Memorial Day: Remembering Our Fallen

This piece was posted on ALP’s blog on May 24, 2020, and originally published in The Havok Journal on May 29, 2017.

I remember them, all of them. Every day. I don’t live for them, I could never do this justice. I cannot hold myself to any expectation worthy of their sacrifice because I could never earn what they willingly gave. Nobody can. Nobody ever could.

We cannot live for them. But we can live.

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends” John 15:13 ESV. These words, spoken millennia ago by Jesus of Nazareth are often echoed when we recall the memories of our fallen. When we recount their sacrifices. A powerful statement that projects what they gave, born of love in the purest. The part we routinely forget, though, is the preceding statement delivering the most powerful, actionable and clear sentiment in the very same scripture.

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you” John 15:12.

I will not live for my fallen brothers, I will live with them. I will love others, as I have been loved. Give an empathetic ear to the hurting, walk with the lost, and care for those in need. As best I can in my limited capacity. 

This Memorial Day, I will not drown myself in alcohol, isolate myself from my family and my community or punish myself for not following them into eternity too soon. How could I remember them so? That is not the love they gave for me. Nor is it the love Jesus displayed in His often-quoted sentiment.

I could never forget them, they are my friends, they are my brothers.

Lou Olivera...I miss him so much. This one hurts deep. One winter Lou and I hiked Mount Falcon together weekly. We talked about Rangering, a little, but mostly we talked about life, our families, faith, hope, business, our community and brotherhood. We had so much in common. Difficult childhoods that propelled us into the Army. We both had daughters about the same age. We both worked to serve veterans in the nonprofit sector after successful business careers. We were both hard charging NCO’s in 2/75, though more than a decade apart. I went to war in Afghanistan, Lou went to war in Panama when I was 10. 

Every month Lou and our group of Ranger families would have dinner, go hiking, see concerts, go for runs, and do life together. It just hasn’t been the same without him. 

Lou Olivera, Founder of the Honor Bell Foundation.

On December 23, 1989 he jumpmastered a bird of Rangers into Rio Hato Drop Zone. Upon hitting the drop zone, he was mortally wounded. The enemy left him for dead, but Lou survived. Lou came home, recovered, contributed to the Army through NATIC Labs, went to Grad School, built businesses, founded The Honor Bell, but more importantly, he created a beautiful family. After fighting his demons since that night in Panama, Lou finally lost the battle and took his life in 2018. 

Sometimes only parts of us come back from war. Truth is, we lost Lou well before I ever got the chance to meet him. While I cannot imagine the pain he endured for nearly 30 years, I only attest that the parts that came home were worth a thousand great men. And that I will forever thank God that I was called “brother” by my hero. 

Dave McDowell and his Ranger Buddy, Jake, welcomed me, always. I came home to A Co. 2/75 from Ranger School 155 lbs. soaking wet in 1999. Before my week of rest and recovery, I was required to zero my M240B and qualify, so I met the C Co. maggots in the parking lot at dusk, ready to jump on the trucks and head out. Even though I was an “A Co. guy”, Dave welcomed me with that big smile and I rolled out with new brothers. Years later, he would meet me at the C Co. CQ desk and welcome me, again. I was a new Madslasher, the platoon he grew up in. Open arms, warmly embracing his brother.

He used to laugh, but he used to make us all laugh. When we were Pre-Ranger Cadre together out at Cole Range, he’d zip around on the quad, smiling. A mountain of a man with his little MICH helmet and Oakley’s, we likened him to a circus bear on a tricycle. When I committed to the Best Ranger Competition (BRC), he was there for us. Any range, any training, anything we needed to be successful, that’s the kind of man Dave was. He used to say, “I’m not doing Best Ranger, but you guys are and I’m going to do whatever it takes to help you be successful!” It was one of the best showing of any 75th Ranger Regiment BRC team, placing 1st, 3rd, 7th, 8th and 9th out of 15 finishing teams. I remember Dave. Man, how we laughed together.

Dave McDowell (green shirt) and Ranger Buddies post 2006 Best Ranger Competition.

Lance Vogeler was on that very same 2006 75th Ranger Regiment BRC team. He was so upset when he didn’t finish, having sustained an injury during training that forced him to withdraw from the road march. His laughter filled the vans during our months of train up. It never mattered that Lance didn’t finish that year. Lance had the courage to toe the line to begin with. His attempt was a success at its’ onset.

Jay Blessing was a talented artist. He went to Ranger School, as we all did, and found himself struggling in the Mountains, refusing to ever give up. He finally buckled and they discovered that he had been suffering from pneumonia and a collapsed lung. Back home at Ft. Lewis, Jay recovered slowly under the mentorship of Battalion legend and retired Marine, Mr. Ray Fuller, in the Battalion Arms Room. Jay was exceptional at the job. He soaked up every drop of knowledge he could gather from the Legendary Marine and kept the Battalion heavy guns operational.

Jay Blessing. Photo Credit 2/75 Ranger Regiment.

Jay would not accept defeat and returned to Ranger School, grinding through the suck to reach the “Ranger objective”. His body once again rejected the circumstances, but his resolve rejected failure. Jay limped into graduation with yet another case of pneumonia and lung complications and earned his tab. Mission Complete. He was on his way to the Special Forces Qualification Course when we got alerted for the Winter Strike of 2003. Committed to his brothers, Jay deployed becoming the first casualty of the 2nd Ranger Battalion in the Global War on Terror.

Casey Casavant was hysterical. The man with a smile and personality as large as the Big Sky of his home Montana was incapable of a straight face. He was full of belly laughs and cheer. You could always pick out Casey on an airfield or any other objective. He was the one with a 1-Liter bottle of Mountain Dew in his hand. He used to stuff at least two or three into his assault pack or ruck. When Casey and I attended the Primary Leadership Development Course (NCO Education System 1) with our Ranger Buddies, we felt like strangers in a strange land.

The cadre determined that the Rangers needed to allow our fellow “soon to be Sergeants” the opportunity to lead in the field, un-hindered by our experience or personalities. This was a good call. The solution was each of us “Batt. Boys” would serve as the Radio Telephone Operator (RTO) for every platoon in the field for the whole training exercise. This was a bad call. I cannot recall the specifics of the hilarity that ensued each night, but of one thing I am certain: the evenings full of Batt. Boy Radio hour, verbally thrashing each other and our fellow students and hitting pre-determined bump frequencies so as not to be detected by our instructors, was definitely Casey’s idea! I can hear him laughing from the other side of the Company bivouac now.

