Everyone talks a good game. How hard is it to confidently assert, “This November I’m running a marathon.” Those of us who’ve actually put one foot in front of another for 26.2 miles realize the size of the canyon separating the assertion from the deed. I’ve run 6-7 or ‘em, and yeah, I really have forgotten the exact number. Then there’s the countless 20 mile runs as the race nears. Oh, and did I mention all the 50-70 mile weeks it takes to create a more or less semi-comfortable marathon? Also, there are the 10-15 half marathons we all ran in the same time period.
Anyone can say they wanna be a real estate investor. They can pursue it to the Nth degree. Most however never get to the point where they’re willing to allow their talk to morph into action. It’s the human condition, and we’re all guilty, just in different subject matters. Take me for instance.
I’ve been pouting for years now about my elbow tendons finally forcing my abandonment of serious bodybuilding. I kept telling everyone, but mostly myself that I was hot on the search trail for an alternative better suited for my new reality. And I did search, but not the way I do everything else. I finally tired of doing all the talking, not to mention the newly acquired size and weight, and found exactly what I was lookin’ for. Going to the gym has that old excitement to it once again. But I hafta be honest and admit I could’ve found this new approach years before this.
I’m now getting the results I used to without killin’ my elbows. I’m a happy, though pooped camper again. By sometime in summer I’ll enter the ‘fit zone’ — that place where you are legitimately in superior condition. How does this translate to retiring well through real estate investing?
That’s easy — time stops for nobody. You’re gonna hit retirement age whether you Plan for it or not, so why not stop talkin’ about it after dinner, or out on the patio with a glass of wine and take some action? We see it almost daily, folks wanting to get started by researching themselves into oblivion. At what point do you realize time ain’t yer friend? It becomes even more mystifying to me when so many of these good people have recently lost 30-50% of their retirement savings.
It’s all about comfort zones.
One lesson I’ve learned over the last few decades is that there are some folks simply not cut out for anything riskier than coupon clipping on Wall Street. That’s not meant the way I’m sure some may take it. I mean it literally. Grandpa wouldn’t invest in real estate unless the Lord Himself came down to bless it — and even then he’d of been a mental and emotional wreck. As in pretty much everything in life, we all find our zones of comfort — that range in which we feel minimum anxiety, and are able to function at a more or less high level. Name a human endeavor, and I bet the shoe fits. Take baseball umpiring.
It can be wicked fun. I had to get into it if only ‘cuz it was my turn in the Little League barrel. Turns out I’m good at it. Also, the attendant pressure didn’t bother me, once I’d surrounded the rule book and the field mechanics. Within about 18 months I’d worked my way up to a pretty high level of adult ball, and was approached by the local NCAA umpire association to try out. I was scared you know whatless, but they liked what they saw, and my college career was born.
As an umpire comfort zones are hugely important — I’d even say crucially so. If you ever wanna see ‘comfort zones’ in action, watch a group of Little League umpires in the parking lot before a post season All-Star game. As soon as the subject of who’s gonna call balls and strikes comes up, everyone becomes mute. Most of them were uncomfortable with the pressure of post season, the crowds and attention it drew. Others though, seemed to thrive on it, as they viewed it as being paid to have fun. (The pay, by the way, was a burger and a coke.)
It’s the same for real estate investors. Some can comfortably pull the trigger, some can’t. No big deal either way. This is why I’m so grateful to my years working for the NCAA, and all the other levels of baseball. It showed me in real time about people under pressure, and how comfort zones should be respected. It’s one thing to overcome our natural tendency to be nervous, it’s quite another to throw ourselves into situations for which we know we’ll end up scared silly all the time. Why would you put yourself in that position?
I’ve had many people come up to me after a particularly exciting game to tell me they could never do that — too much pressure. Yet as many pressure situations as I’ve experienced as an umpire over the years, it never got past a 6 on the 1-10 scale. Yet I would never, ever, not for a million bucks get on a super bike and go over 200 miles an hour. I know a guy personally who’s not only done that more than a few times, he went nearly 200 mph with his wife on the back! Sorry, but that’s so far from my ‘biking’ comfort zone, it’s in another galaxy far, far away.
All this is to say I understand when folks would love to invest, but just can’t make themselves pull the trigger. We’re all that way, just in different arenas. No sweat. This is why when someone has taken the steps to send me a note, then speak with me on the phone, but doesn’t do what they know makes sense — I back off 100%. I wouldn’t want folks tryin’ to push me past my comfort zone. You think there’s anything you could ever say to make me go that fast on a bike? 
Exactly — which is why I get it when some folks simply don’t have it to jump into the real estate investment pool.
This is me tellin’ you I get it. You’ll either expand your zone down the road, or you won’t. I promise you won’t hafta worry about me pushin’ you where ya don’t wanna go. We’re pretty much alike, most of us, and being forced out of our comfort zones isn’t the way to make friends and influence people.
‘Nuff said.
Step up and email me if you’re ready to find out what’s up with your options menu. Most are surprised when they learn what’s possible. Ask me for my cell number, or send me your number, and we’ll talk. A very comfortable talk. Have a good one.
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Another great post. But I gotta bring another angle into this. For the last 100 years modernity has been successfully isolating us from the risk of living. It wasn’t that long ago that diseases, child birth, work, etc. all posed serious issues with the grim reaper. Our minds and emotions were and still are attuned to managing this risk. But we have collectively forgotten how to manage risk. Didn’t matter for the folks who recently retired because they generally had pensions where others managed the risk for them and the government managing the other risks; living too long or too short or getting sick or hurt (social security, medicare, workers comp, etc). All they had to do was get up and go to work for their entire lives and allow others to manage the risks. But pensions are gone the way of the dodo bird and social security is in trouble and the market doesn’t always rise (either real estate or stocks and bonds)and companies promises aren’t always worth the parchment they are written on. So the choice is to either stick one’s head in the sand too avoid all this talk of risk or meet it head on. For those who stick their heads in the sand it will be a very sad end of life. For those who meet the risk head on, a learning curve and then opportunity to have a very comfortable retirement independent of the government, Wall Street, Insurance companies, etc who are preaching risk avoidance as a strategy. Emotions can be tempered, controlled, and used to find success in the financial world. I know because I do that every day of my life.
But to simply stick your head in the sand, avoiding risk, is not going to do much good in an environment where we are left to our own devices to prepare for our end of life years.
Dave — I knew you’d be chiming in, and glad you didn’t waste any time.
We all have stories to tell on ourselves about how our various comfort zones led us into unintended consequences for which we paid dearly. How many of us would never have met our wives/husbands but for stretching our comfort zones?