bravery

Leader Failing Forward

February 15, 2026 by Dave Urso Leave a Comment

During my sophomore year at JMU, I decided I wanted to be the Duke Dog. To be fair, the intense passion to be the Duke Dog ran for about a two week window between when I saw a flyer announcing auditions for the role and the day of the audition. I arrived at the audition location and lined up with several hundred other students. The line was moving quickly as students would enter into a changing room, put on the Duke Dog outfit, and then proceed into another room and entertain the gathered decision makers.

My turn came and I enthusiastically suited up and went into Duke Dog mode. I was excited. I was enthusiastic. I was ready. I jogged into the audition space and I stood there. And I waited. There were all sorts of props on a table in front of me. I didn’t pick up or interact with a single one. I stood there. And I waited. One of the members of the panel cheered, “Wave to the crowd!” So I waved. And I put my hand back by my side. And I stood there. And I waited. Another panel member coached me, “Grab that broom and show us what you’ve got!” So I grabbed the broom from in front of me and I held it.

Did I point to the hypothetical opponent, pretend to stomp on them, and sweep them away? Nope.

Did I flip the broom sideways and play it like an air guitar? Nope.

Did I hold the broom over my head rooting for a sweep and stirring the crowd into a frenzy? Nope.

I stood there. And I held the broom.

One of the panel members jumped in, thanked me for coming to the audition, and sent me back to change so they could meet the next candidate.

I did not get to be Duke Dog.

person standing on top of rock — Photo by Suliman Sallehi on Pexels.com

The Dayton Muddler is a local event designed to both raise money for charity and build a sense of community among friends and neighbors. It’s a mud run, filled with obstacles to test your physical and mental abilities as you push yourself and your teammates to their limit.

Years ago, I was contacted by the event organizer who shared with me that they needed a motivational speaker to hang out at the start line for the race and hype up participants as they were waiting. I was excited for the opportunity. I was starting to gain some momentum in the motivational speaker space and knew this would be a great chance to expand my base.

I spent some time researching the Muddler event itself and the charity that the proceeds would support. I planned out carefully the key points race participants should be thinking about that would be both motivational and reflective as they got started.

At no point did I look into what a start line “hype speech” is supposed to be. (As a frame of reference, here’s Dustin Dorough’s.)

So, I got to the Muddler, got to the start line, and got the microphone. I shared a five minute monologue about why pushing yourself matters, why this specific charity was so impactful, and what it meant to lead a life of purpose. The 50 people cued up for the first heat were kind and respectful, while also looking at me with eyes that said, “Can you please be done so we can go do this thing?” I wrapped up and off they went.

I wasn’t invited back to be the hype guy for the event again. In fact, I was replaced before the third heat of participants hit the starting line about 45 minutes later.

man in jump on mountain peak at dawn — Photo by Stephen Leonardi on Pexels.com

Since 2013, Valley Business Keynote has served as a cornerstone event in business networking, growth, and innovation across the Shenandoah Valley. VBK’s mission is to help fulfill potential and is impressive for all the right reasons.

In 2018, I was invited to be an event speaker. I was gifted the opening slot and charged with warming the crowd up ahead of Kim Scott’s presentation on Radical Candor. I worked with the committee in the lead up to the event and we settled on a delivery for me focused on the concept of being a catalyst for change.

I spent several months thinking about my message, tweaking the content, seeking input from friends and mentors, refining the content, and preparing to deliver. I focused on the diverse personal stories, skill sets, and professional journeys that would be in the room. I considered my comments with the intentionality and hope that something would connect with each of them.

The event day came and I was excited. This was my chance. I had always wanted to give a TED talk, and this was as close as I expected to get. I was pumped. I was waiting backstage and just casually chatting with Kim Scott and the event host and I could feel the adrenaline starting to really take off. It was go time.

I savored my time on stage and delivered the message I had prepared. I enjoyed my time with the audience and I believe it showed.

Afterward, I could tell that the team who had vouched for me was a bit disappointed with my comments. Their reaction was positive but I could tell it was coated in a bit of let down. We had a formal debrief a few days later and my primary takeaway from the conversation was that I had delivered a positive and important message. It lacked the direction and impact they were seeking, but it was overall just a little bit off.

Between us, and myself included, we couldn’t determine what exactly was off, and why what I presented didn’t align with expectations. When asked the direct question, “How could it have been better?” no one in the room or engaged in the follow up conversations afterward could provide a direct answer.

In each of these cases – being the Duke Dog, being the start line hype guy, and being the opening speaker – something went sideways and I failed to deliver what was expected. When that happens, it’s so easy to take it to heart, sit in the distress, and fret over the perceived failure.

However, with some mental distance from the events, I have a much better understanding about what happened and how much learning took place and value was added to my life as a result of each event.

