I was hesitant to contribute to the Event Memoir genre. You know the type of story where someone experiences a challenge and writes about how it changed their life?

I had such an experience this past weekend, although I wouldn’t go as far to say it was life changing. More like life reflecting. It made me think and ask several life examining questions.

The experience?  My oldest son and I spent two days in intensive wilderness survival training.

You’re probably wondering, what is involved in wilderness survival training?

The training was a mixture of "classroom" learning, hands-on application, and simulated testing.

We learned everything from fire starting, shelter building, first-aid, navigation, hydration, and thermal control to name a few.

The course started on Friday at 5pm and ended on Sunday at noon.

It was intense based on the amount of information we had to learn and apply in less than 48 hours.

As such, the schedule was tight. We didn’t get to bed until 2AM the first night and not until midnight on the second where we slept on the ground under a make-shift shelter.

The disrupted sleep combined with the almost constant activity and random eating times caused accumulating fatigue. Not to mention, we’re in the middle of the wettest August on record in Ohio. There were numerous times when we were working in steady rain or downpours with the added threat of severe weather.

I think that counts as a challenging episode sufficient to spawn an event memoir.

So what are the questions I’m now pondering? There were several but I decided to focus on three that I felt most applicable to me.

Late on our first night the instructors gave us fifteen minutes to gather wood from the forest. Next they instructed us to start a fire with the wood and our disposable lighters. They gave us ten minutes to complete the task.

Ten minutes later, all of us were fire-less and frustrated with blistered thumbs (from repeatedly igniting the lighter).

I’ve easily started hundreds of fires while camping. I’ve also watched bushcraft videos on how to start fires in the wild. Another participant, with more survival experience, couldn’t get his fire started either.

Why the failures? Although we had the necessary ingredients, namely a fire starter and wood, we were in less than ideal conditions. Everything was wet. Even though I knew to collect dead wood that was off the ground, it was still wet. Our fire ring was soaked as well.

My fire starting skills are good but they’re not "starting a fire in 10 minutes under wet conditions" good. The time and condition limits weren’t arbitrary.

The risk of hypothermia, especially when wet and exposed to the elements, is very real. Hypothermia can happen even in temperatures above 60 degrees if one is exposed for long enough. The difference between starting a fire in 10 minutes versus an hour or not at all could mean life or death.

On Sunday we had a similar test, although the stakes were even higher. We had to start a fire using a ferro rod (no lighter), bring a bottle of water to boiling, and build a shelter all in under ten minutes.

We were paired in teams and my son and I had everything done in under eight minutes. We had the fire roaring and water boiling in just over five minutes.

The course drastically leveled up my fire making ability even though I believed it was a skill I already possessed.

It made me ask, “Where else in my life do I think I’m competent, but not at the level that delivers consistent success when it matters most?”

Have you ever been surprised by the silence you experience when the power goes out? The humming appliances, whirring fans or blowing air conditioning seem almost louder when suddenly turned off.

The background noise is always there, but you don’t notice it until it’s gone.

I had a similar experience as I was lying on the ground under my tarp shelter the second night. The rain was falling and I was expecting to eat at least a few spiders or insects while sleeping as there were bugs everywhere.

However, I felt unusually calm. I am as measured as they come but I can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed.

As I was drifting off to sleep, the insight hit me. The intense focus of the weekend eliminated all other distractions. The accumulated background noise of daily life wasn’t there. One obvious example is that I only checked my phone a few times the entire weekend. When I did it was for weather updates.

To be sure, I’m wasn’t under delusions of heading back to the real world and eliminating all the noises of daily life. But certainly I can eliminate some.

Clutter is a good example. My desk area and especially my computer desktop need help. I am the unofficial president of the 1,000 Open Tabs Club. I’ve written about the perils of overstimulation before. It’s these little and often seemingly productive actions that can be our worst enemy. I need to clean them up.

I’m taking a hard look at all of my environments and asking, “Where do I observe unnecessary background noise that is drowning out my focus and peace?

I definitely feel stuck at times. My body isn’t changing or changing for the worse despite working out and watching my diet. My business isn’t where I want it to be despite my efforts. My relationships could be better. The list goes on.

The word stuck never resonated with me, though. Stuck implies standing still or being motionless. I’m definitely not that person (even when I should be). When in doubt, I move! I take action.

You can still be stuck while moving, though, as I realized this weekend.

During the navigation portion of the course, the instructors had us close our eyes and attempt to walk in a straight line over approximately 20 yards.

All of us failed and in the same way. We all veered off course to the right by about 5 yards. The lesson was simple. If you’re not constantly recalibrating, you veer off course. And most of us tend to walk in a circle and end up close to where we started.

The phrase, “walking in circles” comes from centuries of observations. Hunters and explorers observed when people lost their way in heavy fog or thick forests they ended up circling back upon their previous path. The behavior is often noticed in animals as well.

For our navigation test, the instructors provided us with six compass coordinates. We had to follow each coordinate until we found a small plastic clip attached to a tree limb or other object. Then we would proceed in the direction of the next coordinate.

Even the smallest error here can throw you off course where you will easily miss a small clip hanging in a dense forest.

We made it through the course in the allotted time despite initially missing our second target and having to back track to our previous anchor point.

The path to the second target included coming in and out of dense woods and navigating over a steep ravine.

We were taught to navigate by leap frogging. You pick a point ahead aligned with the coordinates and walk to it. Upon reaching the point, you re-check your direction and pick a new point and repeat.

Our error on the second target was not reducing the distances between our chosen check points. When it’s difficult to see over the ravine or through thick woods it can make sighting difficult and introduce errors. Increasing the number of times you recalibrate reduces your chances of drifting off course.

Such is life. Most of our goals are hard to see clearly. If we’re not reducing our line of sight and frequently recalibrating we can veer of course and end up back where we started.

That’s how days can seem different but each year ends the same. You’ve been walking for 365 days but doing so in a big circle.

I’m examining the major parts of my life and asking, where do things feel like they haven’t progressed as much as I want them to? How can I shorten the check points to obtain better, more timely feedback.

For example, I weigh myself daily but don’t check my waistline measurement nearly as often. I’ve found that to be a much better predictor of how I’m progressing with my fitness goals than the scale. I need to get back in the habit of checking it weekly.

I’m reviewing checkpoints for my business and other areas of my life as well. For the parts where I don’t have metrics, I’ll create even simple ones.

As they say, “What gets measured gets managed.”

Don’t misunderstand. I’m not trying to over-optimize my life. That’s the opposite lesson I took from the weekend.

The podcaster Chris Williamson popularized the notion that your life is not the sum of your peak experiences but of your average Tuesday.

Peak experiences like vacations or wilderness survival training are great, but they’re not your life. Your average day is.

How do I plan to improve my average Tuesday?

By continuing to level up, reducing the noise, increasing focus and measuring progress early and often.

Otherwise, my Tuesday this time next year will look similar to the one this past week.

To be sure, many would easily trade their next Tuesday for mine. It’s not a lack of gratitude for the great life I have.

It’s making sure the constant noise of the daily grind doesn’t find me wandering off course into a life unintentionally lived.

You can check out a short video of our weekend below. If you’re interested in this kind of thing, check out Pioneer Survival Company. Brothers Shawn and Eric are the founders and were excellent instructors.

My goal with The Leap is to provide you each Saturday with the knowledge, tools and lessons learned to help you get started and keep going toward building your future. 

Whether you are making the leap to startups, solo-entrepreneurship, freelancing, side hustles or other creative ventures, the tools and strategies to succeed in each are similar.