CONSISTENCY: THE PART OF OWNER-OPERATOR LIFE NOBODY POSTS ABOUT

Let me tell you something about trucking that isn’t going to fit nicely into some motivational Facebook meme.

This shit is hard.

It was hard 20 years ago. It’s hard today. And it’ll probably be hard 20 years from now.

Yet every time the market gets difficult, I watch the same movie.

First flat tire.

First major breakdown.

Fuel goes up.

Freight goes down.

Dispatcher pisses somebody off.

Broker screws up a load.

Claim gets underpaid.

One terrible week comes along.

And suddenly:

“Fuck this. I’m done.”

Hold on.

You thought owning a trucking business meant nothing bad was ever going to happen?

Look around at the successful trucking companies that have been around 10, 20, 30 years.

You think their trucks never broke down?

You think they never got screwed?

Never lost money?

Never hired the wrong person?

Never had an accident?

Never had a claim?

Never had a customer disappear?

Never stared at a bank account and wondered how the hell they were going to make everything work?

Of course they did.

They’re successful because they’re still fucking standing.

—

I DIDN’T GET HERE WITH A SILVER SPOON

Sometimes people look at where somebody is today and assume that’s where the story started.

They see the trucks.

They see the office.

They see the business.

They see 60, 70 trucks running around.

What they don’t see is what came before it.

I started as a driver.

Then I became an owner-operator.

Then I started building.

And just to get where I am today, I took personal loans.

Not nice comfortable business financing where some corporation assumes the risk.

Personal loans. Personal guarantees. Personal risk.

My ass was on the line.

There were years when I basically worked for free.

There were times when I sold damn near everything I had so I could keep moving forward.

And not once.

Several times.

Build.

Get knocked down.

Sell shit.

Find money.

Solve the problem.

Get back up.

Build again.

Was it easy?

Fuck no.

Would I want to repeat every part of it?

Probably not.

But here’s the important part:

I’m not looking to quit.

Because I know where I’m going.

And when you know where you’re going, a bad week doesn’t change the destination.

—

STOP CONFUSING A BAD DAY WITH A BAD LIFE

This is one of the biggest problems I see with new owner-operators.

Everything becomes emotional.

Truck breaks down:

“This truck is a piece of shit.”

Bad freight week:

“Trucking is dead.”

Dispatcher makes a mistake:

“I need another company.”

Fuel jumps:

“Nobody can make money anymore.”

Broker screws something up:

“All brokers are crooks.”

Calm the fuck down.

You had a bad day.

Maybe you had a bad week.

Hell, maybe you had a bad month.

That doesn’t automatically mean you have a bad business.

The question isn’t whether bad things are going to happen.

They are.

The question is what you’re going to do when they happen.

—

EVERY PROBLEM IS TUITION

Truck repair costs you $5,000?

Okay.

That hurts.

Now what did you learn?

Could you have caught it earlier?

Was your maintenance program weak?

Did you buy the wrong equipment?

Do you need a bigger maintenance reserve?

Was it completely unavoidable?

Fine.

Then you learned something else:

Keep money available because machines break.

Lost money on a load?

Why?

Wrong lane?

Too much deadhead?

Long detention?

Bad reload area?

You chased a beautiful rate into a freight graveyard?

Good.

Remember it.

You just bought a lesson.

And trucking tuition can be fucking expensive.

So don’t pay for the same class twice.

—

AND PLEASE STOP TELLING ME HOW EASY TRUCKING WAS 20 YEARS AGO

I love this one.

“Back in the day trucking was easy.”

Really?

Because I was fucking there.

We didn’t have half the technology available today.

You couldn’t sit inside your truck with a smartphone and instantly research rates, brokers, fuel prices, traffic, weather, repair shops, parking, customers and virtually anything else you needed.

You couldn’t watch 30 videos explaining how to start a trucking company before breakfast.

Information was harder to find.

Good information was even harder to find.

Did some things pay differently?

Absolutely.

Were some things cheaper?

Sure.

But stop rewriting history like everybody who succeeded before you was driving downhill with a tailwind.

Those people had problems too.

Different problems.

But problems.

—

YOUR TRUCK DOESN’T GIVE A SHIT WHO THE PRESIDENT IS

People love finding somebody to blame.

The president.

Democrats.

Republicans.

Brokers.

Dispatchers.

Fuel companies.

Insurance companies.

DOT.

Mega carriers.

Cheap carriers.

ELDs.

The freight market.

Whatever.

And yes, all kinds of outside forces can affect trucking.

But here’s my question:

What the fuck are you going to do about it?

Your truck payment is still due.

Insurance is still due.

Your customer still expects delivery.

And Monday morning is still coming.

You can spend the entire weekend screaming about Washington.

Monday morning your truck still needs a load.

So concentrate on what you actually control.

Your expenses.

Your maintenance.

Your work ethic.

Your communication.

Your lanes.

