Have you ever wanted to master something quickly? In this episode, I discuss 3 secrets that will ensure you level up in the video game of life--faster than you can imagine, but I'll warn you, you're going to have to get really uncomfortable.

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WEBSITE:

https://www.ifthenpodcast.com

EMAIL:

[email protected]

CREDITS:

Written and produced by Jordan Taylor

Some racing sounds from NorCalCycling: https://www.youtube.com/c/NorCalCycling

Some racing sounds from NationsNumber1Beast: https://www.youtube.com/user/nationsnumber1beast

TRANSCRIPT:

My name is Jordan Taylor, and welcome to the If Then Podcast. Our brains our a conglomerate of if/then statements, like in computer code, and oftentimes new lines of code are hard to write in our mind when we’re trying new things, for example if I want to play piano, then I need to read music. Sitting down and coding that particular if then statement could take years of dedication, but when we do sit down and create new then statements for a complicated if, it feels freaking amazing. This podcast is your weekly motivation, and mine, to get uncomfortable and write some neurological code.

“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” - T.S. Eliot

*The sound of riding a bike*

When I got home from getting my driver’s license that summer, the very first thing I did was ride my bike—a dysfunctional, red mountain bike, a hand-me-down from my brother, with no breaks. I zigged and zagged to slow myself on the descent, scraping my soles on pavement as the stop sign approached. The convection oven wind stuck the beads of sweat to my skin as the air hung its humidity like a weighty, damp towel over me—and I came to a stop. My heart pounded from the previous uphill beating. A common neighborhood hill—an Everest to me. Last week, though, I could barely make it up the climb. Dang, now I’m practically flying.

College was on my mind that day, like most days at 18. Decisions started to pile. Where should I go? Should I go at all? Maybe there’s a collegiate bike racing team around, is that even a thing? All I knew was that in the confusing racket of it all, somehow that noisy, squeaking bike, gave me quietude. A car passed. I pedaled home with legs aching from the 5 mile, 100% effort. I couldn’t possibly go harder.

Months later, my dad bought me my own road bike as I got more interested in the idea of racing and even found a college team to apply for. I had been riding every single day for the past month and was getting really serious about it—even getting faster on my timed course I had created around my neighborhood. I was practicing for a race series that I had just heard about in Nashville. Turns out, the last race of the year was actually on Wednesday. Here was my opportunity to prove to myself that all the hard effort I had put in had paid off. Because I had pushed myself so hard the past few months every day, I had the sneaking suspicion that my first race was going to be a complete blow out.

Wednesday came, and with it, the gun. And we were off. A 20 minute beginner Criterium, or Crit, a short looping course. I was put in the lowest tiered race—the one for who I found out were called Category 5 riders due to my inexperience, but I wasn’t so sure that I belonged with the Cat 5s. Maybe I was inexperienced in racing, sure, but strength-wise? We’d find out soon enough.

And we did. Quicker than I thought. In the very first lap, I was riding solo—not off the front, however, but off the back. I couldn’t keep up with the other riders even for a single lap. By the end of what seemed like an hour, I had almost been lapped 3 times by the group. I was destroyed, physically, but surprisingly, mentally, I was quite the opposite. I was inspired. I crossed the line through clenched teeth, minutes behind the rest. Gasping for breath, I had one thought: “I will win this next year.” I had a long way to go, and I had to get there as fast as possible—especially if I wanted to get on that college team. My clock started… now.

In that urgent period of my life, I happened upon 3 highly effective methods to quickly code complex programs into my brain—massively leveling up my character in the video game of life. These 3 coding methods can universally be used in any venture, not just sports. By implementing these, I improved so fast that the next year, I was the one dictating races, winning, and joining a collegiate team. Later on, I was even able to climb the Smoky Mountains the 2nd fastest of all Tennessee riders.

Now, these 3 coding methods are definitively powerful and can either seem absolutely vital or just “kind of cool and maybe I’ll try one sometime” depending on you and your current paradigm. So before we blow up your character’s stats and make you unstoppable in a ridiculously short period of time, let’s shift your paradigm like mine was that day in that first debacle of a race:

You have something you’re newly excited about, that you love doing, that your family and friends are encouraging you in every time you show them what you’re working on. In comparison to the people around you, you want to be modest but, honestly, you’re working so hard, harder than anyone you know, and with more passion, at that. The thing however, is that, even though you’re doing literally everything you can to focus and strategize and get better, and you’re getting better actually and seeing improvement, if I’m being totally honest with you, you’re probably not nearly as good as you think you are and you’re probably pretty slow at improving too. Most likely, at the rate you find yourself going, you’re not going to be competitive for quite some time, and unfortunately, maybe never. Sure, you might “feel” like you’re doing well, but you don’t even really know what that means, and you might never know because it’s probably gonna take so long that you’ll most likely quit. Again, unfortunately, that’s just statistically true—about 90% of people fail in their start-ups. That’s just a tough fact.

