Be Specific to Get What You Want.

About a month ago, my husband Carl and I were able to take our first ever week-long vacation. It was well-timed… I had just finished up work on the super-successful Dirt Classic Presented by Kasey Kahne and he was capping off a successful racing season, too. We finally had time to sit back, relax and talk about the future for the first time since the previous winter. See, last year we did something a little bit different – instead of making New Year’s resolutions, we sat down and set our goals and intentions for 2014. We picked a few areas of our life that we wanted to improve on – everything from t-shirt sales and wins to blog subscribers and income levels – and wrote out really specific goals. Thirteen of them, to be exact. I know, I know. I’ve done this a million times before, too. And what did I do? Stuck that little piece of paper God-knows-where and rarely, if ever, thought about it again. This time was different, though. Our goals were specific and measurable, with numbers and a timeframe. The other thing that changed? I hung this sheet up on the wall in my office so I could see it regularly.  (Which also means that every time I got a harebrained idea, Carl could point to that wall and ask if it would get us closer to one of those goals. Eek.) One thing that Carl had personally been disappointed about was that he hadn’t hit his goal for number of wins this season. He wanted to double the previous year’s win count of four to eight...

I quit my job (and I liked it.) What I learned about racing and work.

(Did you get my Katy Perry reference there? That song has been in my head all morning and now it’s probably in yours, too. You’re welcome.) Four years ago this week, I left my last ‘corporate’ job at a downtown advertising agency. In some ways, that seems just as scary today as it was then. But it was also exciting and exhilarating, also the same as it is now. I took a risk, and it paid off. I didn’t have a showstopper exit that I can wax on about. It was like most – I delayed the decision until I couldn’t ignore the voice in my head that said I was ready to take the leap. I put in my notice, wavered, agreed to help the company transition my accounts, and was woken by 4am phone calls from my boss asking me to reconsider. We, the company and I, held on to our safety nets for a long time. But at some point, not quitting became riskier than leaving my cushy salary and benefits, the security of a corporate ladder and a solid paycheck. And that’s when I pulled the plug. Many ‘success’ stories we hear go like this: I had a vision, I quit, I worked hard and I got a big break or built a company and now I’m a success. In racing, you often hear: I got my first go-kart, won a bunch of races, moved up to sprint cars, got a ride and now I’m a success. But it’s what’s in between the lines, the time that you stayed at the corporate job after you...

You’re in the right place. + The Dirt Classic Presented by Kasey Kahne

You’ve come to the right place. That’s what I’m about, in business and life. Whether I’m opening the door to my house or welcoming you to my website, that’s what I want people, my kind of people, to feel. You’re in the right place. That’s one of the million reasons that I’m excited for this weekend. On Saturday, we’re launching what we hope will become the first annual Dirt Classic Presented by Kasey Kahne at Lincoln Speedway, a $20,000-to-win sprint car race that has been, let’s just say, very well-received by both racers and fans already. And the goal? To make every single person who walks through the gates feel like they’re in the right place. Maybe that’s not how my friends on the Dirt Classic team, from Jarrod Adams of Adams Investing to Alan Kreitzer of Lincoln Speedway to Kasey himself, might describe it, but that’s one of my main goals. I believe that events become great because of the experience, and the feelings it invokes. For this race, our shared vision is to create an unrivaled experience. For me, that’s not just the action on the track – the thrill of side-by-side racing, slide jobs and last-lap passes. It’s sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with fans that share the same passion as you do. It’s racing against some of the best in the business, pitting next to a new competitor. It’s listening to music with your family, seeing the joy on a kid’s face when he gets a decal or an autograph, and trading racing stories with old friends. If you’re a race fan, driver, promoter, team owner or manager...

“Keep Grindin’, Man.”

Over the weekend, Carl and I were blessed to be able to take part in the annual Children’s Hospital Heart-to-Heart Picnic hosted by Turner Dairy Farms. I had an inkling that I’d be inspired by the families affected by heart conditions and their caregivers, but I got a bit of inspiration in an unexpected place. Some of the volunteers included members of the football team at Seton Hill University. Many of them had never seen a racecar before in person, but some knew about sprint cars because of the recent media coverage. When there was a break in the action they came over to ask Carl questions. They were respectful and genuinely curious. One player asked if Carl was a professional. When Carl said no, he asked if that was what he was working towards. Carl said yes. His reaction really caught me off guard. He broke into a big smile, nodded and said, “Keep grindin, man.”  He probably didn’t think much of it, but I was so touched by this little nod of encouragement for someone else’s dream. It’s easy to become jaded when you’re consistently talking about racing with other racing people. At first, it seems like everyone is in it together. And we really are. But when you get a taste of success, you may get a reminder that the people you’re talking to are often the same people you’re competing with. Some of them react to ambition and success negatively, as if there’s only so much to go around. “You’re so lucky.” “Must be nice.” “You want to ____? Good luck with that.” “Aren’t you happy with what you...

How do you know? You measure.

How do you know if you’re the best racing wife ever? Well, you obviously look at the racing-wife-scale and see where you match up. Oh wait. There isn’t one. (Unless we live together. In that case, even the dog knows where I rank.) Unlike marriage, there are ways in racing, and in business, to know if you’re improving. You might be winning more races. Or finishing more races. Or feeling more comfortable in the car – whatever’s important to you. But how do you know for sure? You measure. Because you can’t improve what you don’t measure.  Think that’s baloney? The entire basis of our sport rests on who crosses the finish line first, then second, and so on. Our performance is measured every single night. It’s up to us if it’s measured that one time in that one way or many times over in other ways. So why can’t you improve without measurement? Anyone who wants to achieve a certain goal (hint: setting a measurable goal is the real first step) has to know where they’re starting from. And they have to know what constitutes improvement towards that goal and what factors actually matter. And that last point is the real key: you have to focus on measuring and improving what actually affects the overall goal.  For example: if you’re looking to be more attractive to sponsors active on Twitter, keeping daily track of your Instagram followers isn’t a helpful act of measurement. You can improve that number without making progress on your overall goal. Measuring Twitter followers is the first step. In racing, there are countless things...

Cheating: why being accused is like a (Ninja Turtle) Christmas morning.

Cheating: it’s a topic that comes up a lot in certain divisions and series of racing. In our area, there’s a constant dialogue about cheating and tech inspections in the modified and late model divisions. With the sprint cars? Not so much. That’s why I get excited when I hear cheating rumors in that division. Everybody reacts differently to being accused of cheating. Some people get mad. Others get self-righteous, hurt or embarrassed. Me? Not so much. No. When my team gets accused of cheating, it’s like Christmas morning. And not just a regular Christmas morning. It’s the Christmas morning when you unwrap a Nintendo and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles sleeping bag and you know you’re going to spend all day sitting in that sleeping bag playing Ice Hockey with your brother until you can’t move your thumbs (or clean your room, thank you very much.) It’s that good. Why? If someone thinks you’re cheating at something, you must be doing something good. Something really good. You must be performing so well, in fact, that it’s inconceivable that you’re following the same rules as everyone else.   On an average night, teams don’t get accused of cheating. You only get accused of cheating if you’re doing something more than just winning. You must be dominating. Maybe you’re winning the majority of your races. Maybe you won from the back of the pack. Maybe you won by a six-second margin. Whatever it is, you’re performance is so above average that your competitors can’t explain it. See, people don’t like to lose. That’s a given. But they can accept being...