52 Tuesdays Later

This has been the hardest one to write.

Not because I don’t have thoughts about the past year on Substack but because none of them come out clean. I’m not sure I have a perfect list or five awesome lessons. I have no neat or creative way to wrap this experiment up of mine.

It just… happened.

52 weeks ago I wrote the first edition of Tuesdays with Tony. The name came from Tuesdays with Morrie. My favorite book. I liked the idea of once a week sitting down and putting something out into the world.

And Tuesdays felt open.

Everyone has their day. Monday motivation. Sunday reflections. Wednesday has its hump day thing. Thursday have been coined “Friday Jr.” Saturdays people are out doing something.

But Tuesday doesn’t really get claimed and are often forgotten.

That’s what I liked about it. (Plus I was born on a Tuesday).

There was no plan when I first started. Other than don’t stop. No niche. No real intention to build anything.

I just like telling stories.

To friends. In a classroom in front of students. In front of parents at events. At weddings. In voice memos after something funny happens. At a family gathering telling old stories. Taking something small and stretching it into something a little more interesting. My friends would say I embellish the stories which isn’t true I just have flare when I tell a story.

The kids would call me a “yapper.” So this became another place to yap I guess.

I picked Tuesday and stuck with it.

Each week, something showed up.

Turning 30 (ew Im old). Trips into the backcountry. Working in a school every day. Coaching. Screen time. A lemonade stand. Mental health. Football. Basketball. A middle school dance. A barbershop. Puerto Rico. Wyoming. Friendships. Mountains. Dogs. And many more topics.

Most of the time it followed a simple rhythm:

Story → reflection → lesson.

Sometimes it landed. Sometimes it didn’t.

I checked the numbers. Subscribers, views, comments. You want to know if people are reading—if it’s connecting. I’d be lying if I said the numbers don’t matter.

But that only carries you so far.

Because the truth is that I’d still be doing this if no one read it.

And I think that’s the part I didn’t expect.

Nothing really “clicked” in some big obvious way this year. No viral moments. There wasn’t a moment where it all took off or suddenly made sense.

It was just… writing. Every week.

And somewhere along the way, that became enough.

I also started spending my time differently.

I’ve moved away from most other social media. I read more books. I deleted Instagram off my phone a month ago. Nothing dramatic happened. I was getting tired of the same old regurgitated and curated content for attention and validation. It got really boring.

Substack feels different.

Less noise. Less showing off. More people saying interesting things.

I’ve learned about basketball strategies. Read stories from people hiking all over the world. Took a deeper dive into how anxiety is rampant in schools. Teacher burnout. Read things I wouldn’t have found anywhere else like personal reflections on fitness, finances, faith, etc. Even followed a newsletter about what’s happening in a nearby town.

If I had to say anything after a year of this, it’s probably this:

I tried something without really knowing where it would go.

I kept doing it. For 52 straight weeks.

That’s it.

No big moment. No clean takeaway.

Just showing up, sticking with it, and seeing what happens if you don’t stop.

---

Alright fine here’s the bullet points everyone wanted. I don’t make the Substack rules but I think you have to write about what you learned after you hit a year on here so here it goes.

1. Don’t be afraid to try something new. (public speaking, stand up, a new sport, joining a gym). Life’s more fun when you do new and different things. It still feels weird knowing people read this. Hitting publish doesn’t feel natural.

2. Stick with something. I see it all the time—people quit before they even give themselves a chance. I work in a middle school. A lot of kids (and parents) want quick fixes. This was just doing something every week, whether I felt like it or not.

3. It’s not going to be perfect. You can sit here and redraft and edit till the cows come home. Some will land, some won’t. Most won’t feel as good as you thought they would. That’s fine.

4. Go anyway. I’ve used the expression “building a plane while flying it.” I’ve done that with a lot of things—this included. Starting before you’re ready is usually how I figure it out. Don’t be stupid but also don’t play it too safe.

As for “Tuesdays” I’m not sure if it’s worth it heading into Year 2 of this.

Maybe you’ll find out next Tuesday.