Now, after hearing that, you have 2 choices, you can either be angry or inspired. When I was destroyed that day crossing the line, heart pounding, sweat falling from my reality check, I chose to be inspired, because I had no time for anger. I was immediately willing to utterly change my entire approach to coding my brain. In that change, I found three strategies that massively level up your character quickly and make your success almost inevitable. So here they are:

Strategy 1: Get a map.

During that first race, while I was repeatedly lapped, I realized that I had been in a vacuum for months. 

[sound of silence, maybe a small hum]

In an absolute void of all useful outside influence. Sure, my family members and friends were extremely supportive, and I needed that, but to be honest, they didn’t know anything about cycling or have input to give. Yes, I appreciated their support immensely and they propelled me on, but I had to learn this skill a different way. Going 5 miles was impressive to them and me, when, in reality, going 105 miles isn’t even that impressive. See, before you “ride” with other people in your field of interest, you don’t even really know what it means to ride in that interest. You might feel like you’re making a good effort, and you are trying your best, don’t get me wrong, but at the same time, your effort is utterly pointless.

To explain further, you have to understand one critical thing: your effort means nothing, without an honest understanding of where you are in your overall capability or experience level.

For example, think of capability as a map. There’s a point A which is where everyone starts, minimum capability, no experience to speak of, and then there’s point B which is where everyone wants to be—maximum capability and experience. All effort is is how fast you’re traveling on the map. Without the map, however, you can be going 100mph but be going in circles, breaking down and going no where fast. OR, with the map, you could be going 100mph in the right direction to point B—as you inch closer and closer to MAX capability, max experience. The critical part is the road map. You know how to drive, that’s the easy part, you just need to know where the heck you are and where you need to go. You have to have the road map in order to direct your energy in the consistently right direction to get from no experience to max experience. Otherwise, you’re just going to have a torn up car and nothing to show for it. Put simply, if you don’t know what to improve, how do you improve it? You don’t know what you don’t know.

So after my catastrophic race, I stretched myself and awkwardly got in contact with a guy named Jackson on Facebook who was already on the college team I wanted to ride for, and asked him if he could give me a proverbial map, if I could ride with him sometime, and for some reason, he not only let me ride with him on a weekly basis, but he took me under his wing. It’s amazing to me how much people are willing to help you, if you come to them humbly, asking for their advice and help—even if it doesn’t make sense to you why they would care or take the time. Jackson was a God-send to me, showing me the landmarks on the capability map. Benchmarks I needed to hit, important skills to master immediately, some to master later, still others to micro-dose in every ride. He encouraged me to do things I would have never willingly done on my own—like the time we hurdled down a mile long descent over and over again at 40mph until I would stay 6 inches off his back wheel—drafting the entire way—a vital cycling skill to conserve energy and stay with the group. If I ever backed off even a little from fear, he would slap his thigh, urging me closer. He broke the fear out of me that evening, boosting me ahead like a directed rocket closer to point B on the map, faster and more accurately than I could have ever gone alone.

Find someone in your field who knows where you are in your experience level better than you know yourself. Who can show you the critical capability map so that you can direct your effort in the right direction.

Strategy 2: Be totally immersed.

While it’s critical to have a specific mentorship, it’s just as essential to have a larger group you can learn from and immerse yourself in. Sure, you can close yourself in your room and get Spanish lessons from a tutor once a week, and that’s better than learning alone for sure, but only until you come out of your room and totally immerse yourself in an unpredictable society and new culture, applying what you’ve learned to dynamic real-world situations and making tons of mistakes along the way as you interact with nonspecific people, only then will you ever make quantum leaps to point B. To make these leaps, you have to be willing to make a lot of public mistakes and get kindly corrected or even openly criticized—like the time I was on a big, Saturday morning group ride, one I was committed to be battered on every single week for months just to learn, and a rider cussed me out after I put a heavy, inexperienced hand on him at 30mph to push him through the line of speeding riders as I tired out—knocking him and me momentarily off balance. Each correction—a deeply etched memory. A directed leap forward to point B. Immerse yourself in your craft by willingly going in as many uncomfortable situations as you can possibly manage, because that’s when your brain is engaged the most.

Strategy 3: Don’t quit too early.

