Rebel Talk: Hard Landing

Ever have a moment where you feel like you're flying—everything’s aligned, momentum’s building, progress is real—and then bam, life slams you into the ground harder than you expected?

Yeah. Me too.

This week, I was reminded of that feeling in a very real, very literal way.

I'm nearing the end of my private pilot training. A dream I’ve carried with me since I was a kid staring up at the sky, wondering what it would feel like to control the aircraft rather than just watch it disappear into the clouds. For years it lived in the “someday” category—tucked away behind obligations, work, kids, and the ever-piling “later” list we all seem to have. But last year, I made the decision to stop waiting for someday. I made it a now thing. I chose to chase the sky.

Since then, I’ve knocked out a number of solo flights and built up the hours, confidence, and experience. But this past week, I was gearing up for one of the big benchmarks—my long solo cross-country flight. Three different airports. Over 150 nautical miles. All on my own.

To prepare, I booked a lesson with my instructor to practice high wind gusts and crosswind landings—the kind of conditions that challenge even experienced pilots. Winds were gusting up to 28 knots with a 16-knot crosswind. I flew my Cessna 172 that afternoon and we did six takeoffs and landings.

The first four? Smooth. Controlled. Confident.

The fifth?

That’s where things got real.

On final approach, I was getting tossed around like a leaf. Coming in low and slow, flaps fully extended, a nasty gust shoved me upward and off centerline. I tried to correct, cut power, and dropped fast—too fast. I slammed into the runway with a jolt that rattled through the yoke and into my spine. The kind of landing you feel in your teeth. No damage, no disaster… but it shook me.

I turned to my instructor and said what every Relentless Rebel knows deep down when life throws a punch:

"I've got to do that again."

So I did.

I went back up, recalculated my approach, made the adjustments I’d learned just minutes before, and came in steady. Buttered the landing. Smooth as silk.

And that right there? That’s life.

Because the very next day, on my actual long solo cross-country flight, the winds picked up again. Gusts. Crosswinds. Tough conditions. But now—I was ready. That hard landing didn’t break me. It built me. And I did it. 

Here's the truth:

We all face hard landings.

In business… when a deal falls through or the numbers don’t add up. 
In relationships… when communication crumbles or someone walks away. 
In health… when your body betrays your will or life knocks the wind out of your lungs.
In mindset… when doubt creeps in and confidence crashes.

But a hard landing doesn’t mean you’re not meant to fly.
It doesn’t mean you're failing.
It means you’re learning.

Too many people hit the runway hard and say, “I can’t do this.”

But the Relentless Rebel doesn’t flinch. We go again—wiser, sharper, more relentless than before.

It’s not about perfect flights. It’s about being brave enough to take off again after turbulence shakes you. It's about knowing that the smoothest landings are often born from the hardest impacts.

So if you’re going through something right now—something painful, something heavy—don’t hang up your wings.

Climb back in the cockpit. Recalibrate. And go again.

Because the next one? The next shot might just be the one you butter.

And trust me…
There’s no better feeling.

Keep flying,
Keep fighting.

Stay Relentless,
Ryan ✈️