This column is part of Globe Careers' Leadership Lab series, where executives and experts share their views and advice about leadership and management. Follow us at @Globe_Careers. Find all Leadership Lab stories at tgam.ca/leadershiplab
My life was filled with barriers at a young age; I was ghastly overweight, bombarded on the school yard, the brunt of fat jokes. I had few friends and a glum outlook, that is, until a spark or what I call a "big step" – a helping hand ignited my inner "ski bum."
Neighbour kids were going skiing. They could not get any other kids to go and help pay for gas. I was the last call. This changed my world forever.
I can't even remember their names. Shout out of big thanks to them for giving me wings.
I was monster-sized, taller than others in my width, which made weird my dreams, inspired by National Geographic magazine, of climbing peaks in far-away places. Playground beatings made these high snowy peaks, places of escape.
Freedom now provided by sliding downhill made me my own Nat Geo hero.
That special day I was packed in the back, outcast in a steamy overfilled Ford station wagon, snowflakes plastered the window, a vision of me conquering snowy slopes flashed. I felt different, mountain air filled me, super-charged as if coming from a climber's canister, pumping life into this plump kid who felt like an action hero, but looked more like a sumo, as they pulled me out of the back.
Something was different. A cold day, skis on, I was flying. Fat kids can ski!
A fresh snowy courage filled my veins, a vitality that I have never felt. I forgot to stop. Wait – I did not know how to stop. I hit a tall, linebacker-looking guy in a flashy uniform with Norwegian roots. I tried to hide, digging myself deeper into the snow.
This was it. I thought my day was over. I battened down all the hatches, eyes covered, and ready for the assault. It was going to be the "big and no good" lecture. Fat kids can't do cool sports. Both of his hands picked me up. He brushed the snow off me and said words of care. "You okay? You were doing great! Let's try that again. I will show you how to stop."
That did it. My life big step. All I needed was encouragement and a warm blanket of reassurance. He made me forget 100 pounds, made me feel part of a community, ignited that spark of life spent in the mountains. From there on I never looked back – singularly focused, passion-fueled love for the outdoors. Sorry, mom and dad, but my life was now going downhill. No real job. My life was on another track.
Sixty-plus nights sleeping in a car searching for powder turns would qualify me as a real ski bum. But it was the experiences from the many afternoons living off 5 p.m. 'free appys', the people who took me in pre-Airbnb, sleeping on a thousand couches, those high-five moments, friends that you just met but after a run of 2,000 feet of powder – you were besties for life – those silent times, you and the mountain, alone, all of this wrapped up, taught me stuff.
Here are the five tips from my life as a ski bum:
Après-ski
The party time that happens at the end of every ski day. Break bread together. These gatherings create life-long bonds, a camaraderie like no other, so strong is this connection, a belonging that you can feel like a local in almost every mountain town you go to. It's powerfully good for ski bums. You help others, the early version of a sharing economy, from rides to couches. Built on trust, they take care of your dog, your skis and wake you up on a powder day. Someone is always there for you in this community from those vital mentors, sharing their cards to guide and inspire, to buds ready to collaborate on patching your canoe or fixing your war wagon. Lastly, play is part of all that we do. Don't underestimate the power of play. It keeps you connected with the tribe, always trying new techniques, learning a sport or hobby and that ever-needed push or challenge to climb that distant peak. Simple but powerful core values at work every day. The tribe depends on you. The ski bum community is filled with people like that big Norwegian who provided that big step which changed my world.
First-tracks
Simple powerful motivation to work and play hard. Ski bums are singularly motivated to get up early, be the first on the chair, with the reward of laying down the first tracks of the day. This powerful driver creates hard work ethic, sometimes taking the worst jobs, working crazy hours to be able to fulfill your passion. Prioritizing your time, being driven and developing the power of urgency to make it happen.
Last run
Never give up. There is always something to get up for in life. Don't ever forget that. In ski bumming, you savour that last run. You soak in the reds and oranges of the sun setting behind the jagged range above. It is cold, windy, only fit outside for polar bears, but you persevere, the reward, the last powder run. Your best turns happen, the hard work pays off. Savour life more, make the most of every turn. Though also don't forget your tracks might be influencing others. Ski bums build positive filled, energized paths, creating a fun and fulfilling environment for others. The last run matters every day.
Ski patrol
You learn to pay attention. Ski-bum life requires a survival mode like no other. It teaches you, not only out on the slopes, safe route finding, speed control, avalanche awareness, but off the slopes, it strips it down to the basics. Watch every penny. Your focus is food, shelter and lift ticket. Outdoors you develop a strong but simple respect for your life. Stay alive and keep skiing. You learn trial and error in a powerful way. If the run is too steep for you then you fall. Mother Nature makes you respectful, humble and grateful.
Hot tub time machine
Getting that cold one and sharing those tales. It's a fact that mattering improves happiness and health. Nature is really powerful. Spending time in her arms will relax, revive and refresh you. Skiing every day creates an interest in fitness. Vigorous regular exercise is the elixir of living a potentially longer and happier life. Mix it up, sure you want to do that regular strength and aerobic training, but ski bumming taught me the importance of balance and the need to challenge it always, so be a kid and pull out that slackline.
Matt Mosteller is senior vice-president, marketing, sales & resort experience, Resorts of the Canadian Rockies, in Calgary. He is the author of Adventurer's Guide to Living a Happy Life and writes a blog as Powder Matt.