Author: Lisa Gurry

This week-end I had the most fun seeing Macklemore perform during his Gemini tour. I had seen him perform a few times before and knew he would put on a good show. He performed at the Xbox One launch in NYC several years ago, at the height of popularity, for about 800 people. At the time I was helping lead PR for the launch and had the pleasure of hosting him and his crew, including his manager and girlfriend (now wife), Tricia. Not only did he put on a great show, but he was really nice and grounded. I was struck by how loving he was to Tricia, how down-to-earth their entire group was, and how hard they performed for a corporate show that they could have largely phoned in. I next saw him perform on the Microsoft campus for the Windows 10 launch. Also a great show, which I enjoyed with several thousand teammates.

But this was the best Macklemore concert EVER. Because – I got to go with my big kids. It was the first concert I have been to with them and I couldn’t wait. They are of an age where many of their friends went with friends vs. parents, so I was honored they joined us happily. We had a fantastic time. And as expected, Macklemore put on an incredible show. He is from Seattle and really delivered for his hometown crowd.

There is a lot I love about Macklemore. Great tunes, clever lyrics, catchy hip hop beat, and how he intermixes different musicians amidst his rap hooks. I love that he is goofy and silly and wears ridiculous costumes. I love that his first hit song was about hitting up Thrift Shops, making fun of people who pay $50 for a T-shirt. I love that he is anti-substance and a lover of people – preaching inclusion and the beauty of same love for all.

One of my favorite things about this year is that I have embraced a “growth mindset” – embracing learning more so than I can remember in recent memory. I wasn’t planning on bringing a growth mindset to a Macklemore concert, but I was struck by a few life lessons, courtesy of Macklemore himself.

1. Embrace your community. It was fascinating how many local musicians, dancers, and artists joined him on stage. He had several warm-up acts and was joined onstage by each of them. What an incredible gift to the up-and-comers to get to perform in front of their hometown. He frequently referenced Seattle and seems to sincerely love and appreciate the community that supported him first. He also thanked the audience for leaving their homes, joining the community, and coming together to celebrate music. He was referencing the violence we have seen this year, including at other concerts, and I loved that he acknowledged everyone’s presence – and choice to enjoy the music live – vs. YouTube or otherwise. I remember shortly after the Arianna Grande concert shooting and Las Vegas festival shootings wondering if we should still take our kids to Macklemore. Was it an unnecessary risk? And I’ll admit, I carefully looked for the fastest escape route should we need it. That’s just smart planning. Thankfully we did not. And we had a great, live experience that will create a lifelong memory – in a world that can be confined to 2D screens.
2. Be present. Another awesome lesson to this crowd of phone lovers. We all took lots of photos and videos of course. The kids were Snapchatting. I posted to Instagram. We were just like most people at the show. At one point, I found it hilarious that one of the openers asked the crowd to raise their phones in the air (with lights on) – similar to in the olden days when people would raise their lighters. Everyone had a phone. But toward the end of Macklemore’s show, he paused and acknowledged the pictures and videos. Reinforced he would do the same. And how we all document memories. But then. He asked everyone to put away their phones and simply be present. Enjoy the music. Enjoy the show. Stop documenting and just enjoy. Such great advice – not just for his show, but for life.
3. Love what you do. This was less what he said, and more what he did. He put on a great, great show. Performed many songs over the course of two hours. Danced, used the stage, at one point flew through the air, changed multiple costumes, and poured his heart into singing. He must have been exhausted given his level of high energy through-out the show. He did several encore songs including an extra special song, just for the Seattle audience. And then the lights went out. The show was officially over. James Brown’s “I Feel Good” played as the crowd started to file out. We had great seats close to the stage, so needed to wait for many to file out before us. Which was great, because it was a birds-eye view of true passion. Rather than disappear off stage, Macklemore kept dancing to James Brown. Playing to the crowd around the stage. And generally enjoying the moment. He was in no hurry to leave. Just loving the stage. I’m reading this book called “Drive” by Daniel Pink (a great book, I’ll write about it) and he describes how true masters of their craft lose themselves in the flow or magic of the experience. I think Macklemore was in perfect flow. Loving every minute. Something for us all to aspire for.

So there you have it! Life lessons from Macklemore. I couldn’t be a bigger fan.

