Baby, We Were Born to Run
One of the Best Weeks of My Career
I had one of the best weeks of my career.
Not because of a single deal, or one big moment, but because something I’ve been building for a long time finally started to work the way I believed it could. Conversations changed. They went deeper. What started as introductions turned into real discussions about partnership, not transactions.
That’s always been the goal.
I don’t want to win deals.
I want to build partnerships.
And for the first time, it felt like the machine I built from scratch, the process, the messaging, the discipline behind it, was producing exactly that.
It all happened over the course of two days. Conversation after conversation, each one expanding past the original purpose.
That’s when it hit me.
This is different.
For About Fifteen Minutes, I let Myself Feel It
There was a sense of relief.
If you’ve ever built something, you understand that feeling. You take calculated risks. You trust your instincts. You believe in what you’re doing, but there’s always a layer of skepticism until it actually works.
And then, when it does, it almost doesn’t feel real.
For a moment, it felt like I was floating. Like everything had slowed down just enough for me to recognize it.
And then, just as quickly, my mind went somewhere else.
- What needs to happen next?
- How do I replicate this?
- How do we build on this momentum?
The moment passed.
The Part No One Talks About
I remember thinking, “Who do I call?”
It was instinct. That natural urge to share a win.
And then I paused.
There wasn’t an obvious answer.
At first, it felt like loneliness, but that feeling didn’t last long.
Because just as quickly as it showed up, I realized something else:
I didn’t need anyone else to validate it.
The moment was mine.
The work was mine.
And no one could take that away from me.
There are sacrifices that come with chasing something meaningful. That moment reminded me exactly where I am in life, and, more importantly, where I’m going.
The Weight of Time
If I’m being honest, I think about time wasted more than I probably should.
That’s what happens when you start to see life through the lens of efficiency. You begin to recognize where time could have been used differently, where progress could have started sooner, and where potential sat untouched for too long.
I think about the impact I could have made if I had figured this out earlier.
I think about people who believed in me, who aren’t here to see it now.
And at the same time, I feel grateful.
Grateful for the opportunities I’ve had.
Grateful that I’m here now, doing the work.
That tension, between appreciation and urgency, is something I carry with me every day.
Why I Don’t Stop
People talk about stopping to appreciate the moment.
Stopping to celebrate.
Stopping to “smell the roses.”
I understand the idea.
But for me, stopping has never felt natural.
Stopping feels unproductive.
Stopping feels uncomfortable.
Stopping feels like losing momentum.
The same constant movement that got me here, even when I wasn’t moving forward as fast as I wanted, is the same movement I rely on now.
Because movement means progress. Movement means I’m not stuck.
I’ve always believed that if you keep moving long enough, even if it feels like you’re on a hamster wheel, eventually you build enough momentum to break through.
Work is Where I Know Myself
There’s a reason I always return to the work.
It’s the one place where the feedback is clear.
Where effort turns into results.
Where progress is measurable.
Being a good father and a good friend; those things matter more than anything. But they’re harder to quantify. Harder to measure in real time.
Work is different.
Work tells you the truth.
And it’s the place where I’m most disciplined.
Probably not a coincidence.
The Bigger Picture
All of this ties back to something bigger than a good week.
I’m not chasing individual wins. I’m building something that lasts.
A legacy staffing model.
One that changes how people think about staffing, how it’s done, how it’s measured, and how it impacts both businesses and the people who depend on it.
If that model ends up being adopted by others, that means we did something right.
Because the goal isn’t recognition.
The goal is impact.
3:00 PM
That afternoon, I walked outside.
It was around 3 PM. I looked up at the sky and just smiled.
It felt different.
For a second, I thought again about calling someone.
Sharing it.
Saying it out loud.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I put my AirPods in, turned on the new Harry Styles album, and started walking.
No destination.
No plan to celebrate.
No speech.
Just movement.
I found myself thinking through everything, the conversations, the steps that led there, what worked, what didn’t, and what needs to happen next.
Breaking it down.
Rebuilding it in my head.
Preparing to do it again.
Born to Run
That walk wasn’t about avoiding the moment.
It was the moment.
Not a finish line.
Not a celebration.
A continuation.
Because for me, progress has never been about stopping and looking back.
It’s about understanding where you are… and then moving forward.
Always forward.
Still moving.
Matt Sarant is a proud member of the Kennedy Services family. Kennedy Services is one of Maryland’s oldest independent, woman-owned staffing services, headquartered in the heart of Baltimore City.