Your relationships.

Your decisions.

Your willingness to learn.

Your ability to adapt.

That’s where your business lives.

—

LEARN THE FUCKING BUSINESS

Driving a truck doesn’t automatically make you an owner-operator.

It makes you somebody who knows how to drive a truck.

There’s another entire education behind that steering wheel.

Know your numbers.

Know your cost per mile.

Understand freight.

Understand geography.

Understand seasons.

Understand your equipment.

Understand maintenance.

Understand cash flow.

Understand why sometimes that sexy 1,300-mile load isn’t nearly as profitable as two or three short loads that keep your truck moving.

Understand why $3 a mile doesn’t automatically mean shit if the destination leaves you 250 miles from your next decent load.

Understand why gross revenue isn’t the same thing as profit.

And for God’s sake, understand that one giant settlement screenshot doesn’t make somebody a successful owner-operator.

Consistency does.

—

SOMETIMES BORING MAKES MONEY

Everybody wants the monster week.

$8,000.

$9,000.

Big settlement.

Screenshot.

Facebook.

“Look at me.”

Great.

Now show me the next 52 weeks.

That’s where business lives.

Get up.

Pre-trip.

Pick up.

Deliver.

Communicate.

Reload.

Maintain the truck.

Watch your money.

Go home.

Spend time with your family.

Come back Monday.

Do it again.

And again.

And again.

It’s boring.

Until you look backward five years later and realize that boring built something.

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DON’T MAKE A PERMANENT DECISION BECAUSE YOU’RE TEMPORARILY PISSED OFF

This one alone could save a lot of owner-operators.

Bad shit happens and immediately:

“I’m selling the truck.”

“I’m quitting.”

“I’m leaving this carrier.”

“I’m firing my dispatcher.”

Maybe you should.

But maybe you should wait until tomorrow.

Emotions are expensive in business.

I’ve made decisions pissed off.

I’ve made decisions frustrated.

I’ve made decisions when I was exhausted.

And believe me, those aren’t usually the decisions you’re proudest of later.

Solve today’s problem first.

Then decide what tomorrow needs.

—

THE PROBLEMS DON’T GET SMALLER. YOU GET BIGGER.

This might be the biggest lesson business ever taught me.

At first a $1,000 problem scares the hell out of you.

Then you solve enough $1,000 problems that they don’t scare you anymore.

Eventually it’s $5,000.

Then $10,000.

Then you’re responsible for trucks, drivers, employees, customers and millions of dollars moving through a company.

The problems didn’t disappear.

Actually, some of them got much bigger.

But something else happened.

You became harder to knock down.

That’s experience.

You don’t buy that at a dealership.

You earn it.

Usually the expensive way.

—

SURROUND YOURSELF WITH PEOPLE STRONGER THAN YOU

Another mistake is thinking being an owner-operator means doing everything yourself.

Bullshit.

Find strong people.

A dispatcher who understands freight.

A mechanic you trust.

Safety people who know what they’re doing.

A good accountant.

Experienced owner-operators.

People who answer the phone when everything goes sideways.

And most importantly, people who are willing to tell you:

“Mike, you’re fucking wrong.”

Those people are valuable.

You don’t need cheerleaders.

You need partners.

Trucking is hard enough.

Don’t fight it alone.

—

THERE’S NO SECRET FORMULA

After all these years, I wish I could tell you there’s some magical formula.

There isn’t.

The rules are actually pretty fucking boring.

Learn the business.

Know your numbers.

Surround yourself with strong people.

Control what you can control.

Learn from every mistake.

Don’t make emotional decisions.

Stay consistent.

Keep moving toward the target.

And most importantly:

DON’T FUCKING QUIT.

I’m not saying every business should stay open forever.

Sometimes numbers tell you it’s time to change direction.

That’s business too.

But don’t quit because trucking hurt your feelings.

Don’t quit because you had a breakdown.

Don’t quit because January sucked.

Don’t quit because some broker pissed you off.

Don’t quit because somebody on Facebook told you trucking is dead.

And definitely don’t quit because success is taking longer than you expected.

I’ve worked years for free.

I’ve borrowed money personally.

I’ve put my own ass on the line.

I’ve sold what I had.

More than once.

I’ve made mistakes.

I’ve taken hits.

I’ve gotten back up.

And I’m still building.

Not because I’m some fucking genius.

Because I know where I’m going.

That’s the difference.

When you know your destination, you don’t turn around every time you hit construction.

You find another road.

Maybe you slow down.

Maybe you change the route.

Maybe you have to stop and fix the fucking truck.

But you don’t forget where you’re going.

So when trucking knocks you down—and sooner or later it will—remember:

Learn something.

Get back up.

Take another step.

Then another.

Then another.

You don’t have to conquer the world tomorrow.

You just have to keep moving toward your target.

One load. One week. One lesson. One step at a time.

Never quit.

Never stop learning.

And never fucking look back.