James Nehl (first on right, Yankees Jersey) and the men of the Blacksheep A Co. 2/75 Ranger, 1998.

James Nehl was another one of my heroes. When I arrived at the Blacksheep, he was the 1st Squad Leader and I was a Maggot under the leadership of his brother-in-law, Daryl. I was always at a slight distance, but James was quiet and strong; the kind of silent confidence that made you want to be better and win his respect. Growing up 3 squads down the hallways I always took notice to James because he was confident, intentional and innovative.

His squad always seemed to be doing something different, trying something new. In hindsight he struck me as a bit shy, but when he laughed, his smile would light up his face and quickly enlist the entire room in the joke. After becoming a young Ranger Leader, my M240B team was attached to James squad, “The Deer Hunters” and I couldn’t have been more elated. Being let into his circle was an honor. I forever wanted to make him proud.

Kris Domeij was one of the most confident young Rangers I had the pleasure to serve with. As his Squad Leader in charge of the maneuver section he was attached to at the beginning of the war he was always technically and tactically proficient. A Forward Observer to be counted on regardless of the circumstance, but more than this, one of the boys regardless of his youth in rank. You couldn’t dislike Kris, he was awesome. During our first deployment, I recall a long patrol in the Lwara Dasta, which left the section completely out of water and burning up in the heat of the desert. The conditions were so bad that one of our Rangers had to be extracted due to severe heat casualty.

Kris Domeij.

Kris would finish the mission. I looked over during a halt to see him finishing off the last drops of his saline I.V. bag. He looked over at me with that rueful smile and big cheeks and merely offered, “I was thirsty, Sergeant”.

“Domeij, you know you just basically downed a canteen of salt water, right?”

His shoulders shrugged off the matter. I shook my head and we moved on. Sometime later, Kris approached me and said, “Uh, can I have a sip of your water, Sergeant, my mouth is as dry as a salt lick!?” Later that mission in a hide site, Kris asked me if he could take off his boots to cool down his feet. “Charlie is doing it…” Our Air Force Enlisted Tactical Air Controller (ETAC). I always see Kris and Charlie in that site together, two larger than life personalities and a combined force to be reckoned with. Exceptional. So talented.

Josh Wheeler had another smile that could light up the darkness. We met during Advance Special Operations Training course held by the Battalion. All of the Squad Leaders from the Battalion rallied for two weeks during one of the most memorable and constructive training session I experienced in the Army. We were, essentially, unleashed in small teams of SSG’s across a myriad of missions. Josh was so humble, so curious. He didn’t care what company anyone was from, he only cared about being better. I admired him so much.

Brian Bradshaw was so similar. I met this young man as his Platoon Instructor during Infantry Basic Officer Leadership Course (IBOLC) at Ft. Benning in 2008. IBOLC is a 13-week cycle to prepare newly commissioned Lieutenants to serve as Platoon Leaders in the Army. Each of my 40-man platoon would leave at the end of our cycle, go to Ranger School and then immediately deploy to combat in Iraq or Afghanistan. I cannot imagine how this must have felt. Brian was sharp, quick and intelligent. He cracked me up with his silly throwback Oakley Razors that I was certain were created before even he was.

Brian Bradshaw (back row, fourth from left) and the men of IBOLC class 501-08.

Scott Dussing. Scott (and his Ranger buddy Shaun and C.J.) were the first Rangers from my squad who successfully completed Ranger School. Scott taught me so much about leadership. Regardless of how much the missions sucked, how hard the PT session was, or how bad he was hurting, his big Texas smile would never fade. Shortly after the towers fell on 9/11, A Co. 2/75 was sent to Jordan for a pre-planned annual training exercise. While we were there, we watched the war kick off with 3/75 jumping into Afghanistan at Objective Rhino. We were downtrodden, feeling like we’d been passed over and missed our chance (oh how little we knew then)! Scott kept smiling. We laughed so hard when he and Shaun got the AC generators going for the tent in the sweltering heat, taking the first blasts of cool air we’d felt in a months for themselves. They dropped to their knees in front of the AC tube and dropped trow, letting the cool air hit their junk while laughing hysterically.

I will always be so proud of you, Scott.

My time with these young men was a capstone to my military service and one of the most special experiences I had in the Army. Amongst a platoon of focused, young leaders, Brian was always one of the platoon mates who would tarry the longest, ask the last questions, gather the last pearls of wisdom from my training partner, Bryan Hart, and me. Only Brian would crack that last joke to cut the atmosphere. He would exhaust me with questions and I loved every minute of it. I just loved that guy.

Love brings us back. Back to the start, back to today. The smiles we see in the dark. The little chuckles and moments we carry to the end. More names pour out in the silence for me: Damian Ficek, Jared Van Aalst, Steve Langmack, Ed Homeyer, Ricardo Barrazza. Men I served with and respected. These names, these people and the thousands of others that will not be lost on my heart.

Today is Memorial Day. A Day to remember and for those of us able, a day to live. Perhaps a day to hike with the family, visit with our neighbors, reconnect with old buddies and remember. Hopefully, we remember with a smile, but I respect that some may do so with the bitter sting of a loss on such a deeply personal level that Gold Star Mother, Scoti Domeij captures in “Dreading Memorial Day”. I simply cannot imagine the loss of a child or a spouse. I also respect that Memorial Day may hold a completely different kind of sting to those who bare the pain of such traumatic loss experienced before their very eyes. Memories of loss seen under violent circumstances.

My heart is with you. Truly. I hope you may know how loved you are by our God and your brothers and sisters. 

Wherever you are today, however you remember, please do not remember alone. Call a friend, call your family or a neighbor. Draw close to someone who loves you, please. If you feel the weight of your loss today in such a way that is so heavy, so profound that it chokes out the love that our brothers and sisters displayed in their sacrifice, please call one of the resources below.

