12 Things I Learned in 2025 (And What I'm Doing About Them in 2026)

Hard to believe 2025 is behind us and we’re sitting in 2026 already. The older I get, the slower my body moves, and the faster time goes by. I'm not big on reflection for reflection's sake, but writing this stuff down helps me think more about what mattered versus what just felt urgent at the time.

These aren't resolutions. I’m pretty sure I have ADD, so resolutions and diets just don’t mesh with that. They're lessons that cost me something to learn, and the specific ways I'm applying them going forward.

1. Risk needs both courage and calculation

Taking risks isn't about being fearless. It's about being smart enough to know which risks are worth taking and disciplined enough to manage the downside.

I took some big swings this year. Frankly, risk has always been part of the job – when I was in the bomb squad and now as a CEO. Risk is just part of the gig. Some risks taken have worked out. Some didn't. But they are a fact of life.

Sometimes we just have to step out. Give that speech. Write the book. Take the job. Make the call. One time, I was worried about a speech and had a choice…speak from the heart or just give a generic talk. I decided to risk it and speak from the core of who I was. Thinking I did terrible, someone came up to me and said, “Sir, people don’t talk like that anymore.” I suppose it could have gone bad, or maybe have been generic had I not taken this approach. But sharing at depth was worth the risk.

What I'm doing in 2026: Continue to take risks. Continue to take some big swings. Not recklessly – I’ll know my safeties, practice fundamentals, and do the prep work. Then just friggin send it.

2. Being a good teammate – The best compliment

I've worked with brilliant jerks who made it about themselves, and ordinary people who made everyone around them better. The latter group built more, moved faster, and enjoyed the process. Titles don’t always make teams better. Behavior does.

I have learned that one of the best compliments a person can receive is that they are a great teammate. A teammate who fosters trust and amplifies results. Be the person people seek out and the one they call reliable.

What I'm doing in 2026: I want to be reliable. Steady. Magnanimous. Humility and competency are two foundational principles of being a good teammate.

3. The chair changes relationships—Loneliness is math

As CEO, friendship comes with an asterisk. Not in a dramatic way. Just in a practical one. This isn’t me staring out the window thinking about loneliness nor feeling sad about it. It’s just a reality of the seat of leadership.

Not everyone can relate to what you're dealing with. The ones who can are often competitors or too far removed to grab coffee. Some friendships cool not because anyone did anything wrong, but because the context shifted. At times, you’re skeptical of people wanting a relationship with you – for you? Or for your influence or position? Other times you’re excluded…because you’re the boss. I said this in another blog and heard it on a podcast: loneliness is a kind of tax for the complex mind.

What I'm doing in 2026: I tend to keep people at arm’s length naturally. But I am trying to be better about being more present with those in my small circle who are authentically there. I hope to be more open to relationships with peers—other CEOs, founders, people outside my normal proximity. And I’m rooting out those that don’t belong in my circle anymore.

4. Sweep the sheds

The All Blacks have this tradition: after a match, even the star players clean the locker room. They call it "sweeping the sheds."

The idea is simple—no one is too important for the small stuff. The best players understand that excellence isn't just about the big moments. It's about doing what needs doing, even when no one's watching. Sweeping the sheds is a tradition that defines culture. It is a non-negotiable.

What I'm doing in 2026: In 2026, I want to find ways to reinforce the role of humility as part of the culture of an organization. That even while winning a world championship, the team sweeps the sheds. Greatness starts with grounded actions.

5. Legacy lives in the moments when it matters most

You're not remembered for the easy wins or the routine days. You're remembered for how you showed up when things were hardest and the stakes were highest.

In the past, I think we were at our best in some of the toughest moments. COVID was a challenge for businesses. I think we had one of our greatest years in the midst of that challenge. You can be great in the ordinary. Reputation can be built in normal circumstances. But legacy? It’s built when the pressure is highest, and your team delivers its greatest performance when the stakes are the highest.

What I'm doing in 2026: I will continue to prepare relentlessly, like Walter Payton running the hills, so that my teammates can count on me when it matters the most.