Do you ever see a dog walking with its owner sometimes and smile at the pure cuteness? Are you ever in awe of how well-trained the dog is, walking smoothly next to its owner, as they enjoy a peaceful walk?

If so, you definitely were not looking at Zoe and I. Zoe is poorly trained – and as her owner – I take responsibility for this. She doesn’t so much walk, as lurch, bounding from one exciting thing to the next. It could be an interesting smell. An interesting leaf. Or God help me, a squirrel or other dog. If she sees one of these creatures, and if I’m not prepared with a tight grip on her leash, she’ll nearly yank my arm off as she lunges at them. She wouldn’t do anything if she actually caught them – she is super timid – but she gets awfully excited.

So taking Zoe for a walk is typically a work-out for us both. In our last two neighborhoods, they were largely contained with minimal traffic. We were very spoiled in our last house, which had a flat, one mile loop surrounding quiet streets. Perfect for walking a lurching dog. Then we moved into our rental house and while close to our remodel house, walks typically occur on a few streets book-ended by busy city streets. I’ve been terrified that Zoe would get out of our house and bound into one of these streets. Because she has very few street smarts. And by very few, I mean absolutely zero.

Recently, we had the walk I have always feared. It didn’t happen exactly as I expected. Often I have my youngest child with me too and my hands a bit full. On this particular walk, I was solo, so relaxed and leisurely that I held a Starbucks latte in one hand – Zoe’s leash in the other. The sun was out, but the sidewalks were a bit damp. I had chosen a pair of Nikes, which while a bit hipster, have slippery soles. I should have known they were a poor choice.

We were walking down a slight hill, on the sidewalk beside one of the busy streets. I’m really not sure what happened. I slipped – Zoe pulled slightly (nowhere near the traditional full body yank) – and somehow I landed hard on my knees. I was surprised (you really don’t fall that often as an adult and it’s always so surprising how much it hurts!). I could feel blood from my knees soaking my pants. And I had dropped her leash. Ahhh!!!

Of course, she does exactly what I have always thought she would do. She ran straight into the busy street. Thankfully there wasn’t a car coming at the exact time. So I’m standing on the side of the street saying “Zoe, Zoe!” in my most cheerful, commanding voice as if she’ll come on demand. Of course she doesn’t. So I start to get nervous as a car pulls up and graciously stops. And then the driver also holds out her arm to stop traffic coming from the other direction. I continue to say “Zoe, come!” and walk toward her. And Zoe promptly starts running in circles, in the middle of the street. She looks terrified, but still doesn’t come to me. I think she can sense my growing franticness and responds by running in circles around the stopped car. I follow and it becomes a ridiculous game of chase.

At this point, there are 7-8 cars lined up on either side of the street. We’ve brought traffic to a complete standstill. I am scared of losing Zoe. My knees hurt. And I’m mortified that I have so little control over my dog.

As I get more desperate, I see woman after woman after woman leave their cars to help me. Eventually, there are 5 or 6 women all trying to coerce a terrified Zoe back to me or trying to grab her leash.

Finally, a little boy climbs out of the back of an SUV wearing his little soccer uniform. He is holding a bag of popcorn. He leans down, puts his hand out gently, and lures Zoe in with his popcorn. I grab Zoe’s leash and crisis averted!

This little boy was such a hero. I so wish I had the presence of mind to offer him a reward. I was so scared for Zoe and shocked by my fall that I said a heartfelt thank you and then cleared the street so the large back-up could go by.

If I could find this boy, I would so love to. He helped me save my dog – dumb as she is, I love her dearly. He helped the poor women get back in their cars to whatever holiday destination they were likely heading to. And he helped clear a large back-up of traffic on 70th Ave NE.

This little episode – ridiculous as it is – was so heartwarming. It reminded me of the good in the world. How so many people would drop everything – stand in front of traffic – and make themselves late – to help a labradoodle and her freaked out owner. How a little boy would sacrifice his yummy popcorn and cleverly catch her. And how ultimately, even amongst the busyness of the holiday season, an entire street could come to a standstill to help a complete stranger. 

The world can be a beautiful place.

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Ahhhh. Finally. I write. It’s been 13 days since my last blog. I’ve written a ton in my head since then. I just haven’t gotten it down on paper. It’s actually a bit of a problem and a distraction – words and sentences spinning around in my brain – looking for an outlet.

