It's All Downhill From Here

I love the month of June. It marks the official start of summer - my favorite season - and despite the increasingly early onset of sweltering heat, at least in Texas, everything is in full bloom as the days get longer and longer.

The first day of June also happens to be the birthday of one of my best friends, Brandon, who turned 40 this year. Our social circles are fairly intertwined, so it made sense that I got to see an abundance of my favorite people at his party last week. If you've read the book, you know the impact Brandon has had in my life, and as we all raised a glass to celebrate 4 decades of his life on Earth, I couldn't help but think about how lucky am I to have lived long enough to know and love such amazing people.

I turn 39 in two months, and 40 in fourteen. This is noteworthy to me for a couple reasons. First, doctors believed that if I relapsed after my first bone marrow transplant that it was unlikely I'd live to see adulthood. I never thought I'd make it this far.

And second, like Brandon, I feel like the best part of my life is just beginning.

Growing up, any time one of my parents or their friends reached their 40th birthday, the theme was always "over the hill" - an ominous assumption that more than half their life was over. In the late 19th century, life expectancy in America hovered around 40 years old. As technology and health care began to increase life expectancy in 1932, author Walter B. Pitkin published a book titled Life Begins at 40, a self-help memoir suggesting that many more years could be lived beyond the fourth decade, provided an individual maintain a positive outlook on life. To me, making it over the hill - while a sobering concept - was

One of the traits shared by Brandon and our combined circle of influence is a readily apparent passion for physical fitness. Being active is what kept me alive through all my cancers, surgeries, and years of addiction, and it's what fuels my desire to keep living life to the fullest. I may not be the athlete I could have been if cancer didn't derail my ideal childhood, but I realize how lucky I am to be able-bodied and surrounded by such inspired souls in the life I am now privileged to live.

I also recognize that not so long ago in our young nation. living long into adulthood was improbable for many. This past week was the 80th anniversary of D-Day - the seaborne invasion of Normandy, France that shifted the tide in favor of allied troops and served as the beginning of the end of the scourge of Nazism in Europe. On June 6th, 1944, the average age of soldiers was 26, and the life expectancy in World War II combat for enlisted men was just two weeks.

For the fortunate ones who lived beyond WWII, I can only assume that reaching 40 was a cherished moment. My enemy was faceless, so I can't imagine the emotional trauma that our heroes endured as they fought against other human beings who had succumbed to the evil pressures of the Nazi regime. But I believe that beyond our respective battles, the preciousness of life becomes irrefutable for those who survive wars and live to tell the tale.

Which brings me back to today. Another celebrated June event is Global Running Day - a chance for us endurance folk to hug and high five and in Austin, the running community SHOWS UP. I was debating whether or not I should partake in the festivities; it was brutally hot, I had plenty of work to do, and I've been battling some injuries of late that has prevented me from running.

But I was still aglow from Brandon's birthday celebration a few days prior, and reminded myself that I have never regretted going to a workout, but almost ALWAYS regret when I don't. I decided to shed my negative thoughts and join my old friends at the East Side Beer Runners for a community run at my beloved Central Machine Works. And I'm so glad I did.

In addition to seeing countless friendly faces, I also saw not one but TWO brilliant and beautiful ladies who are in the midst of cancer battles. One friend is rebuilding strength following a so far successful fight against breast cancer, and the other is preparing for a tumor removal after undergoing radiation at my old cancer stomping grounds at the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston.

Now, the entirety of my cancer treatment was inpatient - my immune system was so depleted that even if I felt good enough to be out and about, I couldn't be around people for fear of infection. However, even if my blood counts were normal, I could not imagine showing up to run in 95 degree weather following chemo or radiation treatments. So when I saw both of these wonder women, I realized how grateful I was that I had decided to show up.

Even now, after living twenty years beyond my own assigned life expectancy, I still need to be reminded of how blessed I am to be alive. I don't know how much time I have left on this Earth, but I plan on spending it surrounded by people like Brandon and my fierce, fearless, cancer-fighting friends like Rachel and Karoline.

As my 40th year approaches, I've become keenly aware of how quickly life passes. It didn't seem that long ago that I was looking forward to regrowing my hair after chemo, and just this morning I noticed that a few strands near my forehead are turning gray. I never thought I'd live long enough to experience such a gift.

I don't yet know if life begins at 40, but I'm not going to wait to find out. I'm abundantly aware that wars - whether against personified evil or life-threatening illness - will always exist. But each time I wake up to a new sunrise and every chance I get to embrace life with people like Brandon, I know that life is worth fighting for.

I no longer believe that growing old = being over the hill. But I am convinced the moment you learn to be positively selfish, surround yourself with good people, and do your best to leave the world better than you found it, that no matter how much life you have left to live, from that point on it's all downhill from there.

​

These are two of my favorite dueling concepts in marketing and human persuasion. A nod to the lost art of door-to-door sales, these strategies are highly effective ways of convincing others to comply with specific requests.

Foot in the Door (FITD) - the act of making a small request in hopes of fulfilling a larger request later. Example: You see this often in digital marketing. A company may request that you "download our smart guide for FREE" in hopes that you'll comply with their wishes, with plans to ask for a long-term subscription later

Door in the Face (DITF) - the act of requesting a large favor that is likely to be declined, followed by a moderate ask which garners compliance. Example: You ask to borrow a large sum of money from a family member, say $500. When they decline, you ask for $50, and the request is met.

Both of these techniques have been studied at great length and both have been proven to be effective in different situations. The outcomes of each strategy are rooted in a concept known as Self-Perception Theory (SPT), which argues that people develop attitudes based on their behaviors and not the other way around.

My assessment is this:

FITD - Getting your foot in the door is the long game. You never know when gaining access to an individual's or group's trust may pay off. Providing small bits of value for those you come in contact with are investments in the future.

DITF - Putting this strategy into play is risky, but has major upside potential. Beware that with reward comes risk, and asking too lofty a request might mean never getting the chance to get your foot in the door ever again. My advice would be to use this tool when you trust the foundation of your relationships.