Why Fly Fishing is Like Marketing

Over the past few years, I’ve taken to the waters of Colorado to master the art of fly fishing. I practice what I call “active fishing,” where I choose to fish along running water (creeks, streams, rivers) and move upstream behind the fish. I stop along the way at choice spots but am constantly wading or hiking ahead to see what’s around the next bend.

This summer, I’ve realized that successful fishing is a perfect analogy for B2B marketing (demand gen and product marketing). I’ll break down what both successful anglers and marketers do right.

Plan Ahead, Before You Get to the Water

Before you get in the car, decide where you want to go and what challenge you’re ready to face. Should it be a meandering creek (abundant, smaller fish more easily caught) or a wider, flat river (larger, cagier, and photo-worthy fish)? Like defining your ideal customer profile (ICP) in marketing, you need to decide what you can target with the energy and resources you have. It’s always a balancing act, so careful consideration before choosing a location can have a great impact on your overall success. Also, check that all your equipment is working and stowed in the car before you embark!

Understand What Your Targets Find Appealing

Trout will only eat what’s hatching (or something that looks close), so casting an out-of-season fly is like giving your prospects last year’s market research report. The best anglers approach a stream and mark which bugs are in the air or under rocks. They consult online or at the local fly shop for tips on what’s currently tasty. And they pivot to new flies when what they’ve rigged isn’t (or stops being) effective. Just as in marketing, it’s the research, attentiveness, and trial and error that give you the advantage. 

Know How to Get Your Targets’ Attention

As with marketing personas, trout have defining characteristics that you can use to help catch them. For example, trout are lazy and mostly face upstream to snatch whatever food is coming towards them, expending as little energy as possible.  You learn to land your cast well upstream of where they are (if you can see them) and then patiently let it drift down to them so they think it’s a genuine meal. Presenting a fly to the side or behind a trout gets you nothing, nor will jerking around the line in an unnatural way. They will see right through you just as your prospects will, when you present them with high-level, low-calorie marketing assets, or if your timing is tremendously off the buying cycle.

Don’t Be Afraid to Pivot 

In running water, you see all conditions: deep and shallow, fast and slow, warm and cold. I’ve learned that if you’re casting along a certain riffle and nothing is happening, do a 180-degree turn and try a different part of the stream. It may seem counterintuitive, but a stark pivot often works. This is when trying a new approach, rather than doubling down on what isn’t working, is what brings success.

Hit Your Target, Despite Ever-Changing Conditions

Trout are always hungry but also discerning. That’s why you must avoid a static approach and adjust your tactics on a regular basis. As with marketing, anglers must account for a dynamic environment. As the seasons and stream conditions change, plentiful streams can seem nearly empty. With greater water flow (think: more advertising and market noise), trout can retreat to deeper pools or under the river bank, where they’re harder to entice. And on sunny days, fish will see you coming and can scatter before you even get a chance to lure them in.

In fishing, you can solve this by adjusting your rig: add more tippet (the fine line leading to the flies) or weight so you can place the lure deeper. You can also change out the fly to something that would be more natural in deeper water. In marketing, experimenting with multiple channels and varying topics, even ones you consider long-tail, keeps you from complacency and can catch the best prospects on any given day. How often do you update your LinkedIn ads and keywords to meet new needs and trends?

Learn the Landscape to Build on Your Success

I often return to the same fishing locations, and so I immediately know where to start, upping the probability of my success. It doesn’t always hold (see previous section on conditions), but trout keep to roughly the same patch of water, so unless they’ve been caught and taken away, they could easily be in the neighborhood. When you really understand the ebbs and flows in your market, reaching out to your ICP just gets easier.

Fish an entirely new stream, and you’ll have less predictability, potentially setting yourself up for a bonanza day or putting yourself at risk of getting “skunked.” If you cast 10-15 times in a pool and nothing happens, then move on, even if it is the prettiest part of the river. Read the landscape.

Performance Metrics Matter – and Make You Better

In fishing, your success metrics are the number of trout caught, types of trout, and the size of the fish (especially if you catch and keep them). The last is regulated by state and local authorities. In marketing, it’s similar: number of qualified leads, opportunity type, and size of opportunity, which is usually defined by revenue leadership. You have to stay on top of those to prove your impact. Benchmarking your success in both is what helps you to show your expertise and mark your progress so you can continue to improve.

Where the Comparison Falls Apart

Of course, nothing’s a perfect match. Here’s where my analogy falls short:

  • Marketers do not catch and release. Treating qualified leads the same way as I treat fish would not sit well with sales!
  • Sales cares more about fish size. My joy is hooking and landing a fish (“the tug is the drug”), but sales reps are far happier with a focus on the bigger catch (think: whales).
  • Fish are not like long-term customers. You can’t learn much from a fish. They won’t grant interviews, commit to multi-year deals, or stay with you once you release them. I imagine this is closer to the B2C marketing experience.