So here I am. And here’s the great irony – the focus of my next blog was going to be about the importance of Me Time. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, a shout out to all and an encouragement to take a moment – or an hour – or a day – or much more – just for you.

So here’s the ironic part. It took me 13 days – 13 DAYS! – to find a moment of Me Time to write this blog. Ironic and a bit pathetic, but such is life. It’s not like I didn’t have any down time or fun time in the last 10 days. As often happens in the holidays, I had a LOT of all kinds of time – family time, holiday time, friend time, celebration time, end of year work time – just no Me Time.

I realized the easiest way to define Me Time is to define what Me Time is not. Me Time is not things you do to make your family or friends happy. That can be amazing time, but it is not Me Time. It is not holiday celebration time, which while fun and festive, is also not Me Time. I did not find decorating our house, shopping for a pile of presents for our sweet and amazing children (but who need absolutely nothing), creating & folding (why did I buy tri-fold holiday cards??) & assembling 200 holiday cards Me Time. Nor is choosing holiday outfits, buying gifts for teachers and the other amazing people in our lives, or moving the elf. Nope. Not Me Time either. So worthwhile and as the house memory creator, so important to me, but not Me Time.

As much fun as this month can be – big holiday parties, fun reunions with friends, white elephant gift exchanges with book club, or other such things – are also not Me Time – even when one gets to wear sequins. And work stuff – even holiday parties where you get to dress up like the 80s and dance to Footloose (and get second place – for the second year running – ugh. Next year I’m choosing the obvious winning genre – rap) – is not Me Time.

All of these things happened in the last few weeks. Along with a funeral for my husband’s dear grandma. And a few sick kids, including when my youngest barfed – on top of my dog – for the most epic clean up job ever. And a huge work project that required every ounce of storytelling and creativity I could offer. And a remodel that has suddenly kicked into fast gear requiring cabinetry, lighting and plumbing research and decisions. And the occasional run I squeezed in – if lucky, alongside my dear friend.

So yeah. About that Me Time………

But tonight. Here I am. I, for real, could not be more thrilled to be sitting here in my favorite pajamas at 9pm. My littlest fast asleep and the house otherwise to myself. A nice glass of wine. A few candles lit. U2 playing. This – is my definition of Me Time.

Here’s why Me Time matters. It is you – taking just a moment – to acknowledge that you too – are deserving of spending your time however you want. Each of us deserves this gift. The gift of Me Time. I hope you find it often. If not, if you – like me – struggle to fit it in on a good day, I hope you seek it. And make it happen. It calms the soul. Brings peace and contentment. And you are so worth it. 

So I’m going to enjoy my quiet house, glass of wine, beautiful candles, and good tunes. I may even keep writing and release those words from my mind. Because it’s Me Time – and it’s all mine.

I love learning from a great coach. I had several amazing coaches while growing up and to this day, at least a few of them had a lifelong, positive impact in shaping who I am. Through sports, I learned the value of setting and pursuing goals, the thrill of accomplishment, the importance of teamwork, and I developed a strong work ethic. I’m a huge fan of any activity that teaches these important skills, sports or otherwise.

So I’m lucky that my son is on an amazing basketball team. A few years ago, when he wasn’t having a positive experience on his select basketball team, he actively researched and sought out a new team. He chose the team based on the coach, Marques Chinn. We didn’t know Marques at the time, but let our son pursue his goal to play on Marques’ team without knowing anyone.

And what a fantastic choice it was. Our son chose incredibly well. Marques is one of those coaches – rare, from what I’ve seen in select basketball – who pushes each kid toward excellence and marked improvement, encourages character and integrity on and off the court, and creates an environment that fosters positive teamwork. Now my son’s teammates are some of his best friends, a few of his school friends have joined the team, and it’s one of the most formative experiences in his life.

Today he had two basketball games. This is relatively common for a week-end and we love to watch him play, chatting with the other families, and cheering on the boys. And, I also love to watch Marques coach. He is an incredible basketball coach, but he has a few traits that make him exceptional in my book. He has tremendous charisma – the boys are glued to him. He has the perfect coach’s voice – the boys listen and respond. And he teaches life skills alongside basketball skills – reinforcing respect of authority, the importance of following directions, and requiring total effort and teamwork. I love to listen to the after-game coaching, where he builds them up, or encourages areas to work on, and always ends with a hug for a kid who is down, or a fist bump for someone that did well. He sees each kid on the team and knows who needs that little extra each game. Phenomenal.

