THE RADIO SHOW

In this first chapter, we meet our energy management guru KC in his car on his way to do a drive-home radio show with Bill, the show's host. His appearance even lands him a corporate gig!

Kenneth Coghill is 68 years old. He has a PhD in sport psychology. Those are the basic facts. But as is the case with most facts, they don't tell you much about the man himself. The facts don't tell you how KC — as his friends call him — arrived at his current employable state. When individuals, particularly sport psychology graduate students, ask Kenneth what they need to do to get to where he is now, there's no clear formula he can give them. The path he's taken is too windy, unpredictable and organic to use as a template.

Luck and good fortune have played an important role in his life. They have to play a role in order for one to grow up in a northern mining town and end up going to eight Olympic Games, working with more than 70 Olympic medalists, teaching 20 to 25 days a year at a leading business school and making a living by giving speeches on coaching and mental fitness. That's a bare-bones description of Kenneth's professional life. His personal life is an equally meandering tale that will emerge in our story. Let's join that story.

It's four-thirty in the afternoon, and already, rush-hour traffic has taken hold of the city. Kenneth Coghill drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he slowly makes his way toward the radio station. He's scheduled to do a quick guest spot on the five o'clock show as part of the promotion for his latest book on energy management. The radio show is a great opportunity to kick up some publicity for the book — or it would be if he ever gets to the station.

"Why did I agree to do this thing on a busy Tuesday right after a long weekend? This time slot is a nightmare!" KC says to himself, feeling his irritation amplify with each minute he's stuck in this bumper-to-bumper traffic.

KC flicks on his radio. In half an hour, his voice is supposed to be crackling through the speakers, but right now, he hears the sympathetic voice of a traffic reporter who hates being the bearer of bad news.

"It's not looking good for rush-hour commuters," the reporter says. "Delays heading both east and west. And generally slow moving around the city. Good luck out there, folks. Buckle up for a long drive home."

KC doesn't wait to hear any more. He switches the radio off and takes a few deep breaths to try to settle his agitation. "Traffic reports only help if you want to become even more irritated than you already are," he tells himself.

Looking at the road ahead, he sees that he's somehow landed behind a courier van, its four-way flashers blinking as it inches along at a pace so slow it seems to defy reason. KC hasn't been keeping track, but it feels as if this is the fifth courier van he's managed to get behind this afternoon. He swerves the car a little to the left and then a little to the right, hoping to earn a better view of what's ahead. More traffic — that's all he sees.

Somewhere in the pages of his book, he's written about this type of experience — a commute can be irritating in a different way every day. There's a lot of advice in that book that would help him right now. It's too bad the frustration clouding his mind is making it impossible to access any of it. This is not a great mental state to be in for a discussion on how to most effectively manage energy. KC tries to remember his own advice, and he tries to steady his breathing in order to lower his arousal level, but the honk-honk-honk of a car to his left almost immediately interrupts these efforts to calm himself.

"What? Who's honking?" he shouts to no one in particular, an exclamation of pure irritation.

But when he turns to find the source of the honking, instead of a road-raging lunatic with a trigger-happy honking hand, he sees a kindly driver on his left, waving him into her lane with a gentle smile on her face.

It's a small gesture — nothing but good manners, really. However, the act of kindness is enough to erase KC's irritation and bring him back to his senses. He shakes his head at himself. He ought to know better. Getting irritated about things he can't change is a waste of energy. But even an expert on energy management isn't immune to the stresses of downtown traffic.

"A little wake-up call from the universe," KC says with a chuckle.

And just in time too. Right up ahead, he sees the sign for the radio station.

The studio is a beehive of activity. The five o'clock show draws the biggest audience for the station, capitalizing on the throngs of evening commuters who have nothing better to do than fiddle with their radio dials. Amid the bustle in the studio, KC finally spots Bill, the host of the Drive Home Show.

"Heya, Kenneth," Bill calls out with a big smile. If KC had to describe Bill with just one word, that word would be friendly.

Bill weaves around a few hustling people as he crosses a hallway to get to KC.

"Busy today, huh?" KC says.

"Always is," says Bill.

Bill leads them through the winding corridors toward the recording booth. They enter the room just in time to catch a promo for KC's upcoming segment: "Have you wondered how to correct the course of your life? How to develop better parenting skills? How to perform at an Olympic-gold-medal level for years on end? Well, good news. Coming up at the top of the hour, we've got energy management expert Kenneth Coghill joining us in the studio to help you sort out these issues."

"Wow, I'm supposed to do all that in twelve minutes? I must be good," KC jokes.

