A Cinch By The Inch

 

One of my oldest friends is also one of my greatest mentors, second only to my own father. He was my pastor for 35 years, and during that time he shared countless sayings and stories that taught me lessons about life.

One of the many advantages of knowing Gary Williams for that long is that I heard some of his stories many times. And sometimes, hearing a story again and again is exactly what it takes for the lesson to stick. The words become familiar, the meaning sinks in, and eventually—if you are anything like me—you find yourself remembering them when you need them most.

Whether he was talking about his family, boxing, car upholstery, or some other life experience, he had a way of making a point that stayed with you.

One of his sayings was, “A cinch by the inch, but hard by the yard.”

It sounds simple enough, but it contains a lesson that applies to almost everything we want to accomplish in life.

One Inch at a Time

Think about losing weight. If you need to lose 50 pounds, the number can seem overwhelming. Looking at the entire goal, you might wonder how you will ever get there. But you don’t have to lose 50 pounds today. You can begin with small, manageable changes, one day at a time. Those changes, repeated consistently, can add up to a significant result.

The same principle applies to painting, making a movie, starting a business, writing a book, or building a house. The finished result may look enormous, but every large project is simply a series of smaller steps. You don’t have to do it all at once—just the next piece.

Even the Unusual Can Begin With a Small Step

Consider Michel Lotito, a French entertainer known as “Monsieur Mangetout,” which translates roughly to “Mr. Eat All.” He became famous for consuming things most of us would never consider putting in our mouths, including metal and glass.

According to Guinness World Records, Lotito ate 18 bicycles during his lifetime, along with numerous other unusual objects. His most extraordinary claim was consuming a Cessna 150 light aircraft piece by piece over two years, from 1978 to 1980. His unusual diet was also said to include television sets, shopping carts, chandeliers, and even a coffin.

Lotito was awarded the record title for the world’s strangest diet. The publishers presented him with a commemorative brass plaque, and in a fittingly bizarre twist, he ate that too. Guinness estimates that he consumed more than nine tons of metal during his lifetime. (Read the Guinness World Records story).

I’m certainly not suggesting that anyone should try to imitate Lotito. His story is an extraordinary curiosity, not a recommendation. But consider the sheer scale of what he reportedly accomplished. An entire airplane is an enormous object. Approaching it piece by piece over two years is a very different proposition from imagining you could somehow eat the whole thing at once.

The lesson isn’t about eating metal. It’s about recognizing the difference between looking at something as one enormous undertaking and approaching it in smaller portions.

We often see the finished accomplishment without seeing the process that made it possible.

The Yard Is Made of Inches

One of the biggest mistakes we can make is to look at a large undertaking, focus on everything that needs to be done, and become discouraged before we begin.

We see the 50 pounds, not the first walk. We see the finished painting, not the experience that went into creating it. We see the completed book, not the pages that had to be written. We see the successful business, not the first customer, the first sale, or the first difficult decision.

It’s easy to confuse the size of the goal with the difficulty of the next step.

Of course, breaking something into smaller pieces doesn’t guarantee success. Some things are genuinely difficult, and some goals can require time, resources, help from others, and plenty of patience. There will be setbacks. There may be days when we make little progress or have to start again. But a difficult journey becomes more manageable when we stop trying to travel the entire distance in our minds and concentrate on what we can do next.

The Importance of Finishing

Getting started is important, but so is sticking with something long enough to finish it.

The Bible puts it beautifully in Ecclesiastes 7:8 (King James Version):

“Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof: and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.”

It’s easy to become excited about a new idea. At the beginning, we imagine the possibilities and picture what success might look like. But eventually the excitement may fade, the work becomes tedious, or we encounter obstacles we didn’t anticipate. That’s when patience matters.

A worthwhile accomplishment usually requires more than a good beginning. It requires continuing when progress is slow, adjusting when necessary, and taking the next step even when the finish line isn’t yet in sight.

Start Where You Are

If there is something you’ve been wanting to do but haven’t started because it seems too complicated, too expensive, too time-consuming, or simply too difficult, consider looking at it differently.

What is the smallest useful step you could take today?

You don’t have to write the entire book. Write a paragraph. You don’t have to build the entire business. Contact your first potential customer. You don’t have to master a new skill in a week. Spend a little time learning and practicing.

You may not be able to see the entire path from where you stand. That’s all right. You just need to know what to do next—and have the patience to keep going.

My pastor’s saying has stayed with me because it reminds me that the size of an undertaking doesn’t have to determine whether I begin. If I can break it into manageable pieces and keep moving forward, something that once seemed impossible may become achievable.

A cinch by the inch, but hard by the yard.

Sometimes the difference between a dream and an accomplishment is simply the willingness to take that first step—and then the patience to keep taking the next ones until the job is done.