Today I picked up three life lessons, applicable anywhere:

1. If a teammate falls down, you pick them up. Always. Such a great lesson. One of the boys got knocked down and his teammate didn’t reach down with a hand quickly enough. Before he commented on the play, Marques says, “Pick him up. Always. You always pick your teammate up.” I love that – you play hard, but you take care of your teammate. Always. In life, do we do this enough? If someone we love, or just someone we see frequently, has a bad day, do we reach out enough to pick them up? Such a great lesson – whether at school, work, activities, or just day-to-day living, wouldn’t the world be a better place if we always picked people up?
2. Never be casual. I love this one too. In the basketball game, it meant play hard. Throw sharp passes. Make smart plays. Go hard. Play your heart out and leave everything on the court. Again, what if we brought this same passion and intensity to life? Life is too short to be casual about things we care about. Whatever we choose to focus on – whether it be work, family, friends, hobby, or whatever – shouldn’t we bring our A game? If we’re too casual, we aren’t doing our best at what we care about most. Instead, we should play hard – at life.
3. The competitor is us. Another really profound statement. This wisdom was shared at the end of a game that was lost. The opposing team was much larger and the boys played a bit intimidated at times. Marques wise summary? “The competitor is us.” We play hard for ourselves. We improve so we get better. We play as a team to be great together. The competitor is us. To see how good the team can be – and how great each player can become. So smart. And again, so relevant to life. How much happier would we be if we focused on the competitor in ourselves? Focusing on what makes us happy? Not worrying about what others have, or which family seems perfect, or who is moving forward in life at a perceived faster pace. If the competitor is ourselves, we show up for our own happiness, we achieve to reach our own goals, and we define joy on our own terms. 

Such wisdom from Coach Marques today. Luckily we have another game tomorrow!

*For any aspiring basketball players, Marques recently formed his own company, Northwest Coastal, if you are interested in your child joining an awesome program.

This morning I had a morning. You know the kind where nothing goes right?

First, we all slept later than we should have. Particularly on carpool morning. Once a week we drive the neighborhood carpool to high school – it’s a great thing. We only have to drive once a week. But oh the pressure! Four kids cannot be late!! And it makes logistical sense to head straight to work from the high school, so I need to be ready to roll by 7:20 – with my favorite freshman and three neighborhood freshmen, while making sure my other two kids are also on the path toward school. My son has been sick, so I woke him up and took his temperature right before I left, confirmed he too should go to school today, and off we went.

Just as I was dropping off the high school crew, I got a text from my nanny that her car wouldn’t start. So, rather than heading to work, I headed back home and arrived to madness. The printer wouldn’t work – of course it wouldn’t – so my son couldn’t print off his homework. He had gambled on another day off from school – and gambled incorrectly – so he was unprepared. After yelling at him and the printer to no avail, we had to give up on proper homework submittal. My husband was going to take my son to his school, so I grabbed my youngest to drop her off at her school. That’s right. Three schools for three kids. It’s a juggle.

It was now 8:20. If things went relatively perfectly, I would make my 9am meeting on time. By now my hair was damp with rain, my suede boots were spotted with rain spots, and I was annoyed at the world. I was annoyed at traffic. Annoyed at the radio DJs for their annoying banter. I had a slight headache and hoped I’m not next in line for the fever that ran through all three kids this week-end.

But I made it to work – by 9:05. Sorta close. And the meeting I had stressed about making didn’t go as planned – as in, it didn’t happen at all. It was in another building on our campus, so I had to make my way through a maze of a building back to my car to head to my office. I took a few wrong turns in the winding building – because I always do – and amidst my annoyance at my chronically bad sense of direction – I see this written on a whiteboard in a random hallway.

It literally stopped me in my tracks. I took a photo. Mentally wrote this blog in my head. And realized – yes. Absolutely. Today I am winning. And so are you. Because we are on this earth. And we have a full day ahead of us.

Today’s a big day! The roof comes off of our house. While I wasn’t super thrilled about taking on a remodel project – essentially a house re-build really – now I’m getting excited about it.

There is something awesomely creative about designing a house and making it something you love, and a place of joy for your family.

