Confessions of a Course Addict: Breaking the 'Just One More' Cycle

Solopreneur Letters #9

Backpack strapped tight, lungs burning, I followed my Sherpa up the switchbacks toward Gokyo Ri.

At 5,000 plus meters, I couldn't see the summit.

I couldn't see past the next turn.

Fog.

Clouds.

My vision cut to maybe twenty feet ahead.

But my guide knew the way.

One step.

Then another.

For hours.

Thousands of steps I couldn't plan or predict, following someone who'd made this climb hundreds of times.

When we finally reached the top, the view across the Himalayas took what little breath I had left.

Standing there, I couldn't believe I'd actually done it.

I had a 360 degree view of Mt. Everest and 4 other 8,000m peaks.

I made not because I'd mapped every step of the route, but because I'd trusted one guide and kept moving forward into the fog.

That mountain taught me something I wish I'd remembered when I started my business.

Mt Everest from the Top of Gokyo Ri

The Course Collection Problem

Right now, I'm sitting here about to sign up for another workshop.

Again.

Because I feel like I don't have clarity about what I need to do next.

The irony isn't lost on me.

Five years ago I took the One Funnel Away Challenge.

That program taught me enough to build funnels, set up email sequences, create landing pages.

Everything I needed to start making money.

And I have made money.

Just not at the level I expected.

So what did I do wrong?

I didn’t just do it.

I thought, I just needed to learn a bit more first.

Then a bit more.

Then a bit more.

Before long, I was just collecting courses and coaching programs.

Spending money I didn’t have to get more stuck in analysis paralysis.

One guru says Facebook groups. Another swears by Facebook ads.

This one says YouTube ads. That one says organic content.

The next one has a completely different approach.

Pretty soon you're drowning in contradictory advice, paralyzed by all the different paths up the mountain.

The Guide

Here's what I should have done from day one: found two or three people max who were building the kind of business I wanted.

Not ten different gurus with ten different methods.

Two or three with similar enough approaches that I could get nuance without overload.

Pick my Sherpa.

Follow the route.

Stop looking at every other climber and wondering if their path is faster.

Because when you're actually climbing, switching paths doesn't save time.

It costs time.

You lose your momentum, your rhythm, your progress.

You end up starting over at the bottom of a different mountain.

Learning Over Doing

The real issue isn't that I needed more courses.

It's that I didn't do what the first course taught me.

I let self-doubt creep in.

Perfectionism.

Fear of putting imperfect work in front of real people.

Nearly every business course that actually gets results starts with mindset work.

Not because mindset is some woo-woo nonsense, but because you have to believe you can get a result even when every bone in your body is screaming self-doubt.

You have to ship bad work instead of perfecting good ideas in your head.

You have to make offers to real people and find out what they actually need instead of assuming you know.

Nothing replaces that.

No amount of course consumption can substitute for putting yourself out there and seeing what happens.

The Fog Is Normal

On those Nepal treks, I couldn't see the summit most of the time.

The path disappeared around corners.

My legs ached.

My lungs burned.

The temptation to stop, to doubt, to wonder if I had what it took to make it to the top was constant.

But the Sherpa knew.

And if I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, following his lead, thousands of steps would eventually get me to the top.

Business feels the same way.

You can't see the whole route.

Results aren't immediate.

Everything takes longer and requires more effort than you expect.

The temptation to switch strategies, to find a "faster" path, never goes away.

But at some point, you have to start climbing.

And the ache in your legs doesn't stop.

The burn in your lungs doesn't ease up.

You push through and focus on one question: What's the next step I can take?

As you go, the path becomes clearer.

Not because you've collected more information, but because you're actually moving.

What I'd Do Differently

If I could start over, here's what I'd tell myself:

Take one good course. Do everything it teaches. Ship the work, even if it's imperfect. Make real offers to real people. Get real feedback from the real world.

Only then, if you need nuance or specific help with specific problems you've actually encountered, find one or two other people solving similar problems in similar ways.

Stop collecting.

Start doing.

The mountain doesn't care how many routes you've studied.

It only responds to the steps you actually take.

And right now, I'm reminding myself of this as I fight the urge to sign up for that workshop.

Not because it won’t be useful, but because I already know enough to take the next step.

I just need to put one foot in front of the other.

And keep moving up.

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This is Letter #9 of 'Solopreneur Letters' – a series I’m writing where I share the hard-earned wisdom I wish I’d had when I started on my solopreneur journey. See the full list: