What's Around the Next Corner?

amy doyle

02 Mar 2026 — 4 min read

I did go x-country skiing along the Monongahela (see below) after our recent snow storm, but this, fortunately isn't me.

My personal trainer, Logan, has this theory...well, no, for him it's not a theory, it's a doctrine. It's called Proximity to Failure. So, when you're weight training, which I, painfully, am in the middle of, you should always lift more than you possibly think you can. If you're feeling successful, then you're not doing it right (according to Logan). Of course, there are exceptions, like when you're bench-pressing without a spotter, it just wouldn't be cool to crush your chest with a 100 lb bar bell. However, outside of that, you always want to be pushing yourself to the brink. There is something to this. It is often true: a smooth sea never made a good sailor.

Does Proximity to Failure guarantee success, or are there other components? I spent a lot of time watching the Winter Olympics (LOVE!!) a few weeks ago. As we know, not all athletes have been successful at the Olympics. After watching Ryuichi Kihara of the Japan figure skating team, pretty much drop his partner, Riku Mirua, on the ice, Craig commented that gee, here you train for years and years and it comes down to these 3 minutes you get on world-TV, and one mistake is what makes you.

Here's the thing, yes, in the Short Program, Ryuichi dumped Riku on her butt on the ice, putting them in 5th place. We're going to see that replay over and over. But, if you fail, you just gotta keep showing up. Those two skaters from Japan, came back the next night, after that big-time mess-up, skated the free skate event and won the GOLD.

Elan Meyer's Taylor, a mother of two, 5 time Olympian, 3 prior silvers and 2 bronze medals, at age 41 just won her first gold medal in the monobob. She kept at it.

In the 2009-2010 NCAA men's basketball season, the Butler Bulldogs started the season "unranked". And then they improved. Their strategy? They practiced. No kidding. And practiced, and practiced some more. Hard work, and nearly winning the NCAA National Championship in the final game against Duke.

You keep showing up. You push just a little bit more. You go the extra mile. And it's not just Olympic athletes and NCAA basketball players that this is true for. It's the customer service rep that says "hang on a minute, let me try this...".

And this is one of the many, many things I admired about my late father-in-law, Gary Riecke: trying again, trying something new; that sense of seeking for that next thing just around the corner. The awe and wonder, interest and excitement in something new and different. I don't think for Gary, retirement meant kicking back and watching life go by. It meant the next adventure. When he and my mother-in-law, Beverly Riecke (the love of his life!) retired and moved to Green Valley, AZ, he started doing woodworking. And he became a master-wood worker, and teacher, and president of his community association, and a good friend to many. His warmth and great sense of humor would always light up the room, and I always think of him with a smile.

This is the jewelry box Gary made for me.

It's been a year since his passing. He and Beverly raised three amazing sons. I'm blessed with being married to the red-headed middle child, Craig. Gary gave Craig so many gifts, one of which is Craig willingness go the extra mile to help you, to dive into solving the problem, to dig a little deeper, to care a bit more. It's a mix of curiosity, caring and love. I think Gary was deeply sad about leaving his family, who he loved dearly, but he had a deep faith and I believe he's on to the next big adventure.

Link to Craig's blog about his dad

The above link is a fun and moving post that Craig wrote, which so very much captures his dad.

A few years back, while on a walk in Mount Hope cemetery in Rochester, NY (lots of history and beauty here, I highly recommend it), I came across this stone and was moved to take a picture of it.

I don't know who this man was, but it seems he and his family lived a life of hope. Not giving up, or giving-in to despair or finality. Curiosity, caring and love about what there is for us just around the next corner.