I’m not tackling it alone, of course. We have a great architect. A great contractor. Both of them re-built our last house 12 years ago. So there is a sense of familiarity, trust and almost family with both of them. I’m talking to a lighting designer, cabinet maker, and interior designer. Ultimately there will be a large cast that will make this dream home a reality.

This remodel is so different than my prior remodel projects. To start, the online world is SO different. Back then, there wasn’t a Pinterest. Or Houzz. Or Instagram. Or a million websites and social networks to pull ideas from. So much awesomeness you can almost become paralyzed with great ideas. How to narrow down? What if I miss the PERFECT light fixture, cabinet design, architectural detail?

Luckily, 12 years also brings a greater knowledge of self. I know what I like. I have a vision in my head of what I want this house to be. I’m trying to embrace the creative options available, while staying true to my vision.

And this time, I have fun helpers! Last night my oldest daughter and I spent two hours making Pinterest boards of kitchens, powder bathrooms, and den ideas. So much fun. She loves decorating and I love that we’ll have this project to tackle together for the next – 10 months – gulp.

Right now our house has been stripped to the rafters. It’s kind of creepy to walk through it. Not a wall or ceiling left standing.

We are adding a floor on top, raising the ceiling height, and reconfiguring the floor plan. Why didn’t we just bulldoze and start over you ask? It’s a good question. Like many remodels, we hadn’t planned on this one being so extensive. But by the time you build in structural earthquake-proofing to support the new floor, discover old electrical that should be ripped out, and a few other oddities….it quickly became clear we should just gut and largely start over.

Stripping a house to the rafters is an opportunity to start with a blank slate. What can this space be? What would my dream house look like? How do I make each room special? How much can I love this home? How do I make it a home that our kids will love?

In some ways, it’s an interesting question to apply to life too. What would I build if I were re-building a dream life? What would each day look like? How would I spend my precious minutes and hours? If I stripped myself down to the rafters, where would I invest time and energy?

Similar to a remodel, in life, we all have unlimited options in front of us to answer these questions. I am fortunate in so many ways to have ultimate flexibility to consider my answers. I’m going to use this remodel as a symbolic reminder that we can all create our dream life – it’s just up to us to know what we’re looking for – and then proactively create it.

It’s very hard to write a Thanksgiving day blog without sounding trite or cliché.

The whole concept of Thanksgiving is such a good thing. A day to focus on thanksgiving. Gratitude. And the everyday things, and the really big things, that bring us joy.

I woke up this morning to a hot cup of coffee my husband brought me. A little thing – but a really thoughtful thing. It’s my favorite way to wake up.

We had to get the full house moving to make the neighborhood Turkey Trot – a 5K race starting at 8:45am. I love this tradition. It gets you moving to start the day. It’s active. And it’s something our whole family can do. However, it’s not always hugely popular – particularly with teenagers. My son had a cousin sleep over and it’s likely they didn’t get enough rest, but they got up anyway. The girls were ready to roll and off we went.

I really do love running a good 5K to start Thanksgiving. As cheesy as it sounds, I try to mindfully count my blessings as I run. Even today – when it was really rainy and a bit chilly.

It made getting home to our cozy house all the sweeter. I made chocolate chip pancakes for the kids as everyone got dried off and then we settled in for a lazy day. We watched Home Alone. Again. Amazing every time. My niece and nephew came over and the girls helped me make pumpkin pies and the boys helped me make berry pie. And we made brownies for those that don’t like pie. A mountain of desserts with my happy helpers.

Then we went to my sister-in-law’s house for dinner. It’s such a special thing to be surrounded by family on Thanksgiving. I’m grateful for our big Seattle family and the traditions we have here. I love that my kids are growing up with cousins who they love very much and that they have so much fun together. The night ended with the annual showing of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Hilarious. Every time.