Veterans Crisis Line: 1-800-273-8255 and Press 1

TAPS: 1-800-959-8277

“One for the Airborne Ranger in the Sky”

RLTW,

Brandon Young

This article originally appeared in the Havok Journal.

Working Mom Trade Offs

“You guys are so busy. You’re always doing something. How do you keep up with it all”?

I don’t. And here’s a secret: none of us do. 

I say “no” pretty ruthlessly, to adding things to our life. Just ask Matt, my sweet husband. He and I have very different thought processes regarding getting to a goal. He starts at the endgame and works his way backward: “Wouldn’t it be awesome to own an outdoor gear store/jiu-jitsu gym/blacksmithing shop,” etc., while I start pulling back on the reigns, thinking of the hundreds of considerations and steps that need to be made before we become small business millionaires. I often have to stop myself from an immediate compulsion to give a head shake and a “Nope” and reconsider something that could eventually be fun and rewarding. 

There are some real-life challenges of being committed to living an integrated life as a professional, a parent, a friend, and an individual with our own interests. We all have people in our lives who seemingly have it all figured out. Their houses always appear impeccably clean, they prep meals every weekend, keeping gardens lush and bountiful, and their daughters’ hair is always styled with cute accessories, while my skills are strictly limited to ponytails. 

The reality is that no one checks all of these boxes all the time. It just seems that way. Most days, we’re just trying to remember to put our overflowing garbage cans out on the curb for pick-up day and make sure everyone is fed decently, including ourselves. Some days, that’s the mark of success. 

The truth is, when you’re trying to get everything right, you’re getting nothing right. No one has everything, though we can have just enough to keep us grateful. Life is one big trade-off.

Anyone who wants some quiet personal and reflection time in the morning before the day gets out of hand, especially parents, will tell you they set the alarm earlier than ever. To get that uninterrupted cup of coffee in silence, a workout while catching up on a podcast, or any other prep for the day.

When my daughter, Rory, moved out of the confines of a crib to a big girl bed last year, we (attempted) to set up some boundaries as to when she could get out of bed in the morning. She’s got a night light that changes colors, so we made some rules as to what she can do depending on the color of the light. Think red, yellow, and green like a stoplight … I’m sure some of you parents reading this did something similar. The novelty lasted a few months until she realized Mommy was up before her and, like any 4-year-old, got a serious case of FOMO and could care less about Mom’s expectations for alone time. When she came out of her room, I was doing my daily mobility exercises in the garage with my foam roller and other torture devices that inevitably became toys for her, the garage a playground.   

These are the moments I realize that all my good intentions and solid leadership communication—setting boundaries, the big girl talks, and the killer night light—mean as little to her as the importance of the quiet time I’ve sacrificed 30 minutes of precious sleep for. My irritation sets in, though I cannot ignore how endearing her bid for connection is. She just wants to spend time with me. I am fully aware the day is coming when she will not want to at all, and I’ll be the one stalking her for quality time and irritating her. That’s when the Mom guilt sets in. 

I get to choose in those moments to hip-fire a head shake and a “nope” to my daughter or to pause, take a deep breath (as I teach her to), rethink that “no,” and consider its impact, as I do with Matt. I’m not trying to squelch either their enthusiasm or love. Frankly, I need that just as much as I need to roll out my quads or put a plan in place for a major financial decision. 

All are important, so it’s really a matter of considering the trade-offs - If not this, then what? I want Rory to know that it’s important that we care for ourselves physically and mentally and to witness Mom and Dad doing that. But not at the expense of forsaking our relationships, which are just as important to living a healthy, integrated life. I want Matt to know that we are together in our wild schemes to the end and that I am at my best with a strategy. It’s our classic couple superpower - we’re better together than we could ever be apart. 

“You have to be very careful about to what (and to whom) you’re giving the best part of your day. ”

— Philipp Meyer

I find that being honest about the irritation and endearment are both important, not only to myself but to those around me. Being a working parent is hard. Trying not to screw up anything - my kid, my job, myself. Being a working spouse is hard. Trying not to keep score as to who is doing more housework during the week or who missed their jiu-jitsu class because the other partner is traveling for work and there’s no coverage for the kids and, at the same time, trying to support and balance each other’s individual aims and the family's dreams. But I’m fortunate to recognize these boundaries as they come up and decide to bend, not break, for the sake of what I’m truly going for - a rich, integrated life of love and meaning WITH my family, not solo.

On my grave, my headstone is not going to read, “Mediocre jiu-jitsu player, average yoga teacher, and so-so writer,” though my family is the kind of pranksters that would do that to get the last laugh. I hope every day, I’m making the right choices so that my family will decide to remember me as a loving and dedicated wife and mom. I’ll continue to make sure I make the proper trade-offs for what matters so someone else doesn’t make them for me. 

Marking Our Mountaintop Moments

I struggle to remember the pain of the push to the summit, but I’ll never forget the joy of the moment at the top. Monarch Pass is 11,312’ above sea level and sits on the continental divide in the Colorado Rockies. It was the fall of 2014, and we ran one American flag across the country from the Golden Gate Bridge to Walter Reed Hospital in Bethesda, MD. We started the 3,600-mile trek on 9/11 and ended it on Veterans Day, 11/11. The Old Glory Relay was an ambitious bid from the start, and the obstacle the Rockies presented was a concern from the initial planning. 

By the time the flag got to Colorado, it had already ground through the heat of the Nevada desert, the dust of America’s loneliest road, record heat in Sacramento, and a string of challenges - teams showing up late, teams showing up light, and teams not showing up at all! But Team RWB drove on to the objective and handed over Old Glory to a team of Rangers in Colorado. Now, I’m a bit partial on the matter, but if you’re going to take a hill, you call the Rangers! 

On most days of the relay, we covered about 60 miles. This day–summit day–we covered 20. Twenty miles east and 3,000 feet up! We had an incredible team–a wrecking crew of Rangers, an ultra-running champion, veterans, friends, and family–and we took the hill together. 

Slogging up the mountain was a fight for altitude, one-quarter mile at a time. We trailed the flag runner with two support vans, one with teammates hanging out the open door, ready to sub out and take the flag, the other collecting exhausted runners as they made the handoff. These athletes typically took down miles at a time, but this day, we took tenth of a mile chunks at worst, quarter miles at best. We leap-frogged vans, replacing tired runners with semi-fresh teammates while rehydrating and reloading calories to drive on. 

