This was a dumb idea.
That was the first thought to cross my mind as I lay prone on the sidewalk, my outerwear and shoes covered in a coating of ice.
I had decided to go for a midday run in a cold rain, before the temperatures dropped further and the roads froze over. But I’d failed to consider that the sidewalks were already dotted with patches of black ice. And I ended up wiping out on one of those patches.
I landed on my side, with my quad making first impact with the ground. I was fortunate to not have been badly injured. But at that moment, I was too bewildered to recognize how lucky I was.
I looked up to see a pickup truck stopped nearby. The driver rolled down the window and hollered, You OK?
I’m fine, I replied. I’m just an idiot.
The driver nodded and drove away. I got back on my feet and gingerly started the trek back home.
On that 1.5-mile journey, I realized I still had some of my workout left to complete. So, after a pit stop at home, I trudged over to the gym to knock out a few miles on the treadmill.
As I ran in place for a while, free of the elements, I wondered why I hadn’t just headed to the treadmill in the first place. Why had I risked the treachery of wet roads and icy sidewalks.
Of course, I knew the answer to that. My stubbornness and machismo had gotten in the way of sensibility.
I had believed that a consistent routine of outdoor running held the key to my success. If I was to achieve my goals for races and fitness, nothing else would do.
But this mindset had almost cost me bigtime. I would need to be adaptable moving forward.
We’ve all grappled with the dueling forces of adaptability and availability in recent years.
Much of this reckoning was driven by a global pandemic. The health crisis disrupted all the familiar patterns we relied on.
Work, school, and other community locations went from being safe spaces to unavailable ones in an instant. And we were forced to adapt.
Our quick pivot to survival mode drew praise. But once the initial shock wore off, we lost patience.
We had no appetite for adaptability. We yearned for the reliability of all we had ever known before the plague came to our door.
I was well-aware of this sentiment. For I was living it myself.
At the start of 2020, I made myself a promise. I swore that I would run or walk at least a mile outside every day.
The burgeoning pandemic soon threatened to upend all that. I went from commuting to a busy office every weekday to spending 90 straight days away from anyone I knew. I barely shopped, barely drove, and never traveled more than five miles from home during that time.
Still, I held firm to my promise. Even amidst the scare tactics and misguided stories of those days — no, you didn’t need to wipe down your groceries to stay alive — I made sure to step outside and tackle a mile of movement each day. At a time when nothing seemed worth the risk, my availability certainly was.
As the months went on, this commitment only intensified. I started running more often, and for longer miles. Then I joined running groups and took up racing.
My commitment to running had quickly become an obsession. No matter how I felt, or what the weather was, I was going to let my feet hit the pavement.
Availability was a rallying cry. Adaptability was an afterthought.
I had chosen poorly. But not in the way you might expect.
Disrupt yourself before someone disrupts you.
This is a proven maxim in the world of modern business. And we see proof of it everywhere.
General Motors is going all in on electric vehicles. Sonic Drive-In is selling hard seltzer at convenience stores. And Time Magazine is offering vintage editions of its publication as Non-Fungible Tokens, or NFTs.
These businesses are trying to avoid the fate of Blockbuster Video and Kodak. Both of those companies failed to anticipate the ripples of disruption around them until it was too late.
But by undertaking such drastic pivots, these legacy companies are making a point. Adaptability does more than unlock new revenue streams or keep competitors at bay. It also keeps the prospect of availability on the table.
Yes, the world is consistently inconsistent. Weather strikes and recedes, dynasties rise and fall, fads emerge and are cast aside.
Those who treat this delicate two-step as a straight-line sprint finds themselves on a path to nowhere. It’s only by embracing adaptability that one can maintain availability.
This principle has proven itself with Words of the West, which is now seven years old. For 365 straight weeks, a fresh piece of material has been available on the website.
Adding a new article each week is quite a feat. But it’s also a testament to the power of adaptability.
Indeed, some of those articles were written from the road. Others only saw the light of day after some technical issues were resolved.
I needed to be adaptable to achieve the mission. Much like those legacy businesses, I needed to adapt to stay available.
The decision between one factor and the other is nonexistent. The only option is both.
As I write this, I’m working my way back from a running injury.
This injury wasn’t related to my fall on that icy sidewalk. But it did leave me sidelined for eight weeks.
While working my way back, I’ve resolved to be smarter. I’ve stopped tacking on extra mileage for posterity’s sake. I’ve taken rest days when my body yearned for them. And I’ve even moved some of my workouts to the treadmill.
In short, I’ve been adaptable, so that I can continue to be available.
We all can follow this path when it comes to adaptability. In fact, I believe we must follow it.
It’s our only way to keep pace with a changing world. It’s our only recourse for relevance. It’s our only true means of survival.
The days of relying on what got us here are over. We must adapt to move forward.
Let’s get to it.