What Matters Most

Part 2: Agents vs. Objects

We all possess the freedom to act and avoid being mere pawns in the game of life. Allowing ourselves to be acted upon is to relinquish our autonomy and let others chart our course or dictate our actions. An object, in this context, is akin to an inanimate entity, powerless unless acted upon. However, being an object is not necessarily a negative state; it offers a unique opportunity to acknowledge our role in the narratives of others.

Consider this commonality among us all: each morning, we wake up. Regardless of our geographical location, we awaken to a fresh canvas of choices for the day ahead. The operative word here is "choices." With the choices presented to each of us, decisions must be made. Regardless of the decision made at the start of every morning, consequences immediately follow, leading to an impact.

For instance, the person who jumps out of bed and immediately makes the bed has accomplished a simple task, but a task, nonetheless. It's a small example, yet effective because it highlights the immediate choices presented to many of us upon waking.

I, personally, relish the mornings and often rise very early to get a head start on the day, feeling like I'm leaping ahead of most people. The early hours are marked by quietude, crisp air, refreshing breezes, and a mind unburdened by the events of the previous day, ready for the new day ahead. Again, I'm faced with a fresh slate of choices, each requiring decisions that make me an agent unto myself rather than an object.

I strive to live my life as an agent every day, embracing the God-given right that empowers all people to evaluate choices and make key decisions.

In 2006, I was working for Great-West Life Insurance, and it was there, in the basement of our workplace, that I encountered a turning point. While running on a treadmill, a stranger named Ken introduced himself and invited me to join a group of runners. Despite my initial hesitation, Ken's unwavering faith in my potential convinced me to take up the challenge.

Over the next three weeks, I ran consistently with the group, as Ken had advised, and I found myself keeping up with ease. Ken's encouragement and my own determination had paid off.

Soon, Ken's influence extended to morning runs, leading me to run 10 miles daily and experience a substantial weight loss, transforming my life.

As our partnership grew, I approached Ken with the idea of forming a team to compete in a 200-mile relay race from Fort Collins to Steamboat, Colorado. We quickly assembled a team and trained rigorously, running in the mornings, during lunch breaks, and on weekends.

On the day of the race, as fate would have it, one teammate unexpectedly had to withdraw from the event. In a remarkable show of teamwork and determination, other members of the team willingly stepped up to take on the additional legs that still needed to be covered. It was at this crucial juncture that Ken made a statement that has remained etched in my memory and continues to be a driving force behind many of the successes I enjoy today. He said, "Brian will take on the longer of the additional three legs, in conjunction with one of the legs he was already scheduled to run." After a brief pause, he added, "This is what he has been prepared for."

In response, I combined one of my legs with that of my missing teammates and ran a grueling 13 miles in the middle of the night. Guided by the headlights of our team's support vehicle, we safely navigated the route, complete with cattle guards placed on the path. Other teammates heroically tackled the remaining additional legs. This collective effort culminated in the successful completion of the 200-mile relay in under 30 hours, serving as a testament to our roles as agents in our own destinies. We acted with unwavering trust in each other and had faith in our collective ability to light the way forward.