Some doubled over and heaved while smiling and looking to the summit, relishing the challenge and feeling truly alive in the struggle. It was beautiful. And when we crested the hill, the shared sense of accomplishment and relief exploded into elation. We had made the summit. Hugs and high-fives were aplenty. Beers were cracked. Toasts were made. And we marked the moment. We marked the moment with our stories of one another on the climb. We recalled moments where one stumbled, and the other picked them up. We recalled the funny moments - awkward handoffs, botched van dismounts, and emergency bathroom breaks! 

And we recalled the meaningful moments that carried us to the top when we thought we had run out of gas, like the two Rangers who met on the trail and hadn’t seen one another since they both jumped into Panama during Operation Just Cause in 1989. Lou was mortally wounded by the enemy on the drop zone, but Antonio (”Doc”) kept him alive. And there they were, side by side with Old Glory some thirty years later—a testament to perseverance and grit. 

Marking that moment mattered. Marking our mountaintop moments always matters. And it doesn’t take running up the Continental Divide to necessitate them. We summit mountaintops in business and life all the time -  a project that launched on time or before the deadline, a new customer sale, a service call that went longer than expected but didn't end until the customer was delighted, or making the Circle of Excellence for top sales performance. These and many other examples can be mountaintop moments if we recognize them for what they are and mark them accordingly. 

I was reminded of this last week while Blayne and I reviewed our 2023 performance. We had another smashing year - 63% growth, plussing up the team with talent, and having a blast with leaders we care about doing big things in the world. And how did we celebrate this? How did we mark the mountaintop moment? We didn’t. We refreshed and reloaded over the holidays and got right back on the trail, hitting two big National Sales Meetings and turning in our book manuscript. 

I am reminded of one of the leaders we serve perfect words about celebrating accomplishments: “I always considered myself a mountaintop jumper going from one goal to another, but I recognize that I need to pause and celebrate those moments before looking towards the next challenge.” And I am convicted to take her words to heart and celebrate right along with her. It’s time to mark this mountaintop moment before reorienting towards the next goal and moving out to achieve it. This mountaintop, and in fact all mountaintops, are cause for pause and celebration. 

We owe it to ourselves, our team, and our community. It’s a time to reflect upon the long nights and late flights that got us here. A time to remember the challenging presentations and big wins. A time to recall the tough decisions that got us here and the people who carried us when we needed help. Because if we don’t, what was it all for? What is it all for if not for making the world a little better than before by doing hard things with people we care about? 

As I write this today, I know we have done that. I know we’ve made a difference in others' lives and that our success reflects their successes. I can see it on my LinkedIn feed with so many colleagues celebrating their mountaintop moments, and we are committed to joining you. We’ve earned it. We’ll mark it. 

More to follow on this later. Hold us accountable.

Embracing Our Greatness

Nobody wakes up in the morning and thinks, “I want to suck today!” But that doesn’t mean everyone wakes up and steels themselves to be great. I suspect that everyone does want to be great, though we often settle for average or good enough. Why? 

We’ve been thinking about this a lot lately and find there are three common reasons that people don’t chase greatness: 1) greatness is hard; 2) greatness comes with high expectations; and 3) greatness can be lonely. 

Greatness is the consistent achievement of our goals compounded over time. And consistently achieving at a high level is hard as hell. This is the first obstacle. 

Greatness is hard. Staring down greatness gives us the reality check that it’s going to hurt. That is because it requires sacrifice. We sacrifice our time, our comfort, and our energy in the pursuit of greatness. This means that we forego a lot of easy options and downtime. It doesn't mean we have no downtime in the pursuit of greatness, but it does mean that we give it a secondary position in service to greatness. And that is damned hard because the easy options are…well, easy, and downtime costs nothing from us. 

We are constantly faced with choices in our daily lives. Many of them require little thought, but some of them take some real effort, and it is these subtle but important decisions that end up moving us closer to, or further away from greatness. Like finding ourselves at 4:00 pm and knowing that we could either make one more sales call or hit the Starbucks drive-through and head for home. Greatness calls us to forego the latte and take one more crack at a difficult account before calling it a day. It’s the harder right instead of the path of least resistance. It’s a small, uphill step along the path to the summit. 

Distractions and downtime seem to be always lurking around the corner in our remote work world. It’s one thing to stay focused when we’re working on a production line, but it’s not so simple when working from a computer where we can hop a window into a limitless world of options that occupy us. But we have to close those windows and get about the work that matters if we aim for greatness. 

And taking that aim can feel scary because we don’t know if we’ll actually hit the target. 

There’s a growing number of young people I interact with (largely young men) who are reluctant to pull back those arrows and take shots at greatness, largely because they are afraid to fail. When I ask them about it, many have shared the “What if” mixtape constantly playing in the background: What if I fail?, What if I look stupid?, What if I am embarrassed? And so on. But what if you win? That’s hard to consider over the clamor of doubt but important in the quest for greatness. This is why we’ve started asking people, “What’s the best that could happen?” right alongside the worst. 

If we’re going to embrace greatness, we must accept that falling short is better than failing to try at all. We must reject the bait to run and hide and take the chance to fly. 

Greatness comes with high expectations. Staring down greatness means others will expect more from us and we may not want to be in positions to let others down. We see it every year in the Super Bowl. Within the same breath, the champion is celebrated, and speculations of “next year” begin. Could he be the greatest quarterback of all time? How many contracts are up at the end of this season? What about the offensive and defensive coordinators…will they be head coaches next year? On and on it goes. 

Great teams earn great expectations, and oftentimes, the reward for great work is more work! That’s the name of the game because great teams and great people can handle the expectations. They’ve earned the right to own them and the confidence to approach them. But if we’re being honest, playing from behind is easier. It’s easier to be an unknown or an underdog, but we only get one chance to be that. Once you’re found out, you’re on front street.  

Though we may shy from high expectations, do we really want low expectations? Do we want others to expect little from us and resource us accordingly? Those with little expectations are given little resources. Yet, “to whom much is given, much is expected (Luke 12:48).” We’ll take the resources, so let’s also embrace the expectations and approach the target with earned confidence, a confidence that is built in the arena for the arena. And that arena doesn’t have to be a lonely place, but it often feels that way when we pursue greatness. 