But I read something on Facebook today about the glamorization of holidays. That we all face pressure to paint the perfect picture. So here are a few things that weren’t perfect today:

1. I miss my family. Very much. My family largely lives in Missouri and I love them dearly. I hate being away from them on holidays like Thanksgiving. Growing up, we were so close with my grandparents – having Thanksgiving lunch at my dad’s parents house and dinner at my mom’s parents house in northern Arkansas. It was a ton of food (and dirty dishes) and fitting of the south. So very good. So much love. And so many great memories. I would give a lot for one more of those Thanksgivings. This year, we lost my last grandparent – my mom’s mom – and I thought of Grandma Fern so many times today. I would love one of her big bear hugs. A taste of her ridiculously buttery mashed potatoes. And to end the night with a big game of Monopoly.
2. My son got sick. Not super sick, but a good fever. Just as we were leaving for his aunt’s house, he said he didn’t feel well. I took his temperature and yep, a legit fever. I gave him Motrin and told him we should stay home. My husband took the girls and we settled in to watch Netflix. The Motrin kicked in, he felt better, and the family graciously said we should come – regardless. So we did. Granted he had just spent all day with his cousins anyway, but so great to join the family and celebrate Thanksgiving as planned.
3. An early end. Like every night, my youngest daughter has an early curfew. She needs a lot of sleep to protect against seizures, so she and I came home early so I could put her to bed. We had lots of cuddles. I talked to my parents for awhile, who I hadn’t reached earlier today. And now I sit here with a beautiful candle, my favorite writing project, and my cozy dog (OK…that was sugar-coating – that sweet dog just emptied out our bathroom trash can). It’s a nice way to end a day actually – but we’d both rather be with the larger family laughing at Cousin Eddie.

I’m sure I’m not alone. Most holidays are a balance of great times, people we love, special memories, and maybe just a few things we wish were different.

But, this year, I am so committed to making every day Thanksgiving. Who says we should practice it one day a year? Every day is a day worth being grateful for. And for making the most of what we have. If we live with intention, with gratitude, with yes, thankfulness, for what we have – not for what might be – every day will be more fulfilling, the laughs will come easier, and our hearts will be lighter.

This year I am reminded of the gifts of health, of family, of dear friends, and the happiness that can come from pursuing joy and our passions. And this, is certainly worth being thankful for.

Today I had a four hour lunch. It was awesome. When do you ever get the chance to have a four hour lunch? It certainly requires special companions to not only want to spend every minute of the four hours together, but to hate to leave.

My three girlfriends and I made plans relatively spur of the moment. One girlfriend was visiting from San Francisco. One left her office building from a few blocks over. One is our ultimate organizer – bringing us together and looking fabulous while she does it.

We met…..16….for real…16!! years ago. I know because it was 2001, when I joined the MSN group at Microsoft. We were all young, driven, and became fast friends. None of us had kids and our days could be long, so long lunches, talk breaks, and being attached at the hip every day resulted in deep friendships.

Over the years we’ve seen a lot and we’ve grown and changed. We may go some time without seeing each other, but we pick up right where we left off. These women are so special to me and I’m looking forward to planning an ultimate girl’s trip with them  – soon….right P??

But this wasn’t my only girlfriend moment this week. On Monday, I wrapped up a very important meeting and joined another group of girlfriends. These five girls were also a key chapter of my Microsoft life – my years in Xbox PR. We left work early for a matinee showing of Bad Moms: Christmas. My absolute favorite kind of movie. Ridiculous, over-the-top humor. I laughed so hard. And it’s hard to beat laughing with girlfriends.

And the movies…..the movies are so luxurious now! We went to a new theater with recliner chairs, which were so comfortable and actually seemed clean. I was served a Diet Coke, popcorn and then a glass of wine. I could have stayed there all day. But the movie ended and then I had a nice chat with one of the girls who recently joined another company. Taking a break from the real world to watch a movie in the afternoon and chat with a girlfriend is a beautiful thing. I should do it more often.

It’s exciting to reconnect, learn about new adventures, and take time to laugh. Listen. And share with people you care about. And what an incredibly awesome week that I got to have two wonderful afternoons in three days. As appropriate for the week, I am thankful.

This year I have been so reminded of the beauty of friendship. And how true girlfriends have the power to lift your soul, make you laugh from the depths of your stomach, empathize and support you, and reinforce that all of us are fabulous. Even amongst the hustle and bustle. The questions about parenthood. The professional highs and lows. I’m grateful for these true friends.

Last week-end I watched the New York City marathon on TV and was mesmerized. I’ve thought a lot about the race this week and this morning, on my own run, was able to crystalize why it made such an impact on me.

