Why would I ever want to be a truck driver?

Being an over the road truck driver is really not a "job" at all. It's an entirely unique lifestyle with hardly anything to compare it to, except perhaps the military.  The lifestyle is grueling, tiring, demanding, filled with moments of panic, 14 hour days, and consecutive weeks away from home at a time.  So why on earth, would any rational, normal human being ever in their right mind even consider to do something as life changing as this? 

I cannot of course speak for others, but here's my story:

Regardless of the dread or the anticipated happiness awaiting at the destination, strangely enough, the journey itself has always been what I look forward to most in any trip that I've taken. 

I began to notice this instinct in me when I realized after boarding a flight, while many passengers had slid the blinds on the window down, and went directly to sleep --- even before the plane began to taxi--- that I was one of the few on the plane in my window seat staring intently outside, excited for the unique opportunity to see the world pass by outside. There, in seat 13 A, I sit with the route maps from the in-flight magazine spread open on my lap, cramming my neck into uncomfortable positions to look out the very small window, straining to see a passing landmark below; and with my crude map,attempting to calculate where we are at the moment; wondering what is the river we just crossed over, and which city is that in the distance?

I have discovered that I find an odd comfort from simply moving. Staying in one place too long, always leaves me feeling uncomfortable. The adventure of new places, new people, and new vistas is too much to resist. 

My lack of self-confidence in social settings, and perhaps a feeling that if people are around me long enough, that I'll be bound to disappoint, leaves me with the easy option of just simply moving on before I disappoint someone. Such a tendency causes me to seek a solitary peace when it's just me, an open road, and the journey ahead. Could there also be beating within me the heart of an early explorer gazing at the untouched mountains in the distance, or the sailor who has stayed too long at port, standing at the scanning the horizon where sky and ocean meet, or perhaps, a combination of insecurity and adventurer?

After a somewhat unplanned, and hasty move to Colorado, I began a career in insurance. Why insurance?  Simply because in the small town where I lived, it was something I could do. 

However, like many, I'm a creature of habit and find comfort in the things that I know, and for 16 years, insurance was what I knew. However, I remember the first time the idea of acting on this nagging pull of engaging in my solitary journeys became a serious consideration as a career change. I managed an insurance agency and as it turned out, my office was in the back of the office suite where there were no windows. When the monotony of paperwork, the worry of pleasing customers, and the pressing need to be successful were too much, and without even a window to gaze out of for a momentary break from the pressure, I would find myself wandering out to the front office to chat with the receptionist and to soak in some of the sunshine from the windows. One day, as I shared some of my feelings about all that weighed on me, I said that I might even be happier as a truck driver. Where the thought came from, I'm not exactly sure. It wasn't something I had dwelt beforehand, but now that the words had escaped my mouth, the idea gained traction.

Somehow, as if to intervene in the life of someone about to make a decision in haste, a different job in the insurance industry presented itself. The logical, responsible thing to do seemed to take the new job opportunity, and I did. Nearly four years later, I was miserable enough that the truck driving idea came back for a visit. My personality was a horrible mismatch for the insurance job that I was in, and I was becoming desperate for change. The truck driving idea began to get more consideration. I went ahead and started truck driving school, eventually completing it, and obtaining my commercial driver's license, and then once again, right on cue, another insurance opportunity which I really couldn't turn down intervened. It was as though God and His angels were trying to protect me from doing something foolish with my life.

I threw myself whole heartedly into my new career, setting goals, learning new skills, and at times, enjoying some success. My job provided a company car and a large three state territory so it involved lots and lots of driving and lots of travel. It was then that I finally began to realize that it wasn't the sales call, the presentation, or the meetings that awaited me at my destination that provided a sense of happiness, it was the trip there.

Slowly, I began to realize that for 16 years I had been in an unhappy relationship with my career in insurance. It wasn't the fault of insurance. The companies I worked for had all been ethical, fair, and the opportunities they offered were real, and the right person, with the right traits and strengths, could make much of those opportunities. But I apparently, was not that person. I struggled. After attending a meeting to announce a new policy or new rider to a policy, my colleagues, as we left the meeting, would excitedly ask, “Isn't this good news?” My reply was a feigned enthusiasm.

Then, there was always the inevitable annual sales conference---half Las Vegas show production, half attempt at looking like a Hollywood awards ceremony, but always there was the underlying theme: you could succeed and be up here on the stage with the rest of your peers, if you just tried a little harder. You need to be more excited!

After two years of my new insurance job, I realized that I had gone through the full and complete cycle of everything that I had been trained to do. It took nearly two years to go go through all my options for success, and one by one, each avenue for success had been explored, attempted, measured, and had fallen short. Finally, here I was back where I began, and I had to start through the process again, hoping that on the second time around, success would follow. But this would require a wholesale refreshing of my hope, my courage, my stamina, and most of all , my commitment. Could I make a commitment to to another round of effort? This time, the gods didn't intervene.

It seemed irresponsible of me to leave a normal 9-5 job and head out into this journey with so many perils and so many unknowns lurking. At times, when I considered my sweet family and the comfort and routines of home that I'd be leaving, pangs of loneliness washed over me.

And then, there's the skill of learning to drive a truck. In school I stood at the side of the rig, looking up to its top over 13 feet high, and peering down its length of nearly 75 feet, and staring at the metal frame designed to hold the 40 tons a fully loaded rig weighs. As I settled into the driver's seat for training, I realized that I wanted to be a traveler, this was certainly an intimidating vehicle to do it in!

Most of all, I worried about my family. How could I explain what I'm doing to a baffled and troubled wife, who was desperately trying to figure out what had taken over her spouse? I could sense her wondering why I would give up a perfectly good job and go do this? What words could I use to try and explain this, one more time?  And for her, this wouldn't simply be a change of my job, she'd manage the household and our teenage daughter's hectic schedule all on her own.

Till now, this career change had always been a fantasy that I dabbled in --- my fall back plan in case the world I knew totally crumbled. I never could imagine myself actually ever taking such a drastic step. Somehow, the pieces one by one fell in place, and I set out to make one of the craziest career choices I could have ever dreamed. 

I sat there staring at my resignation e-mail, yet, in spite of all the planning and the acknowledgement that the pieces had all come together now, the courage to send the resignation e-mail failed me time after time. My hand hovered over the 'send' button, but I found that I was always unable to click the button, for with that simple movement of a finger, my life would change dramatically, and so there the e-mail sat, edited and  then re-edited multiple times as an excuse for delay.  Finally, the reasons and excuses for delay waned, and one morning, in a fit of courage, I hit Send.

This blog will document my journeys and adventures in my new career as an over the road truck driver. It's too early to say now how this is all going to turn out, so stay tuned for the ride!  The future can often be unpredictable. I suppose that is why it is measured to us one day at a time, thus making life the greatest journey of all.