Greatness is lonely. Those of us who seek greatness push harder, go further, and run faster. We get ahead of the masses and stand above the crowd. We take the hard path and leave the easy walk to others. And we find ourselves alone more often than not. Not because we look down upon others or think ill of them, but because we have an internal drive and ambition that presses us on toward greatness. It’s not about me against you. It’s about me against me. I know I can do better, therefore I do better. 

And while that can feel lonely, the truth is we are not alone, especially when we are on a team. Nothing done in isolation is done alone. That extra sales call that leads to a new client impacts the rep who won it, and the entire team. Don’t believe me? Watch the winning District Sales Manager at the end of the banquet night and see what happens. You will find her taking a team photo at the end of the night, trophy in hand. Because nothing her reps did in isolation was done alone. 

Being great is not synonymous with being alone. Find the other weirdos who want to be great just like you do and connect with them. Drive them as they drive you. Inspire them as they inspire you. And compete with them as they compete with you.

Annual Letter 2024

Dear Friends, 

It’s hard to believe that we are kicking off our fifth year in business and sending our fourth annual letter to you all. It’s been a heck of a run so far, and it feels like we’re just getting started! 

Looking back on 2023, it feels like a year of completion, transition, and maturation. In both business and life, our team experienced a lot of growth and change. After three years of hard work and dedication, Brandon graduated with a Master of Divinity, Leadership from Denver Seminary. Blayne and his family traded living in sunny Tampa for 10+ years for all four seasons of Maine. We added a full-time team member and deepened our relationships with other partners and small businesses to help us advance our vision and mature our processes. 

And while we’re updating: 

• Kelly began taking on responsibilities as Charge Nurse and led three women’s bible studies while facilitating a marriage group with Brandon.

• Jeni spearheaded the effort to sell a house, buy a house, and move our family…twice! And still found time to teach yoga, learn some guitar, and be an absolutely amazing mother.

• Jaden completed One Station Unit Training (OSUT) at Ft. Moore and is stationed at 1/32 Infantry, 10th Mountain Division, Ft. Drum, NY

• Dylan graduated from high school (a year early), started working, driving, and getting super strong. He’ll be off to college this summer. 

• Elli joined the AXO sorority, made the Dean’s list in the Fall semester, and enjoyed the beginning of the Coach Prime era for the CU Buffs! 

• Dalton is an official teenager, is crushing Florida virtual school, and continues to blow our minds with a skateboard or snowboard beneath his feet.

• Penny is becoming a star, and she knows it. She loves art and music and is totally obsessed with Taylor Swift. We’re gonna have our hands full with this one.

We came into 2023 with some momentum and kept it going with a few awesome events to start the year, including a mainstage presentation at Thermo ImmunoDiagnostic Division’s National Sales Meeting, which was an absolute blast. 

Something else that we did early in the year was a deliberate, no-kidding strategy meeting in Breckenridge, Colorado, that provided so much clarity on where we’d been and where we wanted the business to go. Brandon and Blayne spent a couple of days locked in a condo strategizing and planning and then spent a weekend skiing and snowboarding with Kelly and Jeni. After that, Applied Leadership Partners was on a course for an amazing year. 

Our intentions coming out of the retreat were: 

• Continue to meaningfully but responsibly grow revenue.

• Limit air and overnight travel to (2) trips per partner per month.

• Generously share truth and love in a way that creates value beyond our clients.

• Continue challenging ourselves and grow. Embrace nervousness.

• Maintain freedom and agency regarding how and with whom we work.

• Create a functional, professional business with a small, tight, agile team.

Here is a quick overview of how we did in 2023 by the numbers, and then we’ll talk a bit more about how it happened. 

• 61 total client engagements (24 in-person, 37 virtual). We nailed it on travel days!

• Revenue was up 63% over 2022 while maintaining similar profit margins. This is actually more growth than we were shooting for and certainly stretched us at times, but we’re thrilled with it!

• We added Sarah Holzhalb to the team in April as Director of Marketing and Business Development. Her work has been incredibly valuable in shoring up the business and setting the stage for future growth. The numbers don’t lie. 

• Marketing Year Over Year growth by the numbers (2022 vs. 2023)

• Total Followers - 133% 

• Page and Profile Reach (users) - 292%

• Page and Profile Impressions - 311%

• Posts - 476%

• Post Reach (users) - 306%

• Post Impressions - 288%

• Video Viewers - 463%

• We launched a monthly newsletter that we’d love for you to subscribe to and share with friends.

• We’ve had a blast recording new episodes of our refreshed Applied Leadership Podcast. We aim to release two episodes a month, and you can listen and watch on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and YouTube.

• We also sold and subsequently wrote a book! The manuscript is complete and is off to the publisher. It’s been a long, difficult, and rewarding journey so far…and we know that there is much work still to do. Please stay tuned as we work toward a big release in early 2025! If you’re interested in learning more or would like to purchase books for your organization, send a note to operations@appliedleadershippartners.com.

In 2023, our offering expanded but was also sharpened. We added some new content but also refined some of our most requested modules of instruction and found new ways to deliver them. We created and delivered: 

• Brilliance In The Basics sales skills training. Teaching the core, human aspects of effective selling. Participants learn and practice the skills needed to build genuine, trusting relationships and close business in the real world. This offering is suited for sales organizations that use an existing model but wish to increase sales effectiveness by improving their reps’ human dimensions of selling. 

• We created our Front Line Leader Program, which is designed for front line leaders, especially those newer to management roles. The program is delivered through engaging videos and an accompanying workbook. It is self-paced and able to be scaled across an enterprise. The program is ideal for companies in service industries, retail, and hospitality. 

• We focused more keenly on Advising leadership teams, deepening our relationship with key partners, and serving leadership leadership teams who are navigating growth, change, and uncertainty. Being in the same foxhole with these incredibly talented and committed leaders is a gift we do not take lightly. 

• We also upped our game in Keynote speaking and had the privilege to speak from the main stage at a number of conferences, kickoff meetings, and events. 