I’ve watched a lot of races over the years and this was one of my favorites. Leading into the race, I’d read interviews with Shalane Flanagan, the top American in the race, with interest. She was bold and confident – articulating her desire to win, to go for broke and not leave anything on the line, and her plan to run with any leader until she couldn’t run any longer. Unusual – most athletes don’t share their game plan in advance. But at 36, she knows she is in the last years of her career, and considered this perhaps her last marathon.

Then I forgot about it. I woke up that morning with no plan to watch the marathon. But my youngest daughter loves watching sports, including running, and my husband had turned on the race for her. As I drank my coffee lazily on the couch, I got sucked into the race.

Shalane ran strong the entire race. Sometime after 20 miles the pack broke up and it was down to her and two other runners, including Mary Keitany, the current World Champion and world record holder. No slouch. They ran hard and started dropping faster miles trying to break each other. Finally, with a few miles to go, Shalane broke away. She created a long lead – ultimately winning the race by over a minute. It was incredible.

Watching her run those last miles, I was overwhelmed with the cautious joy she must be feeling – having dreamed of this moment for decades. It was her first major marathon win and the biggest win of her career. I wondered when she would start celebrating as it became clear it would take a major disaster to dethrone her. She ran controlled, focused, and patient.

Finally, on her last few strides as she sprinted toward the finish line, you could see her face crumble with anticipatory tears. She shook her arms above her head and yelled a jubilant “F#$% Yeah!” for the world to see. The TV cameras were zoomed in and if ever there were an award for a crystal-clear lip read, it was this moment. She crossed the finish line, blowing kisses to the crowd, and collapsed into tears.

It was an epic sports moment. Even if you aren’t a running fun, you should watch this finish. 

For me, my eyes filled with tears from the emotion of her finish. What an accomplishment – to know that you have worked so hard for decades, sacrificed so much, and your dream is coming true.

This morning while running, I pondered why this moment touched me so much. And here is what I discovered. It is the beauty of the “F#$% Yeah!”

I’ve had a few of these moments in my life. I made a short mental list while I ran.

• My first State Championship. My junior year in high school. I had popped a dream 3200 run at the state track meet my sophomore year. Improved my personal best time by 50 seconds to a surprise second place. It gave me confidence to train my tail off over the summer with a goal of winning state cross country that fall. I was on track – demolishing my best times and winning races until I got mononucleosis. Ugh. I had to take 3 weeks off from running for full rest, slept 12 hours a night, and drank my weight in fluids each day trying to flush the virus out of my system. I was able to race again, white as a ghost, for our district meet and won – barely. At the state championships, I faded in the last 400 meters to fourth place, wondering what might have been. So, when I finally won my first state championship the next track season, it was a dream come true and a “F#$% Yeah!” moment.
• My first glimpse at national greatness. My senior year in cross country. I won the Kinney (now Foot Locker) Regional Championship, earning my spot at my first national championship. It was a super muddy race and I had to out-kick a really fast 800 meter specialist for the win. I actually couldn’t believe I did it. Another “F#$% Yeah!” moment, where I realized I was a national class runner and had likely earned a college scholarship to a school of my choice.
• My Live Earth project. In 2007, my incredible manager took a bet on me and gave me a huge project that was behind schedule with great visibility. I led a virtual team of 100 people to build a web site experience with 150 musical acts in eleven locations around the world. I had never led a development effort. I had never pitched ad space to clients. I had never worked with Al Gore (the recipient cause was climate change) or Kevin Wall (the fancy Hollywood producer) before. But I led the charge and my site on MSN.com livestreamed the concerts for 36 hours – at the time, a world record. My manager said it was the “greatest day in MSN history.” One of my biggest “F#$% Yeah!” professional moments. Oh, and I was 8 months pregnant.
• Xbox One and Windows 10 launches. I love a good product launch and I’ve worked on many during my 20 years at Microsoft. These are special memories and my most favorite projects. Both of these were not obvious wins – with Xbox, we were digging out of a serious ditch from some unpopular policy decisions and poorly chosen words by an executive. For Windows, the brand was considered tired and much maligned following Windows 8. With both, I was asked to lead later in the game than was ideal. I had to build teams in real time while also building strategic plans and driving our news agenda. With both launches, I poured my heart into them. Worked my tail off. Pitched big creative ideas that cost millions and millions of dollars to execute. And they worked. Beautifully. I woke up the morning after both, read the press coverage and appreciation from executives, and said “F#$% Yeah!”

