Now I Can

Imagine two young boys, maybe 10 and 12; friends.

Bored one summer, the older boy finds a unicycle in the garage of his friend. He hadn’t seen a unicycle in person and didn’t realize that the post to the seat was bent.

In hindsight, the only way it could have gotten bent is if it was left lying around and a car ran over it.

He said: “Let’s learn to ride this.”

The younger boy, not knowing what that meant, said: “Sure!”

The younger boy lived in a home with a bit of a long driveway, maybe two car lengths instead of one, that emptied into a quiet cul-de-sac.

The two-car garage was split in the middle with a brick architectural feature that looked like a shelf. You could lean on it as you put the unicycle into riding position and gained a little balance. You quickly learned not to push yourself forward too much because it would throw your balance right off.

“The trick, was learning how to keep your body balancing vertical and your legs moving in a circular pedaling motion — at the same time.”

It might have been easier if an instructor or anyone with experience could describe what needed to get done and what we were doing wrong — a feedback loop.

Alas, all we had was trial, error, and a competitive spirt.

Each boy’s turn lasted from their initial balancing act - until they fell somewhere along the driveway.

It started with immediately falls.

Eventually, and inch-by-inch, the boys identified micro adjustments they could make in their balance and their movements.

They watched each other. They learned.

They got ideas for improvements as they were failing forward - literally leaning forward and falling.

But, withe each fall, they’d mark the distance.

The distance was the goal. Go an inch farther than the farthest so far.

Progress wasn’t linear. You’d get “lucky” and beat the record. Or, you’d put in 5 reps with no improvement.

This went on for days.

Each day, however, there was no loss of enthusiasm. The boys would meet to beat the record.

There was laughter. There was a need to wrap the seat in a towel and duct tape. The unicycle was getting beaten - as the young boys threw themselves into the future with each forward lean and stroke of the pedals.

It was a foot, then a yard. The boys made it to the end of the driveway.

There was much celebration. They kept at it. The next goal was down to the corner - this was maybe 10 times their initial goal.

They kept at it. Day after day. Inch by inch.

Eventually, they could both ride the unicycle.

That’s it.

Eventually, both could ride the unicycle.

They forced themselves to acquire the skills of balance and self propulsion.

It wasn’t pretty. Nobody would pay to watch.

Fast forward 40 years, and people would definitely watched a sped-up version of the 90 or so days it took to learn the unicycle. But, it’s very likely it would have taken longer because the boys were undistracted. They didn’t have time to edit video. They were focused intently on a single mission, and it paid off.

What do you need to learn?

What would you love to look back on in 100 days from now and think:
“Damn. I’m glad I was willing to crash and burn at every inch - because now … Now I can.”