While we worked with several new clients last year, our business is mostly growing deeper. We have some wonderful, long-term partnerships where we feel truly part of the team and are able to really understand the organization, the people, and their needs. We absolutely love having these kinds of relationships and feel that we can add so much as real partners to an organization. 

In the coming year, we aim to continue doing more of the same while growing meaningfully and responsibly. We are having a great time with this work; we love the people we work with, and the primary goal is to keep it going. This business is our infinite game. We’ll do that by deepening relationships with our long-time clients, by reaching out and establishing new partnerships, through the expansion of our Front Line Leader program, and by (slowly) bringing some new faces to the podium. We’ll continue working behind the scenes on our book to ensure that it comes to life in a way that will deliver as much value as possible to everybody who reads it. 

We’re also very proud that our business and teammates are making good on our commitment to servant leadership. Over the past year, Blayne served as the chairman of the board of the Armed Services Arts Partnership (ASAP) and helped them to serve over 1100 veterans and military families members through their amazing programs. 

Brandon has recently joined the board of directors of Gallant Few and will be working to support the Army Ranger community. Of note, we also made $5,000 contributions to both organizations to help support and advance their missions. This is huge for us, as we started this company with the goal to be generous and give back, and it feels wonderful to be in a place where we can do this. Ideally, there will be much more to come. 

Finally, we want to leave you with a few broad thoughts on the year ahead. In the way that 2021 was the year that everyone couldn’t wait to start, it feels like 2024 is one that a lot of folks would prefer to skip altogether. We know that many of you are rightfully concerned about the state of things socially, financially, and geopolitically. It seems that almost no matter who you read and listen to, they’re predicting, or at least alluding to, some form of calamity before the year is over. For our part, we can’t offer a look into the crystal ball. We don’t know what will happen in Ukraine or Gaza, and we have no clue how the Presidential election will play out. We’re not sure if inflation will get worse or better, and we can’t tell you what will happen with stock prices or real estate. Here is what we can offer, and we hope it’s helpful. 

1. Pay Attention and Participate. Do your best to stay engaged in what’s happening in your community and the world around you. Do so in a way that gives the space for sanity and reflection. Be informed without being consumed. Take small actions where you can. Help a neighbor, vote in a primary election, go to a school board meeting, raise money for charity, volunteer in your community, or whatever makes a positive contribution, while allowing you to live your life. 

2. Prepare. Prediction is a fool’s errand. We cannot predict an uncertain future, but we can prepare for it. Consider your circumstances and some of the variables at play, then figure out what you, your family, and your business can do to either weather difficulty, or seize an opportunity. This might look like saving a few bucks or getting healthier or repairing a relationship. It may turn out to be a rough year, and it may not, but you’ll be prepared either way. 

3. Press On. We can’t sit on our hands and wait to see how it all turns out. Please don’t just mail it in this year. If others want to do that, fine. You’ll just be that much further ahead come 2025. Continue to invest in your skills, your team, your projects, and your family. If you’re paying attention and prepared, you can confidently move forward, knowing that you’ll be able to adapt or adjust if needed. 

We’ll close this year’s letter by simply saying THANK YOU! Too many people to mention have offered their belief, support, and encouragement to us over the past 4 years, and our business and lives would not be nearly as fulfilling without it. We’re off to the races in 2024, and we can’t wait to see you out on the trail!

All our best, 

Brandon, Blayne, Sarah, and the ALPs family

The Little Lights Aren’t Twinkling

Have you ever thought about (or experienced) the frustration or squabbles that ensue while decorating the family Christmas tree? What is supposed to be a fun and satisfying holiday tradition can quickly become a battle of strong opinions and absurd attempts to control the light placement and ornament styling. 

This year, our family’s tree became a metaphor for everyday life. 

We spent an afternoon decorating it, and what had started as a highly anticipated activity turned into a life lesson by the time we finished. My daughter, Rory, is four years old, and her awareness of, and desire to, celebrate as many holidays as possible has skyrocketed this year. My husband Matt and I took her to a Christmas tree farm, where she walked through all the trees and proudly chose the one to bring home (from the two acceptable options we gave her). 

Once we got the tree up in the stand, I climbed into the garage attic and lifted dusty lids off numerous boxes filled with ornaments we’d been gifted or bought as mementos over the years. This year, we chose just a few personal ones that mean the most to us and then filled in the rest with glittery red and silver balls. I stood on a ladder, squirreling my way around the tree, wrapping the lights, trying to make them as even as possible. Rory ecstatically hung her handmade ornaments of painted popsicle sticks and molded clay. All 10 of them clustered in a two-foot area on the lowest two branches of the tree. Each time she added a new one to the already crowded section, I had to take a deep breath and hold back the suggestion that maybe she could choose a different area to hang an ornament in.

By the time we finished, half of the lights had stopped working, and I was frustrated that I couldn’t figure out why. Some of the branches still wouldn’t fall, revealing significant gaps in the trunk. There were empty spots where we missed putting any ornaments. It was the most unconventional and incomplete tree we’ve had yet. Yet, lit up in the darkened front room brought joy and warmth to our home.  

Later that evening, my daughter got out of bed to go to the bathroom. Passing by the tree as she walked back to her bedroom, she stopped, looked at it, cheerfully raised her hands above her head, and exclaimed, “Mommy, it’s okay that the lights aren’t working. It’s still so beautiful!”

As usual, I was schooled in the College of Life by my preschooler.  

Our days are uneven: lush and plentiful in some areas, barren in others. There are some weeks, months, maybe even years where we are just trying to put one foot in front of the other and maintain some equilibrium, going through the motions. Other times, we’re cruising through new adventures and milestones and checking off the bucket list. Both are important. Those moments when we feel “in the middle,” we are still moving forward. We can plant the seeds for growth and nurture progress to more abundant days in the future. 

There are gaping holes that can’t be covered. There will be failures, shortcomings, and difficult times. Be transparent with your struggles and challenges. Writer Annie Dillard stated, "If we want our lives to feel meaningful and have gravity, we need to ensure our days feel meaningful and have gravity, too.” Let the holes in your life remain uncovered so the light can shine through and show you what is possible. You never know when you could be the light for someone’s hope for better days and improvements. Shame cannot survive the light. 