You may ask where is my marriage date, births of my three amazing children, or other personal milestones on this list. They are not “F#$% Yeah!” moments. They are melt your heart and bring you joy moments. But “F#$% Yeah!” moments are different.

They are the culmination of tremendous hard work. Hours and hours of the best of yourself – poured toward a goal. They require tremendous, unbelievable accomplishment. Where you surprise yourself with what you were able to achieve. And they have to really matter to you. They bring you great satisfaction. Pride. And a sense of gratification that makes you burst with “F#$% Yeah!”

Which makes me think long and hard about my next “F#$% Yeah!” moment. What should it be? You have to choose it…to then work toward it….to achieve it. They definitely never just happen.

Life is richer, more special, and more memorable when we earn the right to shout “F#$% Yeah!” I want my next one in clear view. With clear focus. And a clear plan to hit it. Then I intend to shout, “F#$% Yeah!” with as much passion as Shalane.

I read an article today that really stuck with me, “How to be a CEO, From a Decade’s Worth of Them” by the amazing Adam Bryant from the New York Times. This is one of my favorite series and it is sadly ending today. Bryant has interviewed 525 chief executives through his years writing the Corner Office column. Typically the advice is unexpected and thought-provoking. There were a few elements that really struck with me, but this article is full of interesting wisdom.

One part of the article focused on how to become a CEO. I really don’t think I aspire to be a CEO, but I love the traits he highlighted for living life:

• They have an “applied curiosity” mindset. “They question everything. They want to know how things work, and have a sense of wonder regarding how they can be made to work better. They’re curious about people and their back stories. And rather than wondering if they are on the right career path, they make the most of whatever path they’re on, wringing lessons from all their experiences.”
• They love a challenge. Discomfort is their comfort zone. As Arkadi Kuhlmann, a veteran banking chief said, “Usually, I really like whatever the problem is. I like to get close to the fire. Some people have a desire for that, I’ve noticed, and some people don’t. I just naturally gravitate to the fire. So I think that’s a characteristic that you have, that’s in your DNA.”
• They managed their own careers on their way to the top. They focus on doing their current job well, and that earns them promotions. If you focus on building a track record of success, people will keep betting on you. “You shouldn’t be looking just to climb the ladder, but be open to opportunities that let you climb that ladder.”

I love the push to be curious, learn from all experiences, embrace challenges, and focus on doing great work as the path toward success. Luckily, I have the opportunity to do this everyday. I want to continue to seek out chances to get close to the fire. Life is more exciting that way.

Bryant helpfully chose his favorite career advice to share. It was from Joseph Plumeri, the vice chairman of First Data, who shared his biggest career inflection points came from chance meetings, leading to his top advice: Play in traffic.

“It means that if you go push yourself out there and you see people and do things and participate and get involved, something happens. Both of my great occasions in life happened by accident simply because I showed up. Show up, get in the game, go play in traffic,” Mr. Plumeri said. “Something good will come of it, but you’ve got to show up.”

This is one of my most favorite thoughts in awhile. Playing in traffic goes against everything we are taught as children. Stay in your lanes. Use the crosswalk. Be safe.

Instead, playing in traffic is taking risks, aggressively tackling a challenge, and being fully present. This is advice I can live by.

I was explaining this blog entry to my son and told him it reminded me of my favorite video game as a child (which we’ve played for hours together at Gameworks) – Frogger. Such an epic game. Playing in traffic is like Frogger. You are smart. Strategic. Focused. And motivated toward a goal. A great way to live.

He said I should have an example that is the anti-Frogger to illustrate the point. Smart kid. So I said the anti-Frogger is the turtle in the game. Floating along in the water, being used as a launching pad, and going nowhere but downstream. It led to tonight’s life lesson – in life, be the Frogger not the turtle. Play in traffic and live life fully.

Bryant’s favorite life advice, came from Ruth Simmons, president of Prairie View A&M University. Her advice to students?

“They should never assume that they can predict what experiences will teach them the most about what they value, or about what their life should be,” she said. “You have to be open and alert at every turn to the possibility that you’re about to learn the most important lesson of your life.”

So here’s to curiosity. Living close to the fire. Playing in traffic. Being the Frogger. And being open and alert to the possibilities of life always.