Log · 28.5°N 81.4°W · Greater Orlando, Florida
Captain/Operator/Rider/Grandfather
I ran commercial boats out of Ventura, then ran a $125 million sales division, and somewhere in between I lost my own heading. At 309 pounds I drew a line in the sand. This is where I keep the log of getting it back: the rides, the practice, the crew, and the work.
The story
The sea does not punish ambition. It punishes drift. I learned both halves of that sentence, about thirty years apart.
In my twenties I held a U.S. Coast Guard Master's license and ran commercial vessels out of Ventura. Captain, first mate, chief engineer: whatever the boat needed that day. The first rule of the wheelhouse never left me.
Always know your position. Always know your heading.
I came ashore in 1990 into a route sales truck in Miami. Twenty-nine years of consumer goods followed: Pillsbury, General Mills, Nestle, and Nestle joint ventures. My last role was general management: $125 million in direct store delivery, $350 million in retail execution, 11 districts, more than 150 people, 9 facilities. Top 1% of the company.
I could tell you the position of every truck and every freezer, and I could not tell you my own.
I was never chasing yachts. I was attached to the title, the numbers, the ranking, and to being the man everyone relied on. I carried the division at work, served as a church elder, and raised three kids with Margaret, including a son we welcomed from the foster system. All good things. That was the trap.
Nobody stages an intervention for a man who is succeeding at good things.
By January 2021 I weighed 309 pounds. My blood glucose was out of control, my blood pressure was dangerous, and my heart was skipping. I had slept four to six hours a night for five straight years, and alcohol was quietly numbing the pace. On March 30, 2021, I hit the wall.
Two days later I drew a line in the sand. I ran an operational inventory on my own life, the same way I would on a failing district. Everything came out on the table and nothing went back aboard automatically. Thirty years of building systems, turned for the first time on the one operation I had never managed: me.
Intention without a system is just a wish with a deadline.
I rode a motorcycle 6,000 miles, mostly alone, from Montana up the Dalton Highway to Prudhoe Bay, and walked into the Arctic Ocean. Then I spent a week on the Kenai Peninsula with Margaret. One granddaughter was here when I drew the line. There are five grandchildren now.
I got my heading back. That is the entire meaning of TrueNorth. The body is the vessel. The mind is the compass. The protocols are the navigation discipline. Adventure is the voyage that proves the other three are working.
If you are feeling the drift, let today be your April 1st.
The practice
These are the things I do as a person, and each one has a TrueNorth name. Adventure is the inspiration. Mindset is the engine behind change. Fitness and Protocols are where the change gets done.
01The voyage
Life is Adventure. Find Yours.
Long rides, open water, and places that do not care about my title. The road is where I find out if the rest of the practice is working.
02The compass
Strengthen Your Mind. Lead Your Life.
Meditation, breath work, and a spoken affirmation at first light. The day goes where the first hour points it.
03The vessel
Rebuild Your Body. Reclaim Your Life.
I came down from 309 pounds. The goal now is a body that can hold a loaded bike upright on the haul road and still get down on the floor with five grandkids.
04The navigation
Turn Intention Into Execution.
Sleep, food, water, and no alcohol, written down and run the way I used to run a district. Four years alcohol free on September 17, 2026.
When your identity lives entirely in the measurable, the unmeasurable quietly dies. The practice is how I measure the rest.
Rebuild life from the inside out · TrueNorth is the method, the instruments are how I live it
From the road
Frames from the ride north in the summer of 2023, and the week on the Kenai that followed. Phone photos, no filters, mostly taken with gloves on.
Next entry · Costa Rica · 10°N · Sept 2026
Dawn shoots on the Pacific coast, the cloud forest, and Arenal, with Margaret running the second camera. Frames go up here as the edit comes together.
The crew
Margaret and I have been married 35 years as of October 12, 2026. We raised three kids, including a son we welcomed from the foster system, and we have five grandchildren.
She is the planner and I am the spontaneous one. She has ridden out every storm in this story, including the ones I made myself. In Costa Rica she picked up a camera and became part of the content, which is the most TrueNorth thing that has happened all year.
Find me
If you are looking for me, start here. Everything I build and everywhere I show up is on this list.
Connect
Thirty minutes on Zoom, no pitch. Tell me where you are and where you meant to be. If I can help, I will say how. If I cannot, I will tell you that too.
maury.kerr@gmail.com
See you on the road.