Ideas to...Inaction

From financial models to unfinished plans — what kept me from building

Photo by Jo Szczepanska on Unsplash

After Broposals, even though we weren’t successful in turning it into a profitable venture, it lit a fire in me.

I was excited.

Every day felt like a new opportunity. A new problem I wanted to fix. A business idea waiting to happen. I got hooked on that feeling. That adrenaline rush of starting something. It was like a drug.

And that… was the problem.

I was so obsessed with chasing that high, the excitement of the idea stage, that I never slowed down long enough to build anything real. I’d get a spark of inspiration, pitch it to my wife or my friends, and feel the dopamine hit when they said, “That’s actually a great idea.”

But that’s all they ever were.

Thoughts.
Ideas.

They never made it past the whiteboard or voice memo.

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The first time I remember feeling that rush was when we got our first client, my personal trainer, Mike.

We had just wrapped up a discovery call to talk through what he envisioned for a fitness-themed gift box for his groomsmen, and afterward, we hit the ground running. We stayed up until two or three in the morning mapping out all the things we thought could work and why. Protein samples, customized shaker bottles and gym towels, motivational wristbands…we were on a roll.

That brainstorm snowballed into other themed boxes we could create. Outdoors. Military. Gamer. James Bond.

And instead of focusing on fulfilling that first box (for our first actual client) we drifted into planning five themed sets.

We mistook motion for action.

Looking back, that moment wasn’t unique. It was the start of a pattern.

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I can’t even count how many “next big ideas” I have run through over the years.

Each one started with that same spark. The excitement. The flood of possibilities. I’d start mapping things out in my head. Sometimes I’d throw together a name and logo. Sometimes I’d buy the domain. Sometimes I’d even start a pitch deck or basic landing page.

But the moment things got difficult, the moment the buzz wore off, I’d quietly move on.

I was planting seeds, then walking away before anything could take root.

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One thing I’ve always been drawn to is the numbers. I love building out financial models.

Forecasting revenue.

Calculating breakeven points

Playing with scenarios.

That part came easy to me. It made me feel productive. In control.

What was harder?

The rest of the plan. Actually defining the target customer. Summarizing market research. Writing down a real marketing strategy. Creating a go-to-market roadmap.

I’d spend hours building an awesome looking, fully dynamic financial model, loaded with startup costs and unit economics and tabs for scenario analysis. And then I’d stare at a blank page where the operational plan should be, unsure of how to turn the vision in my head into something real.

Once I hit that wall, the excitement would fade.

And the idea? It would quietly join the archive.

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I was more in love with the idea of being an entrepreneur than the actual work of it. I pictured the success, the freedom, the recognition, but not the grind it takes to get there.

Because here’s the reality behind the dream:

• 25% of businesses fail in their first year

• 50% by year five

• 65% by year ten

• And the average income for a small business owner?
  $20,000 in year one. $65,000 in year five.

And that’s if you make it to year five.

You add in the 80-hour weeks, missed weekends, skipped holidays, family time sacrificed… and suddenly that steady paycheck with PTO starts looking pretty good.

Even with that, something in me keeps coming back to this idea of building something on my own. Something real. And I’ve had to confront the reason I never followed through before.

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One reason?

Validation without risk.

If I could share an idea with people I trust and get a little buzz of encouragement, then I didn’t have to put myself out there where failure was real.

As long as the idea stayed in my head, it was perfect. Untouched. Potentially brilliant.
The moment I tried to build it, I risked proving it wasn’t.

But I’ve learned something the hard way:

If you only chase the feeling, you’ll never create something real.

Ideas are easy. Execution is everything.

And no matter what you're building, a business, a new career, a healthier lifestyle, you will hit the dip. That moment where the fun wears off and you're left with nothing but friction.

That’s where the work starts.

Not at the peak of the high. Not when everyone’s excited. But in the quiet, unglamorous middle, when no one’s watching and everything feels hard.

If you can stick through that, really grind it out, that’s where the next version of you is built.

And yet, even when you know that, there’s another force at play that can stop you dead in your tracks:
fear of failure.

That’s what I’ll be writing about next week, the fear of putting yourself out there and it not working.
Where it comes from.
Why it’s so powerful.
And how I’ve let it hold me back more than I’d like to admit.

If this post resonated with you — if you’ve ever found yourself chasing the feeling but never getting to the finish line — I’d love to hear from you.

Leave a comment, reply to this email, or share the post with someone else who might relate.
Let’s build, break, and rebuild together.

See you next week.

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