No matter what, it’s beautiful if you take the time to look. The effort and love we put into decorating the tree and making it ours is what makes it special. In yogic and Stoic philosophy, all things are neutral. It’s the personal labels we put on things and situations that make them appealing or repulsive to us. With the tree, and in life, we can put a microscope on it, expose all the tiny ugly parts, and deem it awful. Or we can step back, take the entire picture in, and observe it as a whole entity.

Most things we stress about truly don’t matter. It doesn’t matter that Rory’s artistic choice was to put all her ornaments in one spot or that not all the lights don’t work. Trust me, we aren’t in the running for a home decor award from Southern Living. The more we learn to leave “what is” alone, especially the difficult stuff that does matter but we have little to no control over, the more acceptance and contentment will steadily find us. Acceptance also doesn’t mean apathy and disregard. It means knowing what we can change and not letting what we can’t have rent-free space in our brains. 

If you view life in bits and pieces, you’ll always change your mind about whether it’s good, joyous, terrible, or tragic. Observed together, all the broken pieces come together, and we can raise our arms in the air and proclaim its beauty. The ordinary, well-lived moments add up to an extraordinary experience. 

This week, a visitor to our house commented, “Where are all your ornaments? The tree is pretty bare”. I replied that we added our favorite decorations, what we deemed essential. For me, the experience of this year’s tree will go down in our family history as the most loved and remembered. I pray I feel the same about life as each year closes, hoping the next year will be the best, focused on the beautiful essential pieces of it.

Imperfect, In Earnest

If you’ve looked around lately, you’ve surely noticed that the world seems a bit troubled at the moment. And while it’s hard to know if it’s any more or less troubled than normal, the vibe certainly feels particularly heavy right now. And if you’re anything like us, you’re probably spending at least some time thinking about what you can/should do about it, which is a very difficult question to answer. 

On one end of the spectrum, we could simply throw our hands up and just say, “the hell with it”. We could easily decide that the world’s problems are too big and too many for any of us to do much about it…so let’s just have some fun and let it burn. 

On the other extreme, we could decide that we need to solve all of the world’s problems and not take a moment of rest until we do! We might feel like there is no time to waste - no time for fun or joy or humor or relaxation, because the fate of the world is upon our shoulders. 

Clearly, there is a lot of room between the two ends of the spectrum, but finding the proper balance can be hard. How do we exist and participate in a world that needs so much work? How do we use our precious time on this earth to both make it a bit better AND enjoy our lives? This is a question that has been on our minds and we’re hearing from our partners too. We’ve heard it most often from our fellow military veterans. Those wired and trained for service can find it particularly tricky to manage this dynamic. 

So this Veterans Day, we’re sharing some thoughts that we hope will provide you with some perspective and encouragement as you navigate life in a world that can feel a bit overwhelming at times. First, some perspective…

Armistice Day

Many of you may know this, but Veterans Day was originally introduced as Armistice Day. The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month (11/11/1918) marked the end of hostilities in WWI. Of course, back then it wasn’t called World War One, it was known as "The Great War" or by some as "The War to End All Wars". Looking back over the 100 or so years since, it is obvious that it was not the world to end all wars. Less than 20 years later, Europe and eventually the entire world was aflame with WWII. Then only five years later there was Korea. Then Vietnam…and on and on it goes. 

Whether we like it or not, our history is marked with a continuous string of armed conflicts, and while we can all hope that this trend will change in the future, our history (and our current observations) suggest that likely isn’t the case. We think this is a big reason that we continue to revere and honor serving in the military and make a big deal out of Veterans Day…because while we can and should pray for peace, we know that war is a part of our lives.

Struggle and Progress

Wars are not the only challenges our nation has experienced over the past 100 years. While international conflicts provide notable marks on the timeline, we’ve had plenty of domestic struggles and many victories too. We’ve been constantly confronted with things that simply do not live up to our ideals. And in many cases, we’ve fought to reconcile and overcome them. From women's suffrage to the New Deal to Civil Rights to Technology, we've had to face our flaws, and try to find a better way. America is a complex and unique place. Our history is full of things for which we should be incredibly proud, and others for which we feel embarrassed, even ashamed. There is an inherent messiness that comes with the pursuit of big and great things. And it can be difficult to wrap our heads and hearts around this messiness, but we believe that we must. Because just as America has done over the past 250 years, we each strive, in our own way, to move forward, imperfect yet in earnest. 

Our Choice

This complexity and inescapable messiness is what we are all faced with everyday in our own lives and careers - this dichotomy of what's broken and what's possible. We see it all around us, in ways both big and small. We can’t help but recognize so many ways in which the world seems beyond repair, but if we look closely, we can also see so much cause for hope. If I wake up early in the morning and read the news, I might be totally bummed out. But when I go get my little daughter out of bed and she asks for a snuggle, all seems to be right in the universe. It seems that things are not totally dark nor totally sunny, there is both, and we have to accept that.

If we truly care about making things better, we must be willing to acknowledge what we find wrong, ugly, and in need of change, AND we must be able to see the beauty and humanity and possibility in the world. Veterans, if anybody, can certainly appreciate this. We have seen the absolutely horrific things that people can do to one another AND we’ve experienced the astounding power of brother/sisterhood. We’ve watched unspeakable destruction AND we’ve witnessed unimaginable kindness in the midst of that destruction. So what do we do with all this? We can see it all, the good, the bad and the ugly - but what we choose to focus on is what will make all of the difference. We get to decide how we manage our limited resources. We get to choose whether we want to be totally disengaged, totally overwhelmed, or perhaps something more productive. We encourage you to find a healthy, middle path. 

Some Encouragement

Our Veterans Day message to you is this. Whether you are a Veteran or not, here are some things that will help you to effectively navigate a world that is so full of both challenge and opportunity:

1. Stay in the Fight. Do not be discouraged or dissuaded or otherwise convinced that you do not matter or can't make a difference. You do and you can. We need you engaged. You can’t help if you don’t show up. When things seem tough. Just keep going. As we always said at Ranger School, you never quit at night. Just keep going till daylight and see that doesn’t help you stay with it.

2. Look it in the Eye. Don't be afraid to acknowledge challenges and difficulties in the world...or in your own life. There’s plenty we’d prefer not to see, but we can’t just look away. Accepting that something is wrong is the first step in addressing it. Just because something is wrong, doesn’t mean that everything is. 