The Best of Both Activities: Being in the Zone

Friends ask me why I love fly fishing in Colorado. Work colleagues want to know why I enjoy my chosen career in product marketing. The answers are surprisingly similar: I get to employ cool tools (rod and reel vs. AI), I have the freedom to experiment (flies vs. AB testing), and, most of all, I am able to apply my smarts and creativity to realize tangible results (fish in the net vs. opportunities in the pipeline). And don’t forget the bragging rights when you land the big catch/customer!

Even more important: in this age of endless distraction, both activities allow me to achieve my most productive “flow state.” The joys of fishing and marketing intersect in those precious hours when I can simply let go of the small annoyances, lose track of time, and completely lock my attention on the current task. Whether that’s knee-deep in a mountain stream catching trout or hunched over my keyboard in a dedicated time block for new messaging, there’s a shared sense of unencumbered productivity and accomplishment. Pure bliss.

What I Learned in Food Jail

As my friends and family are aware, I spent the past two weeks as a willing experimental subject. With the indication of a fatty liver, my internist asked me to submit to what he calls “Food Jail,” a highly balanced but proscriptive diet that he puts his GLP-1 patients on so they can eat nutritiously even with a reduced appetite.

I was game to give it a try, even though I am not on a weight-loss drug. It was a tough fortnight, but I came through alive – and substantially slimmer. Note: I continued to exercise regularly, and so that was a control.

 

Here’s what I already knew, but confirmed:

  • You eat what you have available, so make smart pantry choices
  • Check labels for hidden calories
  • You can never eat enough fresh veggies
  • We all use way too much oil/butter when we cook
  • If you cook with less salt, add more herbs
  • Every stew deserves kale
  • We sneak in more white flour (crackers, pita, tortillas) than we think
  • There’s no need to snack with balanced meals

And here’s what I discovered:

  1. Meal timing is everything. I have friends who subscribe to intermittent fasting, and it always seemed excessive to me. But as I was only allowed to eat between 9 AM and 5:30 PM, I was spending far more time digesting my meals overnight and in the morning. I’m going to keep this habit, though perhaps more to 7:00 PM so I can have a social life.
  2. Focus on light protein, but not too much. As I weighed my fish or chicken for lunch and dinner, I could clearly see what 50 grams represented. A visual cue to calories and weights has helped me understand what a decent portion actually looks like. Many times, I eat far more protein than I need to stay healthy.
  3. Variety is critical. The hardest part of Food Jail was the monotony of the meals – the same salad every day and for lunch and dinner. So I played around with the presentation of the ingredients. I transformed my chicken quinoa salad into a soup with low-calorie chicken broth when I caught a summer cold. I even exchanged my breakfast bowl of grainy cereal with high-protein milk, a banana, and berries for dry cereal and a fruit smoothie. I do not recommend pulverizing the cereal, as it just makes a crunchy smoothie (blech).
  4. You can rewire your food habits in two weeks.  By day four, I no longer found food appetizing (see #3 above about the need for variety), but I also was not ravenous first thing in the morning. My metabolism adjusted quickly, I felt less bloated, and I was less interested in the foods I couldn’t eat (breakfast burritos, pizza, dumplings, Thai noodles). What I could eat was boring, so food itself became boring. Days 5-9 were challenging at best.

So, what were my actual results?

Changing my diet and portion sizes in this way was radical, yet I was caught off guard by the impact of Food Jail. In two weeks, I lost the extra 9-11 pounds I’d been carrying around the last few years due to an ongoing medical treatment that included steroids (it ended in March).

I now weigh less than I did three years ago, and I can see a path forward to keeping it off and perhaps losing a little more over a longer period. I am very pleased with the results, and while I won’t do a diet again in the same way, I do not regret two weeks of begging off dinner invitations and being the only one nursing seltzer water at a barbecue.

Going forward, I’ll shift to a more varied Mediterranean diet (yogurt! olives! whole grains!), forgo snacks, and keep more limited eating hours. This will take willpower and good judgment, but I plan to eat the straight and narrow. Of course, I will treat myself to something off the list every so often because I will have earned it and can accommodate it. But don’t tell my doctor, as I don’t think I’d last through another round of incarceration in Food Jail.

Lesson Learned: Your Social Name Is Your Networking Brand

In Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Juliet famously asks, “What’s in a name?” She argues that it is the person who matters, not an arbitrary label (like Romeo). That’s love.

And yet, over 400 years later, I’ve discovered the opposite: that for online networking, your preferred name is not arbitrary – it’s critical to your brand.