While I didn’t get to be Duke Dog in front of a packed stadium, I did get a chance to reflect and grow on what it means to interact and feed energy into a large audience. I wasn’t a great hype guy, but being in the race space got me energized about fitness again and started a health journey that continues to keep me motivated today. Not only was I a participant in the Muddler over the next few years, but I’ve done countless other similar events and now even drag my family along as participants, too. And while I didn’t deliver exactly what was needed to the VBK crowd, the experience made me even more intentional about the work I’m doing in the motivational speaking space and the questions I ask to make sure we’re each well positioned to exceed expectations.

Again, it’s so easy to flip the mindset to simply saying no to asks that challenges your boundaries just a bit. Yet something is lost when that choice becomes a pattern. Having a team of leaders who continue to say yes – even when it’s hard, even when it’s gone sideways on us before, even when we don’t feel like it – is a distinguishing factor in our ability to build the community of tomorrow we are seeking.

Having a team of leaders who continue to say yes – even when it’s hard, even when it’s gone sideways on us before, even when we don’t feel like it – is a distinguishing factor in our ability to build the community of tomorrow we are seeking.

Leader as Fearless?

January 28, 2026 by Dave Urso Leave a Comment

If we continue to operate in the ways we always have, we’ll continue to generate the same results. If we want to create a better tomorrow for ourselves, our families, our organizations, and our communities, we have to be willing to disrupt our routines.

This disruption might be focused on small items, resulting in minor tweaks to standard practices. Or the disruption might be focused on major overhauls, looking at system-level changes that help us pivot from where we are to where we wish to be. But the disruption will be the result of leaders intentionally challenging established patterns of thinking and working.

Often, leaders who facilitate growth of this kind are labeled as “fearless.” A fearless leader is just that – a leader without fear. A leader who develops a bold vision for the team and fights for that outcome at all costs. These leaders are aware that there will be collateral damage as a result of their decisions, but they persist anyway, rationalizing that this damage is an acceptable price to pay.

While fearlessness has its place, most leaders are better served by developing their bravery instead. Whereas fearlessness is the absence of fear, bravery is acknowledging the fear and moving forward anyway. Being brave is about embracing grit and determination. But above all else, being brave is about having courage. Courage to say what needs to be said, to do what needs to be done, or to stand alone as an outsider.

Sometimes courage is about saying what needs to be said. While listening to the conversation during the meeting, or watching the e-mail thread unfold, a sense of unease sets in with the realization that something is wrong – groupthink has taken hold, key facts are being ignored, a perspective isn’t being considered – and the choice to speak up or shrink back must be made. In that moment, courage is about challenging the groupthink, reintroducing those key facts, or voicing the missing perspective. Choosing the option to speak is not easy. But it matters.

I’ve personally experienced the tension of being the lone dissenting vote on multiple important decisions over the years. I can vividly recall the feeling in the pit of my stomach as votes were called for and the outcomes declared (“20 votes for, 1 against” and “18 votes for, 1 against”). In each case, I knew I was the sole voice speaking against what was happening. Yet, rather than sit silently and allow the already decided vote to simply play out, I spoke up and shared why I felt these decisions were wrong and in no way in the best long-term interest of the team.

I don’t mind when a decision doesn’t go my way. I understand that thousands of decisions are made every month that impact me and the teams with whom I work. So I tend not to overreact to any given decision. I share this story because in each of these cases (and in so many similar organizational conversations that don’t end with votes but do shape the path forward) I am consistently surprised by what I experience after. It amazes me how many comments I receive in the hallway after the meeting, or by e-mail or text later in the day or week, thanking me for voicing my perspective in the moment and sharing the individual agrees with my stance.

While I am thankful for the validation of my thinking, I also find myself wondering whether a decision by this individual to agree with me publicly in the meeting might have changed the outcome. If a second voice had joined mine, would a third have felt more comfortable? Would a third voice then have chimed in? How many individuals at the table had feelings they elected not to share? And what are the consequences associated with those decisions?

Sometimes courage is about doing what needs to be done. Imagine a scenario in which you need to speak with a team member about their performance. He or she is not contributing at the level they are expected to be and you need to have a conversation about accountability. It will be a difficult conversation. In contrast to the fearless leader’s “consequences be damned” approach to the dialogue, the brave leader embraces empathy as the foundation of a constructive discussion about how to best move forward. Being brave means accepting the responsibility of delivering bad news, acknowledging that you might upset someone, and understanding that you may get yelled, but acting anyway. Ignoring reality does not change it.

Consistently demonstrating courage takes practice. There are no short cuts – no courage vitamins or booster shots to speed up the process. Rather, bravery is about listening to our instincts and acting with courage each time the opportunity to do so presents itself.

One thing that helps me choose courage in the moments I need it is a reminder a mentor shared with me a few years ago. The comment was “It’s critical that you are defined by something other than your job. Our jobs matter…but our value is so much more than that.” This simple statement is a constant reminder for me that my leadership legacy will be defined by my decisions in those moments that offer courage. Given the opportunity to stand up or shrink back, I hope that my children and the others I hold close will choose to be brave, because that’s what they saw me model all along.

Takeaway

Consistently demonstrating courage takes practice. There are no short cuts – no courage vitamins or booster shots to speed up the process.