Road America finally gave the No. 46 car the result it had been working toward all season. The No. 64 had a more difficult afternoon. We arrived at Road America encouraged by the progress we had made with both cars. The handling was improving, the setups were beginning to transfer more effectively between the 46 and the 64, and for the first time this year, we felt like we were developing a clearer direction across the team.

Heading into Canadian Tire Motorsport Park (CTMP), we knew we had work to do. The setup wasn't exactly where we wanted it to be when the weekend began, but by qualifying we felt like we had made meaningful progress, particularly with the No. 46 Ford Mustang. The No. 64, however, was facing a very different challenge after losing nearly an entire practice session to mechanical issues.

Agreement feels good. It makes meetings shorter. Decisions move faster. Nobody leaves the room irritated. If you are the person in charge, a team that agrees with you can make you feel pretty smart. That should probably make you nervous. I have spent enough time in business, healthcare research, and racing to know that disagreement is often where the useful work starts.

We went into Watkins Glen feeling optimistic. Team TGM had tested at Watkins Glen a few weeks earlier, so we arrived with recent experience and a reasonable sense of what we thought the cars would need. Testing is valuable because it gives you time to work through setups, gather data, and arrive at race weekend with fewer unknowns. At least, that is the idea.

When people look at race results, they usually see the finishing position. What they do not see are the dozens of decisions, adjustments, setbacks, and variables that shape those results long before the checkered flag falls. That was certainly true for Team TGM at Mid-Ohio. We arrived with high expectations for both cars after a productive test session the week before. We believed we had a strong handle on the setup and felt prepared for the weekend ahead.

Racing has a way of humbling you quickly. You can spend weeks preparing, reviewing data, refining setup, and building strategy, only for a race weekend to go sideways in a matter of laps. That’s part of the sport. And honestly, it’s part of what keeps people coming back. Our recent weekend at WeatherTech Raceway Laguna Seca was a perfect example of how unpredictable racing can be. One car had an outstanding race. The other barely had a chance to race at all.

When a race ends, most people focus on the result. Where you finished.Who won.What went wrong or right. But in racing, the real work starts after the checkered flag. Because the result tells you what happened. Data tells you why

The race almost ended before it started. There was a 10-car pileup before we even got going. In this series, that’s not something you expect to see. Cars were checking up. The field compressed quickly. There was nowhere to go, and everything happened at once. In moments like that, you don’t have time to think through options. You react.

There’s a psychological reason busyness is so appealing. Responding to messages, attending meetings, and resolving immediate issues creates the sense that work is getting done. These activities are visible and measurable. They create the appearance of momentum. But they often focus on short-term inputs rather than long-term outcomes. Many leaders find themselves spending entire days reacting rather than directing. The schedule fills itself with operational issues, leavi

People see the speed. They see the pass in Turn 1. They see the podium photo. They see the lap time. What they don’t see is the mental preparation in motorsport that makes any of it possible. In racing, the margin for error is measured in inches and milliseconds. You are operating at high speed, surrounded by competitors who are equally skilled, equally aggressive, and equally committed to winning. Physical preparation matters. Engineering matters. Strategy matters.

There’s a phrase I’ve heard hundreds of times over the years: “Let me think about it.” In some cases, it’s justified. But more often, it’s a stalling tactic. A way to avoid risk. A cover for not wanting to be wrong. And in leadership, indecision is a decision. It just tends to be the most expensive one.

Things started off looking strong for the Team TGM lineup at Daytona. The #46 qualified P4, and the #64 rolled off from P33. From the outset, both cars showed they were ready to compete.

Racing looks like adrenaline. But it runs on calculation. You’re balancing tire wear, fuel strategy, competitor behavior, weather shifts, traffic, and more, all in real time. And you can’t afford to guess. One bad call costs you the race. One smart call can flip the entire outcome.

There’s a myth in leadership that experience automatically makes you better. But I’ve learned, on the racetrack, in health policy, and in research funding, that experience without adaptability is just a heavier anchor. The world changes. Fast. And if you’re clinging to “what used to work,” you’re not leading. You’re coasting.

There’s a common trap leaders fall into: They assume because they’ve seen something before, they know exactly how to handle it now. I’ve seen this play out in racing. I’ve seen it in healthcare policy meetings. I’ve seen it in boardrooms. And I’ve learned that past experience can mislead you if you treat it like gospel.

This weekend marked the final race of our season: Road Atlanta. And I’ll be honest… We knew all we had to do was start the race to win the Bronze Cup Championship. But that’s never been how we operate. We came to compete.

If you want to slow progress down, wrap it in red tape. That’s the reality for far too much medical research in this country. Scientists with bold ideas spend more time formatting grant proposals than actually running experiments. And when the funding does come through, it’s often a year too late, tied up in approval cycles, institutional requirements, and layers of administrative overhead. The worst part? Some of the most promising ideas never even get submitted. They’re too

Everyone seems to be chasing work-life balance. It’s become one of those phrases people throw around in performance reviews, wellness programs, and leadership retreats. The idea sounds great: work hard, but not too hard. Make time for family, fitness, and fun. Keep everything “in check.” But here’s the problem:

The IMSA Michelin Pilot Challenge rolled into Indianapolis Motor Speedway this past weekend for the 2025 Battle on the Bricks, and Team TGM showed up ready to compete!

In racing, not every weekend brings drama. But sometimes, that’s exactly what you want. At Virginia International Raceway (VIR), both Team TGM cars showed up ready. No chaos, no carnage; just smart strategy, focused execution, and steady results that paid off in the long game.