I AM SPEED RACER
I am not really Speed Racer, but it generally feels like it. I loved watching the show when I was a kid, and if it counts for anything, my recording studio is called Mach 5. Speed wasn’t just his nickname - it was his first name, his identity, and quite literally who he was. That’s what resonates with me. Like Speed, I move fast. Always. Every single time.
I'm not sure if it's because I want to get more done or if it's just that I want to get the thing I'm doing done so that I can attach myself to the sofa for the night. But whatever the reason, I'm always moving fast.
I remember my days mixing sound for a music artist. During setup and soundcheck at the first show of the tour, they saw me running from mix, to stage, to truck, to dressing room, to mix. I hated to make the talent wait, so I figured running was logical and respectful. But they’d never seen anyone in any particular hurry before. They gave me the nickname PDX - pretty darn quick - which played off my initials. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but they were telling me that it wasn’t just a nickname, it was my identity. Just like my hero, Speed.
IT CAN ALSO BE EXCRUCIATING
In my days installing AV systems, we could be on a large construction site with remote parking. Grabbing a tool from a truck could take my guys all day. They’d stroll along the hallways chatting with the other trades, stop off at the toilet, take a smoke, or visit with those who were, miss the pedestrian crossing signal because they were chatting with the guys in a man hole nearby, grab the tool, text to ask if I’d like them to bring me back a coffee, then finally repeat all those steps in reverse. With how fast my clock works, it felt like hours. I started offering to fetch the tools for everyone, sprinting there and back to get it in their hands faster.
Keep in mind, these were largely subcontractors. The faster they got the job done, the faster they received their fixed compensation. They were incentivized to work quickly, but I was missing the point. Some people prefer to enjoy the small and unexpected parts of their day. They knew that the electrician’s apprentice was getting married in two weeks, that one of the plumbers was expecting a baby any day, and that if they took a certain (likely, longer) route out of the building, there was often a leftover donut from the PMs morning huddle. This made their work day enjoyable. They’d be happy to stay there an extra hour to achieve their goal if need be.
BUT WHY AM I SPEED?
Having learned this, why do I still prefer to move fast? I’d like to say that it’s a sign of high-performance, A Type-A personality, hustling to achieve all that is possible, maximizing efficiency. But is that really true? It could just as easily mean that I’m impatient, in a rush for no particular reason, caught in an endless “hurry up and wait” cycle.
To that last point, when I am with a group I find myself rushing to the door, only to wait for 10 minutes before the group is ready to go. I do this constantly. Whether it’s leaving the house, leaving the office, leaving a hotel, leaving a restaurant, leaving a meeting. Once the decision to leave is decided, I’m standing by the door waiting for everyone to gather things and repeat endless goodbyes. In my 58 years, I’ve probably spent a collective 20,000 hours running, but easily 200,000 hours waiting around - a clear net loss. In my defense, I do wait. I’ve known people who simply get up and leave - even if they are the transportation for others. How liberating that must feel to just leave. Then to sleep on the couch for the next week, because this paragraph is not about business meetings at all.
BURNING RUBBER, OR BURNING BRIDGES?
As usual, the only real lesson in these blogs is a lesson for myself. I will never be the best CEO, husband, father, or friend if I don’t stop and ask myself if this supposed asset of mine is an asset at all.
Moving fast has generally served me well from my perspective. Clients of mine have often commented that they can’t believe how quickly I got a project done. But what if my speed has isolated me more than it has propelled me? How come I don’t know that the electrician’s apprentice is getting married? He’d probably appreciate it if I congratulated him or brought him a coffee. Admittedly, my pace has caused rubs in the past with people who have worked for me. Just because I am 58 years into one long sprint, doesn’t mean they are. That is unsustainable, and I respect that. But I do have to remind myself every single day.
So I’ll try to slow down here and there. Even if it hurts. After all, a race isn’t won by speed alone - it’s also knowing when to tap the brakes.
Cheers,
Paul
