One More Mile
I used to run a lot. Not just often, but far (like 100 miles far). We called ourselves the Pirana Brothers (shout out to Doug & Dinsdale, and Spiny Norman) and we ran 200-mile relays with only four runners, hosted and ran 100-mile races, and did lots of other crazy things.
On really long runs, if anyone asked how much farther, our collective response was always, “One more mile.” We figured we could always run one more mile. Realistically, during long races, we often found ourselves focusing on running to the next light pole, intersection, or whatever marker was in sight and achievable. The trick was not to think about how far we had to go—because that would kill you.
I have a friend who is battling cancer. This is his second fight, and he’s getting ready for a third. When I asked him how it was going over breakfast one day, he said, “One more mile.” We talked about how all those years of pounding out the miles might just be what gave him the tools to fight his present battle. Thinking about the future and all its possible outcomes won’t help. He is focused on getting through each day the best he can.
The wisdom of “one more mile” isn’t just about endurance. It’s about where you put your attention. On mile 47 of a 100-mile race, thinking about the remaining 53 miles is a recipe for quitting. But running to that tree up ahead? That’s doable. Then the mailbox after that. Then the turn in the road. String enough of those together and eventually you cross the finish line.
Leaders often make the opposite mistake. We paint grand visions of distant destinations. Five-year plans, transformational goals, the promised land over the horizon. That’s important work. Someone needs to know where we’re going. However, vision without direction paralyzes more teams than it inspires.
Your people don’t need you to constantly remind them about mile 100. They need you to help them see the next light pole.
We recently launched Project Fusion, our new ERP system (a massive undertaking that’s been years in the making). If we had spent the months leading up to go-live obsessing about everything that had to be perfect on that date, we would have created anxiety, overwhelmed everyone, and probably caused a panic. Instead, we focused on what needed to happen each week, each day, each hour. That was manageable. That was progress we could actually make.
The difference between vision and direction matters. Vision is aspirational. It pulls us forward with the promise of something better. Direction is operational. It tells us which way to turn right now. Great leaders provide both, but they emphasize different things at different times.
When things are uncertain or difficult, direction becomes more valuable than vision. My friend with cancer doesn’t need someone reminding him about all the treatments ahead or the statistical probabilities. He needs to know what to do today. Take this medication. Show up for this appointment. Rest when you need to. Eat what you can. One day at a time.
The same principle applies when leading through change, challenge, or complexity. Your team already knows the stakes are high. They already feel the weight of the goal. What they need from you is clarity about the immediate next step. What’s the light pole we’re running to right now?
In recovery, we have a saying: “Do the next right thing.” Not the next ten right things. Not the perfect thing. Just the next right thing that’s in front of you. This keeps you from getting overwhelmed by everything you need to change or fix or accomplish. It keeps you present and focused on what’s actually within your control right now.
This isn’t about lowering expectations or thinking small. It’s about understanding how human beings actually accomplish hard things. We do them one step at a time, with our attention on what’s immediately in front of us. The marathon gets run one mile at a time. Cancer gets fought one day at a time. The transformation gets completed one task at a time.
Your job as a leader isn’t to constantly remind people how far they have to go. Your job is to help them see what’s achievable right now, celebrate when they reach it, and then help them see the next one. Build momentum through proximity, not through pressure about distance.
When someone on your team feels overwhelmed, don’t give them the big picture again. They’ve already got that. Help them find their next light pole. What’s the one thing they can do today that moves them forward? What’s in sight and achievable right now?
The future will take care of itself if we take care of today. The vision will become reality if we’re faithful to the direction. The finish line will arrive if we just keep running to the next marker.
So, when your team asks how much farther, remember what we used to say on those long runs: “One more mile.” And then help them see where that next mile actually is. Not way out on the horizon, but right there in front of them, close enough to reach.
That’s how great things get accomplished. That’s how impossible challenges get conquered. That’s how we serve our people. One light pole at a time. One day at a time. One next right thing at a time—the Bison Way.