Part 1: 'Make new friends, even if you're bad at it' — how to break the cycle of sameness.

I've neglected community most of my adult life. But that's changing, and science suggests there are real cognitive & longevity benefits.

Warmup

We met Friday outside the hotel lobby shortly before 6 am, the sun just warming the ridges of the Colorado Rocky Mountains.

An unlikely pack of three, we were:

• Chris, the FAA’s vice president for mission support within its Air Traffic organization. Yep, he’s had a pretty intense job recently.

• Santiago, a thoughtful, intense senior vice president of finance and risk at a Brazilian fin tech company.

• Me, a 53-year-old author and media executive — and a late-comer to athletics who was nervous about keeping up with these younger, very fit men.

Four days earlier, we’d have passed each other in an airport without a second glance, strangers in a world of 8.2 billion people.

Soon we’d be running through narrow single track trail, sharing intimate stories of our least proud moments (one of us once broke our hand punching something hard while intoxicated) and our finest (another of us was trying to run the world’s major marathons).

Putting in the miles was good for us, sure. Equally beneficial were the cognitive connections getting forged through high-altitude breathing and trust.

We talked about empathy. Surgeries. Tempering too-high expectations for children. Fears about our shortcomings as leaders.

When is the last time you met someone new and let them know, really know, a part of you?

Post

Let’s start with a fact: Community is good for longevity.

It ranks right up there with exercise, eating well and stress reduction, and this is true across age groups. Studies (I’ll list a few at the end) show it lowers the risk of:

• Cognitive impairment

• Dementia

• Early mortality

And it turns out that doing things together by engaging in tangible in-person activities (such as that early morning run) is foundational.

Which is to say that online community building is certainly good.

But being together in person is likely much better.

This means putting yourself in situations where these connections can be made:

• A classroom

• A pilates studio

• A running group

• A bocce group in a retirement community

• A community board

• Your local firehouse

The power of tribes

Despite writing a book about the power of community, with a few exceptions, I’ve historically been pretty lax at maintaining a network of deep connections.

In fact, I’ve long envied my spouse’s large but tight matrix of childhood and college friends. They possess a shared history carrying more weight than their differences when it comes to careers, family structure and political beliefs.

Notably, they also still gather physically whenever possible, reentering the slipstream of familiarity with an ease born of for-better-or-worse loyalty.

On the other hand, I can count on less than half a hand the number of people I’m very close to from 30 years+ back. (Try two fingers.)

There are reasons, not excuses, the last one probably being the most relevant. Maybe some are familiar to you.

An only child, I’m deeply comfortable being alone — an “extroverted introvert” according to the myriad of personality tests my employers have dispensed.

Work has consumed a disproportionate share of my estimated 4,000 weeks on this earth. (See Oliver Burkeman’s provocative book for more on this number.)

Community takes time. I’ve (wrongly) always felt there’s not enough to warrant the investment.

I’ve been caught in a cycle of sameness with my routines, habits, and reliance on my few close friendships. (Hence, the new subtitle for the paperback version of my book Not Too Late.)

Only now, more than half a century after emerging from the womb, have I discovered a passion that transcends all other traits and opens the door for new relationships wherever I go.

Because of the last reason, I’m starting to get a little better at this community thing.

My passion (yours certainly may be different) is competitive athletics, specifically a sport called Spartan obstacle course racing.

The journey from unathletic office executive to race competitor now regularly puts me in direct physical contact with groups of humans with whom I feel a shared sense of belonging.

Our history may not be decades-long but the connections are real and also transcend our differences.

Take this past week. I attended a course at the Center for Creative Leadership in Colorado Springs, and that’s where I met Santiago and Chris. Eight years ago, I would NEVER have considered joining them for an early morning run.

Now, here we are…

Santiago, Wendy & Chris on the trail @ 630 am.

And then, there was Vegas.

Last year, I flew to the Nevada desert to see what author Michael Easter’s Don’t Die retreat was all about. (I HIGHLY recommend it for anyone interested in, well, not dying.)

Over the course of a weekend, I met two dozen determined yet very different people, four of whom —Michael included — I stay in regular touch with and sometimes see in person despite living in different states. We are bound by a common denominator of physical challenge, health & wellness and Michael’s online 2% community.

Part of the April 2024 Don’t Die cohort learning gun safety at a shooting range.

Technology makes our continued connection more frequent and seamless.

But having made the initial effort to engage in a physical encounter is what keeps this community durable.

A web of human connection

Not all of my communities are routed in the physical realm. I taught a course at the Modern Elder Academy in Santa Fe this spring, and the students (my age) graciously invited me into their WhatsApp group when the program ended.

Each of us is pursing a bold pivot in midlife, and we are bound by a common desire to not let age or that “cycle of sameness” thwart our goals. We call our group LFG! (Google it, Mom.)

Though none of them are obstacle course racers, when I struggled terribly a week ago during a mountainous 21K Spartan Race in Utah, these were the people I felt most accountable to — and a large reason why I ultimately crossed the finish line in third place.

Participants in the Modern Elder Academy “LFG” cohort in April.

Sometimes, encounters with “new friends” are fleeting. And yet they spin another line of strong silk of the community web.

For instance, wherever I am in the world, if I’m wearing a Spartan shirt or hat, inevitably someone stops me.

• The 20-something kid working poolside at the hotel in Colorado Springs; he saw my tee-shirt and wanted tips on the best race courses. I gave him my favorites — and a free code to race.

• The Delta Airlines flight attendant. “Ma’am (he called me ma’am), have you done one of those races?” he asked pointing at my sweatshirt logo last weekend. Just finished #57, I told him. His eyes bulged. He wanted to try one but was working through back pain. “You’ve got my name,” I replied. “When you’re ready to train, look me up and we’ll talk.” I hope he will.

• The pack of hikers climbing Bear Mountain near home that I encountered with my new Spartan friend Kevin Donohue, who has notched 271 races (uh-huh) and answers my questions about his strong faith in Jesus while we train. Those hikers all sported Spartan shirts and we bumped fists in a sweaty moment of understanding before descending our climb.

Connection. It’s just another muscle to train.

And like most things when it comes to healthspan and longevity, it’s not too late.

Cooldown

My trip last week put me in the humbling company of nine great leaders from around the world.

We didn’t know each other on Monday.

By Friday, when we read aloud the promises we’d handwritten on paper about our recalibrations around leadership for work, family, self and community, we choked up midway through.

Yep, even the dudes, including one who works in the Army.

Trust with a group people you respect will do that. Ahmad, Conrad, Chris, Pete, Ben, Santiago, Jen and Nuno — I’ll keep in touch.

Center for Creative Leadership full cohort in Colorado Springs last week.

Thanks for reading. As always, find something you love. Dig in. Stick with it when things get hard. And be open to making new friends, even if you’re bad at it.

Wendy

Sources:

1. “Contribution of social and lifestyle factors to cognitive status and 5-year change among middle-aged and older Americans.” (Link)

2. “Social connections as determinants of cognitive health and as targets for social interventions in persons with or at risk of Alzheimer’s disease and related disorders: a scoping review.” (Link)

3. “Social Connections Combat Dementia and Prolong Lifespan.” (Link)