The first time I saw my favourite film, About Time, I was astonished by my public display of raw emotion. Eyes pooling with tears, I bit my lip. I studied the buttered popcorn on my lap. I closed my eyes and tried without success to steady my breathing. And then, without warning, I startled myself and an entire row of strangers with a muffled sob so intense, it couldn’t be contained.
My heart is easily moved by themes embracing love and fear, and I have a particular fascination with time and timing. So, imagine with me, the endorphins that flooded my body while talking with my remarkable neighbour, Steve Hummel, who said a few minutes into our meaningful conversation, “Time is the one resource that once you spend it, you can’t get back”. Yes, he had me at: “Hello, let’s talk about the finite resource of time and how if we’re not growing, we’re slowly dying.”
Knocking out his two front teeth at 12-years-old racing motocross, I suspect Steve knew even then, that the only race you can’t win, is against time: every other competitor being fair game. Internally driven and reciting a mantra of, “second place, is the first loser”, I picture him rising bloody with a toothless grin, committing right there and then to ride the absolute hell out of the life ahead of him.
At sixteen, he began his fascination with racing cars, curiosity for electrical engineering, and insatiable commitment to lifelong learning. He earned a B.A.Sc. (Electrical Engineering) from the University of Waterloo. A M.B.A. (General Management) from Wilfrid Laurier University. A M.Sc. (Research) from the University of Nice. A D.B.A (Strategy) from the International University of Monaco and a Ph.D. (Strategy) from the University of Nice. In case you missed that, he challenged himself to earn a double Ph.D. in another country, in another language, as an exercise in expansion. He continues to enrol annually in courses at Harvard, USC, and MIT. He was a founding member of the Bachelor of International Business degree program at Conestoga College, a full-time faculty member of W.L.U. and U of W, and a faculty member at State University of Baden-Württemberg, Stuttgart, Germany.
Roar your engine.
Tear it up.
Cross the finish line winded and spent, entirely satisfied. Or better yet, awestruck, having lived each day deliberately, as though it were the “full, final day, of your extraordinary, ordinary life”.
Choosing to enter the field of academia took place in his early 50s, after multiple careers in the corporate world as a Wall Street turnaround leader, industrial spy, tech entrepreneur, venture capitalist, and Canadian GT-1 racing champion.
I’ve learned if you’re looking to win a race with three laps or more and save your car, Steve’s your driver. He’s consistent and conservative, and he knows how to endure both on the racetrack and in life. He knows how to wait, intimate with time, counting each grain of stand as it drops, refusing to push his tires and brakes until they’re hot, and ready, for effective action.
But Steve doesn’t just race or win for himself. He prefers to share the road, inviting others on his journey to drive alongside him, building teams on a foundation of trust. He has a deep appreciation for those who “win” with their integrity intact, course correct when they’ve taken a wrong exit, and share their “spare parts” on and off the racetrack.
Trust is at the epicentre of the treasured relationship he shares with his wife Delia, his children Kate and Tom, and his grandchildren Sophie and Ewan. Wistful and full of gratitude, he shares the twist of fate moment that Kate sprang into action trusting the CPR skills she had just learned through her babysitting course. She kept him alive until paramedics arrived the night he randomly suffered a tonic clonic seizure. In the hospital the next day, newly diagnosed with epilepsy, she told Delia he needed to leave Wall Street. The job was no longer satisfying or congruent with his core values. Minutes later he got a phone call offering him a full-time teaching position at WLU.
Our lives are a ticking clock. So, what if we all lived like race car drivers? Refusing to nod off lap after lap, instead, hyperaware to both the smooth meandering roads and the inevitable bumps and crashes along the way. What if we relished the swing from the mundane to sensory overload, knowing every moment of every hour of every day, is a gift, not a given, exquisitely perfect in its imperfection.
Roar your engine.
Tear it up.
Cross the finish line winded and spent, entirely satisfied. Or better yet, awestruck, having lived each day deliberately, as though it were the “full, final day, of your extraordinary, ordinary life”.