The studio is a small, modern and technologically up-to-date space. A U-shaped table dominates the room. There's a chair at the head of the table, the host's position, and two chairs along both sides of the U. Each of these spots is equipped with a microphone on a boom that can be used whenever needed. Across from the host's chair sits the board operator, who gives KC a friendly nod, but he doesn't have time to do more than that, because he's absorbed by the several computer screens and the soundboard in front of him. This guy handles all of the technical aspects of the show and keeps everything running on time.

Bill pulls out a chair for KC and then takes his own seat at the head of the table. He slips on his headphones, and a few minutes later, they're on air.

After a quick intro of KC and his background, Bill asks his first question. "So, Kenneth, the book is called Thermostat 247. Let's start with that. Why that title?"

KC chose the title because he thought it concisely summed up his strategy for energy management. "It's a reference to a metaphor I like to use," KC says. "About thinking of yourself as a thermostat as opposed to a thermometer."

"Can you explain that?"

"Sure. A thermometer measures the temperature outside. That's how it operates. It rises and falls based on what's happening around it. But a thermostat sets the temperature of the environment. So be your own thermostat. Set your own energy level."

"I like that. It's easy to get your head around," Bill says.

From there, they delve into some of the ideas in KC's book. One of the first things KC talks about is the difference between energy management and time management. "After all," he says, "you can have all the time in the world, but if you don't have the energy, you won't make it through a single item on the to-do list."

"That's an interesting distinction," Bill says. "I never thought of things that way."

Bill is a seasoned host and interviewer; he and KC quickly fall into an easy on-air banter, and the session flies by. In fact, when the board operator signals them to wrap it up, KC is caught by surprise — he's barely scratched the surface of his book's content.

"Well, our switchboards are lighting up with callers here," Bill says. "But it looks like we've only got time for one or two."

It's a relief to KC to hear that his segment has generated a solid response from listeners. He's confident about his ideas, but he knows they can't work unless people are open to changing the way they operate. A crucial part of his teaching — of any teaching, really — is that the students, whoever they are, must be ready for and receptive to a new way of thinking. KC is reminded of Cynthia Scott, who works in organizational development in California. She was once asked, given the demands on her time, how she chooses her clients. Her response stuck with him. Among other criteria, she always wanted to know if the would-be clients, the CEOs, had had either a heart attack or a grandchild in the last few years, because either of those events tends to open people up to change.

Of course, KC has no way of knowing if the Drive Home Show's listeners have had grandchildren or heart attacks in recent years, but the flood of calls lighting up the board at least suggests an interest in what he's saying. Maybe a long, exhausting day at the office topped off with an almost-as-long drive home reminds energy-depleted listeners that there might be more-effective ways to navigate life. Maybe it reminds them to consider change.

Bill hits a button to broadcast one of the callers. "Hi, Marie from Leaside," he says. "You're on the air."

"Oh, hi," says a soft voice. "What you're saying, Kenneth, really hits home for me."

"I'm glad to hear that, Marie," says KC.

Marie goes on to describe how the constant stresses and pressures of life make her underperform at her job. She's expending most of her energy thinking about the piling pressures she's under. It exhausts her. KC immediately recognizes the choker's profile, a common theme in sports. He's spent 30 years working with Olympic athletes, helping them overcome the sometimes-debilitating pressure of high-profile competition. Choking at the Olympics is one thing, but Marie is describing something else. KC sees in her someone who has been stuck in the choker's profile for a decade or more.

The second caller Bill puts through expresses similar concerns. KC wishes he had more time to dig in deep with these callers, to find specific and personalized ways to help them work their way out of the choker's profile. But before he has time to say more than a few words, Bill is already wrapping up the segment. KC's 12 minutes are up.

After Bill sends the show to a commercial break, he takes a look at the computer screens that track listener response, and he gives KC an encouraging smile. "Wow, we're getting a lot of response here — calls, tweets, e-mails. Great segment."

Although flattered by the attention, KC is disappointed that he didn't have more time to get into some of the particulars, the specific techniques of learning to manage energy and be one's own thermostat.

On the drive home, KC reflects on the day with mixed feelings. By all accounts, it was a successful interview, but still, he wishes he could have done a little more.

Several days later, just as KC returns home from a long morning run, the insistent ringing of his phone greets him. When he answers, he hears the station manager, Roberto Molina, on the line, calling with a proposal: "We got some great feedback from your appearance on the show, Kenneth. We think there's a lot more to mine there. And so we're wondering — would you be interested in joining Bill more regularly? We were thinking of having you do a series of one-hour guest spots. We'd like to do it as a monthly special — one appearance a month for the next five months."

"Wow, uh. Hmm. That's an unexpected offer."

