I’ve been thinking a lot about the final 5%; about not letting up; about pushing through till the end; about playing hard ’til the buzzer sounds.

It’s easy to complete 10 of your 12 reps on the weights and think “Aw, I lifted today. That’s good enough.”

It’s easy to walk 2 1/2 of your three miles of exercise and think “Aw, that’s enough.”

It’s easy to think that your spouse or kids or co-workers know you love them so there’s no need to tell them.

When you are winning in the athletic contest or the game of business, it’s tempting to ease up—to relax and coast until the buzzer sounds, and that’s when your competitor overtakes you and you lose the game.

It’s all about the final 5%.

When I was a kid playing baseball my coaches always made a big deal about running out first base even though it was obvious you were about to be thrown out. You never know when the first baseman is going to drop the ball; Likely when he thinks to himself “aw, this is easy. We got him.” So he slacks, doesn’t bear down, fails to focus, gets careless, drops the ball, and misses the easy out. He didn’t give it the final 5%.

Success is often about persistence—hanging on just a little bit longer than everyone else. Then you win the game and get all the marbles because everyone else quit and went home. They were ninety-five-percenters.

I want to be the guy who gives the final 5%, and get’s the 100% for doing so. That’s the kind of people I want on my team, and in my tribe. Those are the people who win.

In the midst of an 80% culture (or 60%, or whatever it really is out there) you and I can excel as champions if we’ll learn to be hundred-percenters. But even excellent people like us are tempted to pull up short and coast, and it jeopardizes us.

How are you doing with the final 5%?

It’s part of being human, or Christian, at least American. When our neighbor has a fire we run to help.

Fires happen all the time. Sometimes there are smoke and flames. Heart attacks and sickness, death, storms, job loss, wayward kids (or spouses), marital pain, financial reversal; those are just some of the fires happening in the lives of people around us.

We had two fires in our company this week. The first was a formal-eviction-set-your-stuff-out-on-the-curb-while-the-sheriff-stands-by kind of fire where a lady refused to pay her rent and refused to move out. Glyn, who runs our property management division, told me of how he called Phil and Justin from our construction team, and they brought some of their subcontractors (who didn’t get paid to come do this), and then Goeff and Elijah from our office stepped in, and Joe, and Mark from the field, and in less than 30 minutes they had an entire house totally emptied out and set on the street corner. 30 minutes! Our guys ran toward the fire, not away from it.

The second fire came when our #1 key, professional, credentialed, outside team member  (and a person for whom we’d had the utmost and deepest respect  and who we trusted so much that we’d given him control of our bank accounts) quit via email at 3:30 p.m. on April 15 and left us with no tax returns, about $200,000 of written checks unfunded, a payroll check and distribution checks missing, but kept our files, computer, coupon books, etc. How internal people from our team and external people rushed to the fire was inspiring. Jane Knudson—whom I’ve never met but who operates www.CFOJANE.com from her DesMoines base where she does work for a friend of mine—immediately contacted us, said she’d already talked with her partner’s husband (a tax attorney) who’d said he could help us file extensions that afternoon, and said “Keep me posted. We’re here for you.” And………I’ve never met her before. THAT’S RUNNING TO THE FIRE!

We didn’t need Jane’s help at that moment, the internal team already had the fire under control. But it gave great confidence to know there was someone we could call if we needed to.

That’s the best of our American / human / Christian / whatever-it-is tradition: the way we help each other during crisis. When two of the guys in our small group were threatened with losing their jobs in the recent Sisters of Mercy / St. John’s layoff, other people in the group had already talked about what we would do to spring into action to help them. That’s running to the fire!

Many years ago, as a pastor with great responsibility, I fell into a pit of great emotional / personal trouble. The majority of the leaders in my church and virtually every pastor I knew looked the other way. But there was one guy, Pastor Gary Denbow of Christian Chapel in Columbia, Missouri who reached out to me. Gary is now the president of Central Bible College here in Springfield, Missouri. I’ve always remembered his doing that and greatly appreciated him for it. He ran toward the fire.

Fires happen. If you haven’t had one yet, you will. It’s just a matter of time.

The question for all of us to consider is: are you the kind of person who runs to the fire?

I want to be. I’m grateful to be surrounded by people who are.

The phone isn’t ringing.

Nobody is calling to say “Please come buy my house.” Nobody is calling saying “Can I please rent this house?” Nobody is calling saying “Can I please invest some money?”

The phone isn’t ringing.

When the phone isn’t ringing I look for reasons. It’s Spring Break. It’s too rainy and nobody wants to get out. The sun is shining and everybody is gone to the park (lake, river, whatever). It’s the holiday weekend. Yada yada yada.