I know this because I failed LinkedIn Profile 101. Networking sites thrive on specificity, and on a whim, I naively switched from Larry, my nickname, to Lawrence, my birth name.

And so began the rolling disaster. As a marketer with branding experience, I should have seen it coming. Bad on me.

Immediately, all references to “Larry” disappeared. Not so bad, I thought, even though that’s how I refer to myself.

Then, I noticed that acquaintances – both new and old – began to address me as Lawrence. More than one person asked if I’d changed my name. It was awkward.

To compound the issue, the messaging autofill suggestions, now rife with Lawrence references (“Thanks, Lawrence!”, “A pleasure to meet you, Lawrence”), reinforced the new standard. It all felt overly formal.

And worst of all, without intention, I had erected a barrier for friends and recruiters who were searching to find Larry Goldman. “It’s still me!” I shouted into the ether.

Flailing but stubborn, I tried the preferred name feature that put Larry in parenthesis in the middle of my profile name. No one noticed and nothing changed.

Last week, I admitted defeat and switched the profile back to Larry. I’ve never felt more myself. As someone who is regularly confused with his identical twin, that’s saying something.

What I should have remembered is the power of brand consistency. In marketing, your product name is shorthand for the entire customer experience – your brand. Done right, it’s all you need to evoke an emotional connection. Modifying a product name is always risky and complicated.

The same apparently goes for networking. Unwittingly, I had undermined my established human brand and “caused confusion and delay,” to quote the venerable Sir Topham Hatt.

I appreciate the lesson. When people work with you, link with you, or meet you at events, they know only your social name. If they like you, then that positive sentiment accrues under that name, not a variant of it.

But I still wonder: what to do when you like both your formal and preferred names? If you have found a viable solution, let me know.

For now, I remain your friend, Larry.

Waymo and Me: No Driver, No Problem

While not a Luddite, I’m also not what you’d call a classic Early Adopter.  I find new tech exciting but am more likely to adopt it when I have a real need. For example, I’ve begun to apply generative AI with far greater frequency to help with graphics and my consulting research.

But never in any world would I have thought to take an autonomous vehicle. What? No driver? The chaos of the road? I thought, to quote The Boss, “It’s a deathtrap, it’s a suicide rap.” The well-publicized accidents and the ongoing problems with Tesla’s Full Self-Driving (FSD) mode had not made me a fan of the technology. I’d never put my life so knowingly at risk.

We don’t have a self-driving car service in Denver (too snowy, I hear), so I’d been eyeballing the cars during my recent trip to San Francisco. Bedecked with sensors and topped with a swirling roof beacon, these strange-looking vehicles were everywhere. Then, when I needed a ride to a restaurant, a friend suggested calling me a Waymo One car on her app. Highly curious and a little more than nervous, I agreed to give it a try. 

There are very few moments in my life that have completely changed my perspective. This ride was one of them. Waymo did everything right:

  • On-time arrival with no cancellations and reassignments I could see
  • A clean and comfortable interior (made by Jaguar)
  • Welcome messages that helped orient me to the experience
  • A backseat screen with a button for live support if needed
  • A panel that showed what the car “saw” on its way: parked cars, moving cars, pedestrians, traffic lights, stop signs, and more
  • Ambient music that put me at ease

The Waymo hummed along at Goldilocks speed, never too fast or slow. We passed through a yellow light once, but without the acceleration you’d expect with a live driver. Fifteen minutes later, I arrived safely and on time, having jettisoned my skepticism of self-driving cars somewhere back along the route.

Emboldened, I downloaded the Waymo app and called a car to take me back after dinner. The app was intuitive, pulling my Apple Pay information so that I didn’t have to struggle to enter a payment method. The ride was as comfy as before and very affordable. I didn’t have to talk, tip, or rate the driver.

Since that night, I’ve devoted some serious thought to how I was able to overcome my bias against self-driving cars. First, their omnipresence in downtown San Francisco helped normalize my impression of them. If everyone else was using them safely, why couldn’t I? Their reputation is strong, and new riders like my friend become their best promoters.

Second, as a product marketer, I’m impressed. Waymo has clearly worked to create a seamless customer journey. I felt confident in the entire experience, from the ease of requesting a ride to the smooth drive to the introductory emails. They’ve developed a strong brand (tagline: “The World’s Most 
Experienced Driver”) with positive associations in even the smallest of touches. 

Finally, I love that the Waymo One is electric and fully powered by renewable energy. It’s better for the environment.

Some things don’t change: I remain skeptical of Teslas, and I’ll continue to use the established rideshare apps as I need them. But what is new is that I now recommend Waymo as an alternative experience to anyone who travels to a participating city (Atlanta and Miami are coming).  I want others to experience the same thrill I felt, to safely break through the doubt and hesitation and leave their presumptions by the roadside.