KC thinks about the proposal briefly. He had a great time at the studio, and he loves the idea of doing some more in-depth work, but it would be quite a commitment. Furthermore, KC's used to working with people face-to-face; he likes being able to read their expressions and gauge their reactions. Working with people over the radio would be a different challenge. As a coach, though, he likes new challenges and ways of helping people excel. This format definitely fits the bill. Besides, KC was never one to shy away from new ground. It's the runner in him — "New ground, new energy" is the runner's refrain.

Roberto explains — a bit sheepishly — that there wouldn't be any money in these appearances. "But of course, it would be great exposure for your book."

KC can't argue with that, and he can't say no to a challenge. He's decided. "All right, Roberto. I'm in."

"Great — just great. We'll get in contact in a few days to work out the details. But glad to have you with us."

"Okay, great. Talk to you soon."

KC is about to hang up the phone, when he hears Roberto's voice pick up again: "Oh, oh, wait!"

"Hm?" KC asks.

"One of our major sponsors, Optimal IT, called in after the show. They were looking to get in contact with you."

"Oh yeah? What about?"

"They've been having some personnel trouble over there. To be honest, it sounded to me like they're in a bit of a crisis. They're looking for help — any help. They'd like to bring you in for a consultation. I'll send along their information if you're interested."

KC knows he should take a look at his schedule first to make sure he has time to take on a new client. But he's not always that prudent. He's an optimist, and one of the symptoms of that affliction is the tendency to take on a dozen projects at once, fuelled by the belief that things will somehow work out. "Sure, sure, please do," KC said. Then he adds, "This would be a paying gig after all, right?" "I guess that's true," Roberto says with a defensive laugh. "But we might also look at it as just another example of the power of marketing on radio."

OPTIMAL IT

In this chapter, we discover that KC is a meditator who gets easily distracted. We also meet Karen at Optimal IT, a company having some construction and energy management issues.

Sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor, KC breathes in and out in a focused rhythm. This is how he begins every day — with a half-hour meditation. It's a habit he picked up a decade ago after attending a 10- day total-silence meditation program at Vipassana Meditation Center in Massachusetts. Given KC's extroversion and the fact that he speaks for a living and just likes to talk, his decision to undertake a silent meditation program astounded his closest friends. No one could imagine him sitting quietly for 10 days. He'd never even managed to sit quietly for 10 minutes around a dinner table!

When he returned from the meditation program, he described it to his wife, Wanda, as one of the noisiest things he'd ever done. "When you try to train your mind to focus on a single thing, it's amazing how agitated and noisy it gets," he told her. "The mind constantly wants something new to focus on."

"I'm still just amazed you were able to be quiet for that long. It seems like a miracle!"

"I was only outwardly quietly. Inside, everything was loud."

"Still, I'd take it!" his wife joked.

KC laughed and then continued his reflection on the nature of the mind. "It's funny how, here in Western society, we all think we are our minds," he said. "But let me tell you — anyone who tries to meditate for even five minutes will realize that the mind and the man are very different things."

"Or the mind and the woman," Wanda adds.

"Right, of course."

KC thought then about how insistently the mind always wandered off. One of his favourite quotes came from the Chinese philosopher Lao-tzu, who once said that the mind is like an untrained horse — it runs everywhere.

As he meditates this morning, KC recalls this nugget of truth from Lao-tzu. As much as he tries to stay focused on his breathing, his mind has other plans. It keeps drifting toward a phone conversation he had yesterday with the HR director at Optimal IT, a woman named Karen.

Now, it's not unusual for women to pop up in KC's meditation space. When the mind wants to be distracted and entertained, attractive images often become the focal point of the mind's cravings. But a yearning for attractive images isn't what sets his mind wandering today. This morning, the cause of his drifting attention is another favourite distractor in meditation practice: the desire to analyze.

During his brief conversation with Karen, she invited him to come in today to discuss the many problems plaguing Optimal IT. She didn't give him much in the way of details, so KC's mind has been busy imagining a dozen different possible scenarios in play at Optimal IT, and already, he's mentally preparing his approach to this new client. When he realizes his mind has slipped away from his breathing, he does his best to redirect his attention to the point where the air enters and leaves his nostrils. Without judgment, he brings his concentration back to his breath.

His meditation teacher, S. N. Goenka, referred to this nonjudgmental approach as being equonomous. In meditation practice, you try not to wrestle with all of the thoughts that crop up. Instead, you patiently direct your mind to what you've decided to focus on. For KC, this focus is his breath, his nostrils. In and out. In and out. In and out.

Soon the gong of a meditation bell sounds from his iPhone timer, telling him his 30 minutes are up. It's time to get on with the day.