The first time I saw my favourite film, About Time, I was astonished by my public display of raw emotion. Eyes pooling with tears, I bit my lip. I studied the buttered popcorn on my lap. I closed my eyes and tried without success to steady my breathing. And then, without warning, I startled myself and an entire row of strangers with a muffled sob so intense, it couldn’t be contained.
My heart is easily moved by themes embracing love and fear, and I have a particular fascination with time and timing. So, imagine with me, the endorphins that flooded my body while talking with my remarkable neighbour, Steve Hummel, who said a few minutes into our meaningful conversation, “Time is the one resource that once you spend it, you can’t get back”. Yes, he had me at: “Hello, let’s talk about the finite resource of time and how if we’re not growing, we’re slowly dying.”
Knocking out his two front teeth at 12-years-old racing motocross, I suspect Steve knew even then, that the only race you can’t win, is against time: every other competitor being fair game. Internally driven and reciting a mantra of, “second place, is the first loser”, I picture him rising bloody with a toothless grin, committing right there and then to ride the absolute hell out of the life ahead of him.
At sixteen, he began his fascination with racing cars, curiosity for electrical engineering, and insatiable commitment to lifelong learning. He earned a B.A.Sc. (Electrical Engineering) from the University of Waterloo. A M.B.A. (General Management) from Wilfrid Laurier University. A M.Sc. (Research) from the University of Nice. A D.B.A (Strategy) from the International University of Monaco and a Ph.D. (Strategy) from the University of Nice. In case you missed that, he challenged himself to earn a double Ph.D. in another country, in another language, as an exercise in expansion. He continues to enrol annually in courses at Harvard, USC, and MIT. He was a founding member of the Bachelor of International Business degree program at Conestoga College, a full-time faculty member of W.L.U. and U of W, and a faculty member at State University of Baden-Württemberg, Stuttgart, Germany.
Roar your engine.
Tear it up.
Cross the finish line winded and spent, entirely satisfied. Or better yet, awestruck, having lived each day deliberately, as though it were the “full, final day, of your extraordinary, ordinary life”.
Choosing to enter the field of academia took place in his early 50s, after multiple careers in the corporate world as a Wall Street turnaround leader, industrial spy, tech entrepreneur, venture capitalist, and Canadian GT-1 racing champion.
I’ve learned if you’re looking to win a race with three laps or more and save your car, Steve’s your driver. He’s consistent and conservative, and he knows how to endure both on the racetrack and in life. He knows how to wait, intimate with time, counting each grain of stand as it drops, refusing to push his tires and brakes until they’re hot, and ready, for effective action.
But Steve doesn’t just race or win for himself. He prefers to share the road, inviting others on his journey to drive alongside him, building teams on a foundation of trust. He has a deep appreciation for those who “win” with their integrity intact, course correct when they’ve taken a wrong exit, and share their “spare parts” on and off the racetrack.
Trust is at the epicentre of the treasured relationship he shares with his wife Delia, his children Kate and Tom, and his grandchildren Sophie and Ewan. Wistful and full of gratitude, he shares the twist of fate moment that Kate sprang into action trusting the CPR skills she had just learned through her babysitting course. She kept him alive until paramedics arrived the night he randomly suffered a tonic clonic seizure. In the hospital the next day, newly diagnosed with epilepsy, she told Delia he needed to leave Wall Street. The job was no longer satisfying or congruent with his core values. Minutes later he got a phone call offering him a full-time teaching position at WLU.
Our lives are a ticking clock. So, what if we all lived like race car drivers? Refusing to nod off lap after lap, instead, hyperaware to both the smooth meandering roads and the inevitable bumps and crashes along the way. What if we relished the swing from the mundane to sensory overload, knowing every moment of every hour of every day, is a gift, not a given, exquisitely perfect in its imperfection.
Roar your engine.
Tear it up.
Cross the finish line winded and spent, entirely satisfied. Or better yet, awestruck, having lived each day deliberately, as though it were the “full, final day, of your extraordinary, ordinary life”.