This morning I was running on the treadmill with an empty treadmill right beside me. This is nothing out of the ordinary since I intentionally plan my workouts at times when the gym is not busy. However, this time that empty treadmill meant much more than just a slow time at the gym. About three weeks ago I was on the same treadmill as I was this morning, and my friend J was on the treadmill beside me. I was cooling down from my workout and just able to catch my breath enough to chat with J for a while. We shared a couple of laughs, talked about some struggles, and then went our separate ways. How was I to know that would be the last time I would ever see him? Three nights ago, I received a text that J had passed away earlier that evening. J is a big, strong guy in his mid-40s, and his passing came as a complete shock. I sat on the couch in stunned silence as I digested the tragic news. This morning, the sight of that empty treadmill hit me hard. J will never walk beside me aga
When I began my journey as a financial planner nearly a decade and a half ago, the world economy was setting the stage for the financial meltdown of 2008/2009 and arguably the most severe financial storm since the Great Depression. As my own career struggled to take flight, people everywhere were losing jobs and retirement accounts were being halved. And amidst the increasingly ominous news reports, the mounting fear and panic added only more injury to personal circumstances as investors made devastating mistakes that placed their financial futures in even greater jeopardy. It was in this chaos I felt it was my job, my duty even, to help people prevent financial mistakes and do everything in my power to ensure they did not run out of money in retirement. It was, and still is, a noble endeavor. But I have learned a few things along the way, and realize now, that mission was just the tip of the iceberg. I have learned that managing money is the easy part and the more critical piece