The racing season finally started back up after months of intensive training, and even though I was, now, a determining factor in races each week, first place? That was still alluding me. Top 5 after top 5, but with the last race of the season, I had one last chance when the gun went off. It’s hard to describe, but sometimes you just feel it—unstoppable in those moments. I could feel my strategic training in my body. My thighs bulged and relaxed bulged and relaxed with each experienced pedal stroke through the pack of riders. I was sitting pretty in 2nd place, the safest place to be I learned, as the race was coming to a close. Not only was I safe from the wind but also safe from the unpredictable nature of having 30 men with metal piling, puffing, and pedaling all around you. I just had to worry about one rider and one rider alone. 6 inches off his wheel, I drafted him, as we leaned hard left through an apex and then right through another. And then, all at once, just like that, my race ended. My last chance. The one rider I followed lost vital traction in the turn and slid out as his bike scraped and cracked and all I saw was sky. I flipped—bike above and whip launched from me and I felt lighter—until I hit. There’s a sound that bikes make. There’s a way that bodies feel. My skin ripped with a roll and a scraping stop. There was a pause. Riders zipping without a glance—just another casualty in the cruelty of a war as my body lay on blacktop. And it was over. Just like that. It was all over. The clock I had set the year before, stopped ticking.

Unlike most will tell you, it’s ok to quit sometimes. Sometimes it’s the right and smart thing to do. But one thing I’ve realized, when you think that that time has come, when you’re convinced it should all just stop, keep going for just a little bit longer. Not forever, just a little bit. Oftentimes, the moment that you think you need to quit and stop your journey to point B completely, is the moment that you need to begin. So why not just see? Hold on. Get up off the discouraging ground. After all, when your confidence is most vulnerable, is when you have the best opportunity to built it, when you have a light speed route to point B, and you don’t want to miss that, do you? Success could just be around the corner, or maybe it’s not, but why not find out? And that’s exactly what I decided to do that day.

With bloody joints and 7 laps to go, I stood, forced myself to my bike, and mounted, and all I knew was to pedal.

My desperate work began. Now in dead last, I had to work my way up in a short period of time as the laps ticked quickly 6, 5, 4—a spot gained here, 5 spots there. I forced myself in the draft after another spot was gained. 3, 2, 1—with heart pounding, it was the last little rise of the last lap, and I somehow fought back to second place, now, behind the dominant man who won most weeks. He looked behind as the hill kicked up, and I knew what was coming. With a dig of the pedals, he accelerated, attacking off the front, a huge gap left between my exhausted body and his powerful one. He was giving it his all, while I had nothing left to give. The wind flogged me all at once as my human shield pedaled away further and further. And I was done. Was second place so bad? I bargained with myself. I can’t expect much else after crashing after all. But in that moment, as he pedaled further away, all I could see was Jackson down that descent, slapping his thigh, urging me closer, urging me on, and I couldn’t stop. I can’t give up now. I gave it one more dig, just to know. With head down and feet stomping, to my surprise, I was gaining on him. It didn’t even take long to catch back on. I did have it in me—it was just my brain telling me I’d hit the limit. When I really hadn’t even come close. As we made the last turn and down the final stretch, I opened up my sprint like he was standing still. I couldn’t believe I had so much left to give after everything that had happened. And I would have never known. To think, I would have never known. It’s ok to quit. But don’t quit too early.

If you get a capability map from a mentor, immerse yourself completely in the culture of the skill, and don’t quit too early, in a short few months, you won’t even be able to recognize yourself. You’ll have coded such massive new programs in your brain in such a short period of time, you won’t even believe it. Not only will you have leveled up your character insanely fast, but you’ll also know exactly the path to take to progress further while having the knowhow and skill to make it happen in a directed and intentional way towards point B. It’ll feel like time travel. Worm holes hopped through dimensions and into new places not even dreamed of, and you’ll be motivated to keep going even when the going gets tough. And then you can’t be stopped.

So I’ll leave you with this: “Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” - T.S.Eliot

Thank you so much for listening to season 2 episode 2 of the If Then Podcast. If you have feedback you want to give me, I would love to hear from you over on my instagram @ifthenpodcast. I always respond. And if you would, leave me a 5 star review if you found this podcast valuable. It really helps the podcast to get seen by other people like yourself. We’re almost at 550 reviews on Spotify and 250 on Apple Podcasts. And don’t forget, for those of you who help me spread the word, I’ve been giving away 2 free 1 month Audible gift cards every week of Season 2. Last week, Lila and Marissa won a free credit for an audiobook of their choice + access to their Plus catalog which includes thousands of audiobooks with no credits needed. All you have to do to enter to win is take a screenshot of this podcast and share it on your Instagram while tagging the account @ifthenpodcast in the post or story. Be sure to follow as well  to know if you’re the winner this week. If you shared the last episode, you can also share this one too to be entered to win again. And if we get 200 shares by the end of season 2, each of you will be entered to win AirPods Max with an If Then Podcast engraving. We’re almost 1/4 of the way there, so keep sharing! Thank you so much for listening, my name is Jordan Taylor, and what if/then will you write today?