I stood in my friend’s flat watching the Berliners revolt against the sky. They were merciless to her with a barrage of fireworks that lasted until three or four in the morning. It was New Year’s day now and the changes that 2019 would bring inched closer with every pop, bang, and fizzle.
A twelve year career in the Navy Explosive Ordnance Disposal community for the Navy was coming to an end, and I had no clue what I was going to do next. As things often do with me, the idea struck me with certainty. I was going to go to business school, but not just any business school. I was going to study my ass off and get into the best Business Schools in the world.
The next day I reached out to my friend Sam to tell him my plan. He and I went through Dive and EOD School together and he has always been a great mentor to me. He was excited for me but encouraged me to look at options that would get me outside. I listened to him but didn’t waver, and once it was clear that I was set on my decision, he set me up with what I needed to know.
When I came back from my trip to Europe, I had a new temporary passion—study for the GMAT. I took a few practice tests and did horribly. I expected to do poorly on the math section but when I got low marks on the verbal section I was deeply offended. Over the next few months I studied for four hours a day, hired a tutor, took weekly practice tests, and even quit drinking Scotch in the evenings. My practice tests showed minimal improvements at first but I knew I would get the scores I needed, which, looking back, may have been pure foolishness.
As my test date got closer my life became a bit more hectic. I was preparing for the bike trip I am on now while trying to study, but I didn’t relent on either. They were both going to happen the way I envisioned them.
For my first real attempt at the GMAT, I took a full on test for practice a few months prior, and crushed it. My scores were high enough that even Harvard and Stanford would consider me as a competitive applicant, and, while I wasn’t interested in their cutthroat reputations, I felt good about that.
Months and miles went by and what proved to be more difficult were the application essays. Well, one essay in particular: “Why an MBA and why Dartmouth?” I was stumped. I read Sam’s essays and so many others to get solid ideas but none of it helped.
Eventually, I was forced to reconcile with the fact that there may be a reason that I struggled with this question but wasn’t ready to swallow that pill yet. I continued to put off this one essay and work on others while I pedaled my way across America. Every day spent on the road flew in the face of my plan to go to business school. I met folks that I connected with in the trades, police departments, and fire houses, but I continued to lean towards business school for all the wrong reasons. One of the big ones was that I didn’t grow up in a house where going to an Ivy League school was even an option, so I felt like I needed to walk through that door, but, more shamefully, I was chasing the big bucks that would come after it. I wrestled with it with every down stroke through the Rockies. Sandpoint, Idaho was the tipping point. Before then, Montanans showed me how happy you can be with a median income and not giving your life to your job, but to your friends and family. I found something similar in Sandpoint—a group of hardworking folks that chose a lifestyle over their base salary.
Shortly after, I withdrew my applications, and, this week, I watched the deadlines pass by with a smile and great company. I don’t know what’s next for me. I may keep pedaling after a break in San Diego or I may find a spot to settle down in, but what I do know is I feel good about what is on the way.
A twelve year career in the Navy Explosive Ordnance Disposal community for the Navy was coming to an end, and I had no clue what I was going to do next. As things often do with me, the idea struck me with certainty. I was going to go to business school, but not just any business school. I was going to study my ass off and get into the best Business Schools in the world.
The next day I reached out to my friend Sam to tell him my plan. He and I went through Dive and EOD School together and he has always been a great mentor to me. He was excited for me but encouraged me to look at options that would get me outside. I listened to him but didn’t waver, and once it was clear that I was set on my decision, he set me up with what I needed to know.
When I came back from my trip to Europe, I had a new temporary passion—study for the GMAT. I took a few practice tests and did horribly. I expected to do poorly on the math section but when I got low marks on the verbal section I was deeply offended. Over the next few months I studied for four hours a day, hired a tutor, took weekly practice tests, and even quit drinking Scotch in the evenings. My practice tests showed minimal improvements at first but I knew I would get the scores I needed, which, looking back, may have been pure foolishness.
As my test date got closer my life became a bit more hectic. I was preparing for the bike trip I am on now while trying to study, but I didn’t relent on either. They were both going to happen the way I envisioned them.
For my first real attempt at the GMAT, I took a full on test for practice a few months prior, and crushed it. My scores were high enough that even Harvard and Stanford would consider me as a competitive applicant, and, while I wasn’t interested in their cutthroat reputations, I felt good about that.
Months and miles went by and what proved to be more difficult were the application essays. Well, one essay in particular: “Why an MBA and why Dartmouth?” I was stumped. I read Sam’s essays and so many others to get solid ideas but none of it helped.
Eventually, I was forced to reconcile with the fact that there may be a reason that I struggled with this question but wasn’t ready to swallow that pill yet. I continued to put off this one essay and work on others while I pedaled my way across America. Every day spent on the road flew in the face of my plan to go to business school. I met folks that I connected with in the trades, police departments, and fire houses, but I continued to lean towards business school for all the wrong reasons. One of the big ones was that I didn’t grow up in a house where going to an Ivy League school was even an option, so I felt like I needed to walk through that door, but, more shamefully, I was chasing the big bucks that would come after it. I wrestled with it with every down stroke through the Rockies. Sandpoint, Idaho was the tipping point. Before then, Montanans showed me how happy you can be with a median income and not giving your life to your job, but to your friends and family. I found something similar in Sandpoint—a group of hardworking folks that chose a lifestyle over their base salary.
Shortly after, I withdrew my applications, and, this week, I watched the deadlines pass by with a smile and great company. I don’t know what’s next for me. I may keep pedaling after a break in San Diego or I may find a spot to settle down in, but what I do know is I feel good about what is on the way.