For those of us in the sales business it is demoralizing—emotionally debilitating and a waste of energy—to focus on why the phone isn’t ringing. We can’t stare at the phone and cause it to ring.

We’re very much like farmers. A farmer’s job is to prepare the soil, plant the seed, and wait. The rain may or may not come on schedule. The season may be too cool, too hot, or just right. But for centuries farmers who have planted seeds have consistently gotten a crop. Some years better than others, but a consistently over the years we get more crops than we don’t. Sometimes bountiful. Sometimes skinny. But harvests are consistent events for people who sow seeds.

Our job is to prepare ground and plant seeds. We try to avoid stupid things like planting seeds right before Winter or at the beginning of Summer, or failing to plant seeds at the beginning of Springtime. But we don’t focus too much on wishing for rain, or that it would quit raining. We don’t control rain and sun. We control preparing ground and planting seeds.

Much of life’s pain would be relieved if we’d let go of what we cannot control, and focus on the things that we can control.

An ancient book of wisdom written by one of the world’s greatest salesmen says “In due time we shall reap if we do not grow weary.” It’s interesting that he didn’t say “In due time we shall reap.” Why did he ad the “weary” part? Because this business if sowing and reaping has just enough uncertainty to it to keep us off balance and to cause us to lose our focus—to grow weary of the things we can’t control and to give up our sowing enterprise.

When you are weary like I am, don’t lose heart. Surround yourself with people who refuse to lose heart. Don’t focus on the weariness of sowing, or the “worry-ness” of why the rain and sun aren’t coming in perfect proportions exactly on schedule. Instead, focus on the faithful truth that today’s reapers are yesterday’s sowers, and those who grow too weary to sow, experience 100% crop failure.

Now I think I’ll go down to Nixa Hardware and buy some seeds……….

“There are four quarters in a game, and four quarters in a year. At the end of the year did you walk away having won, or did you just play the game?” Nola Peterson crystalized that thought yesterday at the end of a brief Year End Sprint training session in which I focused our top leadership on “running through the bag” so the year could be completed instead of  just lazily “trotting” the bases until the year was over. It’s an important thought. Are you winning, or just playing.

I think most people engage their work for the sport of it instead of playing to win. It’s a game to get up everyday, suit up, show up on the playing field, drink Columbian Gatorade with friendly teammates, step to the workstation to run a play, drink some more finely ground Columbian Gatorade, have half-time, then go back to the playing field and run a few more plays all the while waiting for the clock to run out. I call this “Playing between the 40’s.”

In football if your team manages to keep the game between the two forty yard lines, nobody wins. The ball moves a few feet one direction or another while players repeatedly grunt, sweat, and pile into a heap. Not much exciting happens, and no points are scored. They don’t give points away for “fine execution between the 40’s.” You are credited with points when you break across the 40 and drive into the opposing team’s end zone.  Trophies don’t go to teams that consistently “deep into the 42 yard line.” Trophies go to teams that break across the goal line and occupy the enemy’s territory.

Notice the use of the word “break.” If you are going to succeed you’ve got to have a break out, away from the rest of the pack. You’ve got to break away from old habits and break-up with negative people who are holding you back.

Why don’t more people experience breakouts? I think its because breaking out involves risk. If I stay huddled with my team between the 40’s, nobody is going to criticize me for showboating and my opponents aren’t going to come crashing into me, making me eat dirt because I broke out. There is camaraderie in the huddle and safety in the group. There is no thrill of victory. There are no awards for accomplishment. There is no forward momentum for greater achievement. But it’s safe. If you’ll just agree to not go beyond the 40, the other team will take it easy on you when they tackle you and make it look like you are really playing the game. If you won’t embarrass them and make them run “all the way” down to the endzone. They won’t face-plant you. But that’s no way to live, knowing neither the sweet taste of victory nor the satisfaction of giving your best amidst defeat.

If you are going to be successful, you’ve got to break out away from the group. You’ve got to take the risk that when you rise above the crowd somebody will take a shot at you. You’ve got to understand that people you thought were your friends will suddenly turn on you because your hard-work, effort, and success make them feel bad about their own life between the 40’s. But life and work are not hobbies played for mere entertainment, we’re here to win. When we win big we advance the ball for our family, our team, and all the people depending on us. And, we give ourselves the respect we deserve. We are worthy of being winners!

As we make the final turn in 2009 and head toward the starting gate for 2010 let’s evaluate our game. Let’s be willing to do the hard work so that in 2010 we can spend more time dancing in the end zone of life.