Bring it on.

How I became a finance guy after getting a C in Accounting 101.

Calhoun Hall at Vanderbilt University in Nashville. I took an undergraduate accounting course in this building in 2003. And I got a C.

Calhoun Hall at Vanderbilt University in Nashville. I took an undergraduate accounting course in this building in 2003. And I got a C.

Here’s a tip I picked up from Graham Duncan, the founder of East Rock Capital in New York City.

When you’re anticipating doing something uncomfortable, rub your hands together and say, “Bring it on.” Out loud.

I do this. It works.

Before making a difficult phone call. Before beginning a long run. Before jumping in a cold pool. 

It’s good for us to do uncomfortable things, within reason. Because discomfort is necessary for growth.

Growth and comfort don’t coexist.

I’m a partner at a holding company that partners with good people to buy and operate great businesses for the long term. The people stuff is the most important thing to get right. It’s the key that unlocks everything else. And people stuff has always come more naturally to me.

But my job involves numbers too. Spreadsheets, valuations, acquisitions, financial statements. And I’m pretty good at that too. Good enough.

But I wasn’t very good at reading financial statements five years ago. Not really.

In 2017, I was on the leadership team of a tech company in Nashville when another senior leader resigned. She was responsible for all our back-office operations. Finance, accounting, payroll, human resources, and compliance.

She was good at it too. But she resigned. Someone had to do her job, and my CEO asked me to step in.

I wanted to respectfully decline.

I’m a growth guy. A relationship guy. A communicator. I build teams and culture and revenue. I’m not a finance, accounting, and compliance guy.

I got a C in accounting.

But I said yes. Reluctantly. And I became a CFO and Head of HR.

Didn’t see that coming.

The next 12 months comprised the most uncomfortable year of my career. I messed up payroll, I worked long hours, and I screwed up my first attempt at creating an annual budget for our entire company. I ran into my limits.

Uncomfortable.

I wanted to quit. 

But over time, and after making some mistakes, I learned how to do the work. And along the way, the business thrived.

My early mistakes made me humble. My growth that followed made me confident. And if I retook that undergraduate accounting course, I bet I could get a B+. Maybe even an A-.

Growth.

Brooks is my second born. My only daughter. She’s four years old, and she recently asked me to take the training wheels off her little pink bike. We did that thing where I held onto the seat and walked behind her as she rode up and down our driveway trying to find balance. 

The next day, we did it again. But after a few laps around the driveway, we took a break. Brooks said, “Okay Daddy, this time I want you to let go. Now I want to try by myself.”

I asked her if she was sure. I could tell she wasn’t. 

But then she rubbed her hands together and said,“bring it on.”

Growth and comfort don’t coexist.

Bring it on.


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