Reflections from the Road: Lessons from Months on the Move

After the last two months of near-constant travel executing my company's presence at multiple industry events, and another two months of intense planning and development before that, I'm finally coming up for air. At some point, I’ll do the classic “what I learned” post, focusing on industry insights and takeaways from our efforts. But this post is a little different. It’s personal—a reflection on how this whirlwind has impacted me.

My Give-a-Shit Function is Broken.

There’s a saying: “Don’t sweat the small stuff.” I’ve had a crash course in learning that if you don’t take that to heart, you’ll implode. A significant part of running a program like the one I’ve been in the middle of for the last few months is about managing people—and their bullshit. Oh, the stories I could tell you. The too-pushy ones, the unprepared ones, the bullheaded, whiny, lost, and just too damn annoying ones. But here’s the thing: giving a shit about these people and how they engage or don’t engage only distracts me from the people who mattered—the ones who stood up, showed up, kept me upright. The people who were joyful, powerful, and all in. They deserve all my energy. The others? Well, they’ll disappear into their own crises, and I don’t need to follow them there.

Crisis Management is 95% of the Job.

The other saying that holds true? “If it can go wrong, it will.” I’ve learned to get extremely comfortable with pivoting. Swag stuck in customs? Pivot. Presentation glitches? Pivot. Everyone wants to hang in the outdoor space instead of the beautiful stage area you prepped? Pivot. I’ve leaned into these pivots and, honestly, it’s become almost second nature. What I once saw as obstacles, I now just call Tuesday.

Sometimes Things Just Work Out.

I’m a worrier by nature. I spent countless hours worrying that no one would show up to the after-hours party, or that presentations wouldn’t be locked in on time, or that interviews with execs and analysts wouldn’t be tagged properly. And you know what? In the end, everything happened—whether I worried or not. Because I did the work upfront. The months of planning, prepping, and sweating the details paid off. Even when things didn’t look exactly like I’d imagined, they still worked out well.

The Balancing Act is Real—and Fragile.

Professionally, I’ve had an amazing few months. But there’s no denying that my personal life has taken a hit. Every hour I spent hyper-focused on making the event vision come to life was an hour I didn’t spend helping my teenager navigate her world. And guess what? I’m paying the price. As I come up for air, I can see the teeter-totter at home is way down. I need to put in the extra hours now to rebalance things. That’s just how life works—put all your effort into one area, and the others will suffer.

Pushing Momentum Comes at a Price.

When you have wins, there’s this desire—and expectation—to push harder, to keep the momentum going. Logically, I understand that. But I’ve learned to give myself some grace. Running at 200% indefinitely to meet rising expectations isn’t the life I want for myself, and it’s certainly not the life I want to provide for my daughter. At some point, the price is too high, and the balancing act becomes unsustainable.

Doing Big Things is a Blast, But...

But the biggest takeaway? Doing big things is undeniably a blast and can be incredibly rewarding. Of course, doing big things also requires a lot of "peopling." The real magic lies in using your energy to boost, thank, and uplift those who show up with their personal shine. In the end, I’ve learned that yes, I can tackle the big things—but I can also handle the small things. The choice between the two? Well, it’s not just about what?I?get out of it. It’s also about what the people I care about most get from it. Deep, right? I know, I surprise myself sometimes.