I get strange looks this time of year when I put on my running shoes, ball cap and baggy shorts to go for a late afternoon run with a heat index in the 90's. What motivates this masochistic act of self-punishment? Mom believes it was the weekly glass of merlot she had while carrying me in her womb. Linda thinks it's my obsession to stay competitive with the boys. Cousin Russ says I'm crazy. 

For those who share my peculiar disorder, it is called Type Two Fun. Difficult, stressful, and to varying degrees dangerous activities that are highly rewarding in hindsight. T2F comes in many forms. Running a marathon or triathlon, returning home from a Canadian fishing trip on your bicycle, climbing a mountain, participating in a 24-hour charity walk, long distance canoe races. Some women may equate childbirth with T2F. Others might slap me for suggesting it.  

The origin of my enthusiasm for T2F began in high school. After getting banished from the football team in my senior year, Coach Sherman left the door open for a late season return if I stayed in shape. My response was to start running after chores. With leather, high top, size 12 AAA work boots and manure stained denim jeans, I ran from the farm, down the road past the cemetery, north up the dirt path to the old shack, (fertile ground for future hyperbolic prequels) banged out 40 pushups and ran back home, two miles of mental discipline and aerobic intensity. 

In a teenage, Midwestern, farm kid version of Rocky Balboa's or Luke Skywalker’s grueling preparation, I followed this routine five nights a week for five weeks. When I reported to Coach Sherman on my progress, he was skeptical. It was hard for him to believe the work boots and long pants did not have severely unpleasant consequences. My only explanation for this was a vastly different barometer for discomfort.  

Nonetheless, CS let me return. Wind sprints were the standard final drill. As the right-side tackle and second heaviest man, er boy, on the Team, speed was not my gift. However, shockingly, around sprint number six, I was near the front of the pack, right after the QB's and RB's. This was the fall of '76. Since then, my commitment and passion for T2F has come to define my identity, as much as being a farmer defines my profession. 

It was in this vein that in lieu of fading away into retirement, as was the original plan when I turned over leadership of Pinicon to Bert, Ben and Alex, that I decided to start a new enterprise. It would be the final compliment to what in my mind is the ultimate farm business model. A grain farm that adds value through livestock, owns the required infrastructure for both enterprises, and enjoys the synergies these combined enterprises create. Vertically integrated food production from seed to slaughter.

As we already owned a large number of hog nurseries and finishers, all we needed was a sow farm, sized to fill our barns, and a feed mill to process our grain. Ringneck farrowed its first pigs twelve months ago. The new feed mill is under construction and slated for completion in early '25.

I've never run a 100-mile ultra marathon; however, I've imagined the last few months as being somewhere around the 79 mile mark. Hours before sunup, rain turning to sleet, ascending a muddy trail towards a high mountain pass. We've been confronted with a number of possible but improbable challenges simultaneously, a confluence of adversity. Yet, this has strangely made me more at peace.     

Prior to committing to this endeavor, I established a redline. A point where we cut our losses and admit the idea does not produce the desired result. I will admit this was a mistake before we are forced to make desperate, short sighted, capital preservation moves that harm our long-term viability.  At the same time, win or lose, the example we set, the lessons we learn, the relationships we forge, will make this experience worthwhile. The person who never risks failure, never discovers their potential. I would regret letting fear keep me from answering this question.   

On the other hand, realization of the expected benefits will place our company in a uniquely resilient position, creating a ripple effect of opportunity within and beyond Pinicon.

The world would be a boring place if we were all the same. Every day I am grateful we are not. Mom, Linda, and Russ may each be right. Regardless, being a practitioner of T2F has taught me to relax under pressure and discover the depths of my ability to endure. In the game of life, being able to run that last mile can make all the difference.

 Jim