25 years, and I had to train myself out of deciding too early where a player belonged.

I remember this tall, athletic kid specifically. I watched him, and, in the first twenty minutes of a tryout, I just knew he was going to be a goalkeeper.

And from that point on, without realizing it, I'd watch him through that lens. Every time he read a play well or used his size, I filed it as confirmation.

Ever have a crab boil? Here, it tends to be crawfish, but I once heard someone describe a Deep South summer as being a steamed crab in a bag. I laughed when I heard it, of course. Then I went outside in July and thought, yeah — that's about right.

If you've never run through a Memphis summer, it's hard to explain what you're really up against.

You step out the door, and the air hits you like a wall: thick, wet, and heavy. Oppressive. And there's no relief waiting for you out there. Not in the shade. Not from a breeze. The humidity will get to you no matter where you are. You're soaked before you've covered a block, whether you’re moving like a Usain Bolt or a snail.

I attended a speaking event a while back. You know the kind—good energy, electric with possibilities, surrounded by people you’d love to connect with. During a break, I was maneuvering between tables when something familiar caught my eye.

Me.

There my headshot was on someone’s phone. They were scrolling through my LinkedIn profile, no idea I was right behind them. I kept going, of course. No idea how much they invested in researching me in the moment. Maybe my bio, a few posts, or a look at my credentials. Or maybe they’d end up here (if so, hi). 

We did eventually meet, and they came in prepared. They already had questions, referenced things I said online, and a pre-loaded version of me set. In some ways, that’s pretty convenient—in other ways, it makes the real-life “first impression” a lot different than it used to be.