6. Navigating Narcissistic Challenges with Quiet Resolve

Dealing with narcissistic behavior and abuse requires a lot of patience. I’ve dealt with this both personally and professionally. I’ve learned that you must stay calm and quiet through the accusations, gaslighting, emasculating treatment, alienation, manipulation, and everything else that comes with it. You have to navigate their claim of being a victim with wisdom and sometimes even amusement. You have to look beyond the flying monkeys they mobilize at your expense. At the end of the day, you have to be accountable for you and trust that truth will emerge. 

Narcissistic abuse is real. Accountability is necessary to move forward. But you don't owe bad actors a conversation.

What I'm doing in 2026: I'm getting faster at recognizing red flags—people who never take responsibility, who twist your words, who make you feel crazy. When I see those patterns, I'm setting boundaries immediately and limiting exposure. Some people aren't my problem to solve.

7. The pain of losing proves you care and makes you stronger

Loss is hard. Pain is real. But both are proof you showed up fully for something worth caring about. Losing a big contract you worked hard for is tough. But when you are accountable and objective, you can learn and grow from it. Having a child refuse to talk to you is brutal. Losing a friend is tough. You can let these circumstances crush you or make you stronger. Choose the latter.

What I'm doing in 2026: I'm not going to protect myself from caring deeply just because loss is possible. The goal isn't to avoid pain—it's to make sure the things I'm investing in are worth the potential cost. It’s ok to reflect on what was lost and process it. Eventually, you can turn that into motivation.

8. You're more capable than you think

I think we’ve all had moments this year where we genuinely didn't think we could handle what was in front of us. Too complex, too high-stakes, too far outside our experience or capabilities.

And then we handled it anyway.

Our self-doubt is often just our brain's way of protecting us from discomfort. But discomfort isn't danger. And on the other side of most hard things is proof that you were capable all along.

What I'm doing in 2026: When I catch myself thinking "I can't do this," I'm reframing to "I haven't done this yet." Small shift, big difference. And I'm keeping a running list of things I didn't think I could do but did—for the next time doubt shows up.

9. Decisiveness is Powerful

Perfect information is a myth. Waiting for certainty is just procrastination in disguise. Overthinking is a thief of momentum. Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do as a leader is to just take that first step.

The times I made clear, fast decisions—even when they were wrong—I could course-correct quickly. The times I waffled or tried to keep all options open, I just burned time and momentum.

What I'm doing in 2026: Focus on movement and momentum. Just decide to take the first step and adjust if necessary.  

10. Do hard things on purpose

There is something powerful about having a journal full of hard things you did or overcame. I felt like a million bucks after ice climbing in Alaska. After needing CPR to bring me back to life, I came out of it with a new resolve (don’t recommend that). What I’m saying is that our routines provide comfort. And as a book title suggests, there is a comfort crisis. Stretching ourselves teaches us our strength, resilience, mental toughness, and builds confidence.

What I'm doing in 2026: Once a quarter, I'm want to do something physically or mentally challenging that scares me a little. A long hike, a competition, learning something completely new. Not for productivity—for perspective.

11. Stress points to what you're avoiding

I used to think stress came from having too much to do. But this year I noticed something: my stress was highest when I was avoiding something difficult, not when I was actually doing difficult things.

The conversation I needed to have. The decision I kept delaying. The truth I wasn't ready to face.

Stress is often a signpost, not the problem itself. Stress is the ghost of unmade decisions or tasks avoided.

What I'm doing in 2026: I want to ask myself: "What am I avoiding this week?" And then I'm scheduling time to address it early. The things we avoid don't go away—they compound. Better to face them when they're small.

12. Small things compound faster than you think

This one's less dramatic but still has importance.

The daily habits I built this year—the small systems, the consistent actions, the incremental improvements—delivered more results than any single big move.

Compounding works in both directions. Small good choices stack up. So do small bad ones.

What I'm doing in 2026: I'm identifying the 3-5 daily or weekly actions that, done consistently, will transform outcomes over 12 months.

That's it. Twelve things that cost me something to learn.

If even one of these resonates, take it. If none of them do, that's fine too. We're all learning different lessons at different times.

Here's to 2026—may we all be a little smarter, a little tougher, and a little more intentional than we were last year.