I spent my 33rd birthday on Sanibel Island.

As we continue to grapple with COVID-19, systemic racism, an insane president, and an economy on the fritz, my privilege is not lost on me. One of the many things my privilege affords me is running. The murder of Ahmaud Arbery this year was a brutal reminder of just how lucky I am to have white skin.

I’ve been running since I was 14 and one of my favorite ways to get to know a place is by running, so you can be sure that I was excited about hitting the “pavement” on this trip.

An intention for this getaway was to relax and reflect on the past year and set goals for my 34th trip around the sun. And, sure enough, I found reflection in the midst of my favorite activity.

The sand turned out to be pretty packed, so I was excited to try the new terrain (I’m used to the concrete in Prospect Park). My first run was tough. I needed to figure out where and how to run – do I run in the surf without shoes or along the very narrow edge between where the waves end and the dry sand begins? But, what about all the FRAGILE SHELLS?

By the second leg of my second (and final) run, there was a moment when I figured it out: I’d need to find a balance along a mutable beach.

I had finally hit a stride where I felt comfortable for a few minutes on my toes along the perfectly packed sand, and then all of a sudden, without warning, the sand dipped, and it became softer, wetter, and forced me off my path. I tried to course correct too quickly, and my ankle twisted a bit, so I just went with it.

In doing so, I realized what a beautiful metaphor that was for life generally, and my career more specifically. I’ve spent more than ten years building relationships with donors and partners and very rarely does anything go exactly as planned. When you work or simply interact with people, successful relationships come from a combination of planning, adaptation, birds-eye as well as on-the-ground perspectives, and situational awareness.

One thing is for certain: there will always be external forces (individuals, markets, politics) – sometimes a confluence of several of them – that will force us to pick our heads up or peer around a corner to figure out the next step. This year – and this particular beach run – have reinforced that sometimes, we just can’t plan for what life will bring and trying to correct too quickly can pose danger. At a certain point, after practice and experimentation, planning and experience, you have to trust in yourself that any deviation from “the plan” is one you can handle because you’ve put the work in learning how to adapt, course-correct, and come out on top.

What’s more, in reaching that point of trusting yourself, you can truly relax – perhaps enter into a state of flow – and have a moment that allows your brain to quiet, appreciate it, and heck, enjoy it.