We were running north with a hint of a tailwind. The bike computer said we were running an easy 23 mph. Six cyclists in a pace line. The lead cyclist created the forward wind tunnel, expanding larger as each team member passed through. Even with a 5 mph tail, at 23, we still had 18 mph of head wind. The efficiency of the pace line allowed the team to run quicker than a single cyclist alone. The leader on the nose can put maximum effort into the wind, with the rest of the pack safely tucked in behind. The pace line rotates its leader to keep fresh legs up front.

In the dark, the approaching car was easy to see, its headlights piercing out from a hidden driveway. The halogen beams continued to brighten the road in front. We could see the car, the car couldn’t see us.

“Car right! Car right!” echoed off the passing buildings. The pace line, which had been a steady snake for the past 7 minutes suddenly began to bunch, alternating riders cheated left and right. “Slowing!” yelled the lead. Each rider focused simultaneously on bike separation, an escape path and the intersecting car. What would happen next? The riders were bunched, speed had dropped to 18, the efficient wind tunnel disappeared, each bike now flaring its own path into the resistant air.

The headlights stopped. The lead rider made eye contact with the driver and held up a stopping hand. The driver clicked to high beam and back to low.

The lead rider came out of his saddle and pressed hard into the wind, pushing back to 20. The second rider came back from the left and tucked in behind the lead 24 inches off the wheel. Each successive rider adjusted position, pressing into the forming tunnel.

The last rider hooks on and the lead hammers back to 23. In the short space of 8 seconds, the pace line approached danger, lost its effectiveness, then regrouped into a highly interdependent efficient team.

How does your team run its pace line? When circumstances throw it off course, how quickly does it react to protect itself? How does your team re-establish its operating groove? What is communication like? How quickly does the wind tunnel return? Does your team practice this drill?

Torrey took a long breath. “So, I am responsible for the output of my team members?”

“That is what I will hold you accountable for,” I replied.

“Even if they get sick, or a machine breaks down, or materials are late,” Torrey was looking for a way out.

I nodded my head. “Torrey, the reason we selected you for this project, is that you have been successful on other projects, six months in length. I expect you to manage the uncertainty of events that could happen and will happen during a project of this Time Span. I expect you to make contingency plans, schedule redundancy where it’s appropriate, inspect for quality, anticipate schedule changes, vacations and prevent accidents. I don’t expect you to make excuses. I expect you to anticipate, modify, readjust and meet the deadline.”

It was a late weekend morning. I was headed south on A-1-A, returning from a solo bike run to Boynton inlet. The headwind was light, but enough to knock the speed to an even 19mph. Three hours into the ride, I was in no position to hammer the wind, yet impatient to keep the speed up.

“On your left,” was a friendly heads-up as an unknown rider with fresh legs slipped in front. I downshifted and picked up the reps to catch his wheel. I settled into the quiet space of his draft at 21mph. Seconds later, I sensed a third rider on my tail. Now we were three.

For thirty minutes, we snaked down the road, changing leads, holding 21, taking turns on the nose. I was struck with the purity of teamwork between three people who had never met before, with only three words between them.

A team will never gain traction without a common purpose.

This was a team with nothing, except a common purpose, executing skillful maneuvers, supporting each other, communicating precisely with each other. There was no orientation, no “get to know you session,” just a purity of purpose.

When your team works together, how clear is the purpose? What is the commitment level of each team member to that purpose?

“How could it be necessity. I thought you said it was a volunteer project?” I pressed. “Volunteer means you had a choice. How could it be necessity?”

Donna sat for a minute. “You are right. We were volunteers, as a team. But to us, it was necessary. It was necessary to show up on time. It was necessary to support each other. It was necessary to challenge each other. It was necessary to finish the project.”

“Look, you said it was necessity that made your team perform at such a high level. But if you were all volunteers, what made this project necessary?”

“I don’t know,” Donna replied. “It was something we saw in the project.” She stopped. “Or something we saw in ourselves that made the project necessary. For each person on the team.”

I let her words sink in. She had just made the connection. The necessity that drove her team was something inside each team member, that made them push forward.

And then I pressed again, “So, how do you, as a manager, create that necessity, with your team, on this new project?”

“If you want to build a team, give them a real problem to solve,” I started. “Forget about sensitivity training and communication seminars. Give them a real problem to solve.”

“You mean I should forget about the team circle with all the falling and catching?” Donna smiled.

“Yes. Think about a high performing team you were once a member of. And tell me all about it.”

“Okay,” she responded. “I remember a team. I was just out of college and a group of us got involved in this community service project. We were together for only six weeks, but it was pretty intense. After the project, we all moved on to different things, but when we worked together, against all odds, we were unstoppable.”

“Don’t tell me about the project, tell me about the team. Who was on the team, why the intensity, what was it that made that team so powerful?”

“We were focused. The project was very clearly defined, along with several problems, issues and challenges. The more difficult the problem, the better we worked together.”

“What was it, about the team that made it work so well?” I pressed.

“The biggest thing,” Donna nodded, “was that no single person could do the project alone. It was necessary to cooperate, necessary to ask for cooperation, necessary to communicate. It wasn’t that we were good at being a team, there was just no other way. It was necessity.”