3. Do What You Can. Stay focused on what is within your control/influence. Don't be overwhelmed or distracted. Ounces make pounds and pennies make dollars. And small things don’t just add up, they compound! Progress can be slow, but will accelerate if we keep making deposits.

4. Do It Together. Veterans understand the power of teamwork and camaraderie. And we know that when we put the mission first (ahead of self, identity, background, etc.) we can accomplish great things. Do not go it alone! Lean on each other. Invite others to join. And if things do feel like too much, reach out, and get connected to help. 

Bottom Line, We Need You!

We know that it is easy to look at your TV or laptop or phone and see all of the ways in which the world is struggling. It’s also easy to throw our hands up and convince ourselves that the problems are too big and too far away for us to do anything about them.

We don’t want you to look away from those things, but we also don’t want you to be consumed by them. 

Whether it is across the globe, in Washington DC, down the street, or at your kitchen table - we want you to recognize the flaws and the possibilities. We want you to remember that your efforts will not be perfect…but that nothing done in earnest is ever done in vain. If we do that, we can continue to make our lives, communities, and the world a better place...together. 

HAPPY VETERANS DAY!

The Unknown Distance March

We originally posted this blog in March 2020. With the recent shooting in Maine, the war in Israel, and other events, life feels especially heavy. We felt sending this piece out again was timely, as we try to remember to stay on the path and lean on others when we need to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a reason why the Rangers, the Green Berets, and many other Special Operations Units use unknown distance ruck marches to assess candidates during selection and build grit and resolve during training. The ruck is often called “the ultimate equalizer”. It can make a 250lbs linebacker fall by the wayside while a 140lbs teenager drives on. The ruck does not discriminate and it does not relent. 

But those who really know, know that the unknown distance march isn’t about the weight of the ruck or the number of miles covered.

It’s about the uncertainty – the ability to persevere through continuous hardship for however long it takes. It’s about learning to focus on the mission, not the moment. 

Ruck marching is a painful endeavor to begin with, even when you know how far you’re traveling. But walking an unknown distance at night over punishing terrain teaches you a lot about yourself and your teammates. 

The one penetrating thought that seeps into your mind amidst the strain and the pain is whether or not you will quit. Will you break when it gets hard, the finish line is nowhere in sight, and you just want it to end? Or will you find the strength to keep pushing, to lean on your teammates, and complete the mission? Sadly, it’s the ones who take a knee on the side of the road that never get back up and never see what’s at the top of the hill.

In 2006, I had the privilege of competing in the Best Ranger Competition and the unknown distance march put a microscope on my resolve and my reliance upon my teammate. Jeremiah Pittman and I stepped out, like the rest of the teams, at “0-Dark-Thirty” and I knew it was going to be a rough night. Seven years earlier, I had learned an important lesson about myself during the grueling 61 days of Ranger School. You can starve me, you can smoke me, you can load me down with weight and you can make me walk for days on end. But sleep deprivation is my weakness. 

The Best Ranger Competition is like an Ironman on steroids. It’s 60 miles in 60 continuous hours with no sleep, interlaced with common Ranger tasks and tactics like shooting, land navigation, parachuting, obstacle courses and other events to push the limits of endurance. The mission for every competitor standing in their two-man buddy teams at the starting line is simple: cross the finish line. Most do not accomplish their mission. The march started after the first 20 hours of non-stop competition, and I was exhausted. Though always a strong ruck marcher, a few miles in I was droning (falling asleep while walking) and hallucinating. We had no clue how long the event would last. The only instructions were go! Until you’re told to stop. Relying on my teammate, I kept putting one foot in front of the other as he nursed me with packets of electrolytes, sugary drink mixes, candy bars and encouragement. It was miserable and I just wanted to stop and go to sleep. But I didn’t. I wasn’t going to let my teammate down.  

The musky Georgia night lurched on one footfall at a time. Walk the uphills, run the downhills. Hope began to stir as we passed other teams of Rangers, giving them a thumbs up and a word of encouragement as they dropped behind us two by two. Jeremiah knew just how to awaken me fully, “hey, let’s start counting the bodies we pass and just run our race, B.” 1 Team…2…3…4…the teams would emerge on the horizon and fall behind us to the road. Jack and Jill. Up the hill. 

Eventually, the sky tore open and a southern storm erupted upon the pines and the asphalt. We dropped the hammer and ran most of the miles thereafter. When we finally emerged into a clearing and were told to get on the trucks, only two teams had made it in before us. We would go on to place 3rd in the competition, but I never would have seen the finish line without my Ranger Buddy. Those lessons stay with me today, as our country finds itself in the middle of an unknown distance march, stuck in social distance, taking it all one day at a time. I hope sharing these lessons will offer some perspective that will help you to take care of each other and see this thing through.

Some lessons from the under the ruck:

• The Mission > The Moment: no hardship lasts forever, keep going and remember why you started in the first place. Lean on those around you.

• Settle In and Temper Your Expectations: unknown means just that, stop trying to guess when it ends; setting your mind to mile 16 will shatter your spirits come mile 17.

• Look for Signs of Unsettling: they may sound a lot like, “hey, the team is asking me when you think this will end…” or “asking for a friend, but when do you think we can go back to normal?” Interpretation: I’ve had it, and I want this to end. Now.

• Don’t Go It Alone: come alongside and encourage one another when it’s hard; you will get through this, together. 

• Tell the Truth: No one can read your mind, if you’re hurting, say you’re hurting so your team can solve the problem; hiding a personal weakness will become a team liability.

• Encourage, Don’t Complain: the very last thing we need is to hear one more person say, “this sucks”…we know! You can acknowledge the adversity, but don’t belabor it!  

• Never Leave a Fallen Comrade: a tactical halt to collect yourself is a lot different than quitting; leave no one behind.

• Finally - Never, Ever Quit! 

The unsettling events happening around the world and in our backyards are tough to handle. It can be difficult to see our way out of it, and we may feel helpless about what to do to stop it. At this moment, with all the uncertainty before us, perhaps the best actions to take are to start by asking yourself two questions: how are you doing, really, and who are you leaning on? 

Thumbnail photo credit: Colton Duke @csoref via Unsplash.