Simplifying Almanzo

I've been reading with interest the journey Chris Skogen has been on this year.

The Almanzo 100 is a gravel event in May that Chris has organized for the past 7 years.  I was a rookie in 2013, so I missed the evolution over 7 years of the event. The 2013 ride was bigger and better than ever, but it came at price.

Two months following the event in May, Chris posted about how he had "shut down" after the ride.

I am learning, through the exercise of significantly slowing down, that constantly trying to push the envelope further doesn't always equate to long term success.

He alluded to some changes coming for next year.  He posted again in October saying

there may be a little less frill

In November, he started sharing a few more details about his heart and the ride.

So here is where I am at, for 2014 I’m going to take a break from making deals with industry folks and get back to what truly lies deep in my heart, riding bikes just to ride bikes.

...there will be a lot less frill.

...I am going to take a year off from making t-shirts and packets and fancy things.

... I am going to take a year and focus on riding my bike and figuring out ways to get more kids racing. I am going to take a year and talk about whatever I want to talk about. I am going to take a year to get organized and continue down the path that isn’t paved…the path I’ve come to love.

Most of us, like Chris, figure out that the more complicated life is, the less fulfilling it is.  The more simple it is, the more satisfying it is. This is true in all areas - work, family, friends, faith, etc.

While I hesitate to compare myself to Chris, I do have some experiences that make me think I can identify with his journey this year.  In 1998, I did my first big bike event - the MS150 Bike Tour, an annual 2-day charity ride from Duluth to Minneapolis to raise money for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. My dad and I rode together for two years, then we started a work team in 2000. By 2001, we were the largest team and top-fundraising team on the event.  We kept that streak going for 6 years, topping out with 175 riders.

Every year, we would try and out-do the previous year.  How can we grow the team? How can we raise more money? We need money to raise money  - where is that going to come from? etc. etc. etc.

Don't get me wrong. I didn't do this alone. There were dozens of people that helped. And each year, I got better and better at delegating.  In the end, my role was mostly just organizing, delegating, and cheerleading. But it took it's toll.  My dad rode with the team for a couple years. But he finally quit riding because his son was so busy with everything and everybody that we weren't really getting any quality time together anyway.  As my ability to delegate increased, the work load decreased. But not as fast as my enthusiasm. I didn't even know most of the people on the team anymore. I was just going through the motions trying to figure out how to get off this roller coaster that I had started.

I felt great about the purpose. And I received lots of encouragement from my friends who had a direct connection with MS, as well as the MS Society itself. But the encouragement just prolonged an effort that needed an overhaul.  In the end, we didn't get a chance to figure out how to make it work. The company started imploding, followed by the entire mortgage industry.  It was an easy and welcome exit for me. I still enjoy the ride every year, but I'm enjoying it simply as a participant with no additional responsibilities.

Life is always a balancing act. We want our life to be simple, but we also want it to have impact. And when we experience success at making a difference in an area that is important to us, we want to nurture that and see it grow. And sometimes things start getting complicated - out of balance.  I don't think we ever arrive at a permanent place where we have finally found the balance.  I think life is constantly monitoring and adjusting to ups and downs. Just like riding a bike. Some days we're climbing, some days we're coasting. We shift gears as required (those of us who have gears do, anyway).

So I applaud Chris for stepping back, identifying what is truly important, and figuring out to move forward in a healthy way. I'm so glad Chris has the wisdom to get off the "bigger and better" bandwagon. Because he's not the only one that wins. We all win. Even if the result was no more Almanzo, we all win. We win because we have someone like Chris modeling for us how to put first things first.

Chris seems to be worried that these changes will impact participation.

I know that change is odd sometimes and I completely understand if these changes force you to look elsewhere for adventure.

Well, Chris, this might backfire on you.  I, for one, am more excited than before for next year's Almanzo 100.  See you in May. Or maybe at a winter Almanzo party.