One Degree

“The difference between where you are and where you could be lies in the smallest of  decisions.” — Unknown

A memory from six years ago popped up on FB this week and has me thinking about change.

Not the kind that hits all at once like lightning—but the slow, steady kind. The kind you barely notice until one day you look up and realize your life has shifted.

Six years ago this week I announced that I signed up for my first race—seven miles along the Cape Cod coast. 

I wasn’t a runner. Never jogged. I just wanted to raise some money to support a team advocating for my son’s rare disease.

I had no idea what that choice would unlock.

It wasn’t some grand transformation. It was a quiet nudge. Even though I had never run any type of race, I heard a whisper from within: You could do this. 

I trained alone. I drank too much on vacation the week before the race. I crossed the finish line anyway—with tears in my eyes and $20,000 raised. More than double my goal.

What I didn’t realize then was that this seemingly small decision—a one-degree shift—was setting a new course for my life.

That’s the thing about catalysts. They don’t always feel catalytic in the moment. They often arrive disguised as discomfort, challenge, or curiosity. A subtle pull toward growth.

Connecting the Dots Backwards

Looking back, I can see how dramatically that decision altered the course of everything in my life—not outwardly, but inwardly. 

About the story I told myself about who I was and what I was capable of. 

That first race in 2019 opened the door.

Then COVID hit. I didn’t want to lose the progress.

My buddy Coop’s daily push-up challenges kept our friend group getting stronger as the world locked down.

That served as a catalyst to another great friend, Andy, suggesting we do our own makeshift triathlon that fall.  Which lead to an annual triathlon race ever since.

New routines. Better habits forming along the way.

It was creating a new level of awareness and belief in what I was capable of.

And maybe most importantly—I started to understand how much my mindset was shaping my reality.

From my first, solo seven-mile race in 2019 to now leading a 40+ person team into my sixth triathlon. A team that is poised to raise more money in one summer than we have in 13 years of advocacy. 

From a private goal to a community movement. 

I never could have predicted that. 

That’s the beauty of these small shifts, they can create a reality which is hard to believe.

Change is Messy

This journey wasn’t linear. It never is.

I often slide back. I crush a pint of ice cream. (Just me?)

I indulge old vices and habits that hold me back. I can still hear those familiar voices of self doubt and criticism. 

Then I reset. Recenter. Realign. I turn the volume down on those internal saboteurs. 

And I remember what I’ve proven I’m capable of.

I listen to, and believe, the voice that says that l am capable of anything.

Real, lasting change requires more than motivation. We need that mental awareness—the ability to observe ourselves with honesty, redirect gently, and return again.

There’s a quote I love:

“Most people overestimate what they can do in a year and underestimate what they can do in ten.” It was Bill Gates (or maybe Tony Robbins, depending who you ask)

And I've experienced the reality that lasting change isn’t a straight line. It’s a spiral—one that deepens with each turn, if we stay awake to it.

I understand that perfection isn’t possible, I am human and I will falter. I will stumble backwards.

But if I continue to make progress and stay pointed in the direction that I know is my true north, I can let go and trust that the journey will lead me where I’m meant to be. 

The Journey is All There Is

It’s easy to think of change as a before-and-after story.

But it’s not. There is no “after.”

Behind every mountain is another mountain.

You reach the summit, take in the view, and realize the journey isn’t over. You learn that enjoying the journey is what it’s all about.

And here’s another truth that keeps emerging: the most meaningful changes in my life didn’t start with a master plan. 

They started with a feeling. A spark. A choice to say yes to something just beyond my comfort zone.

That’s the power of one degree.

A small change in direction that, over time, rewires your brain, reshapes your identity, and realigns your life.

I’m writing this column as a result of that decision six years ago. Fulfilling a desire that has burned in me my entire life. 

That power is available to you right now.

You don’t need a full blueprint. You don’t need to fix everything today. Just listen for the next nudge. The next invitation to grow. 

Then move one degree toward it.

– Coach Kris