Jason Borowicz · 2026-07-12
The Strategy Bicycle: Is Your Growth Vehicle Strong Enough for the Ride You're Attempting?
Five parts, called Imaginactions. Bend one and the whole ride costs more than the destination is worth.
Every founder I know is riding a bicycle they never inspected.
That sentence is not a metaphor for effect. It is the actual claim. When we talk about growth we usually talk about destinations — the revenue we want, the category we want to lead, the calling we want to serve. We spend far less time on the vehicle carrying us there. And the vehicle, more than the destination, decides whether the journey is worth taking.
Last week I made the case that most founder failure is upstream — invention before intent. This week the frame gets more specific. Because "intent" is not the only part of the vehicle. There are four. If any one of them is bent, the ride costs you more than the destination is worth, and you will feel it as fatigue, friction, and a nagging sense that you are pedaling harder than the miles justify.
Here is the vehicle. Draw it on a napkin as you read. I am serious about the drawing — the diagnostic works when you can see it.
Front wheel: intent. The strength of your Why on all three layers — business, team, personal. When the front wheel is true, everything you steer aligns; when it wobbles, every other correction costs twice as much. Most founders discover the wheel is bent only after they have taken a corner too fast.
Handlebars: risk steering. How you choose which risks to steer around, which to steer through, and which to steer toward on purpose. Most leadership teams treat handlebars as brakes — a risk register is a list of things to avoid. The best teams use handlebars as steering — a register of the risks they want, because on the other side of them is a position competitors will not pay to reach.
Gears: creativity and exploration. The mechanism that lets you climb terrain you have never climbed before. Gears are what you shift into when the road changes. Founders who over-index on speed rust their gears. When the terrain changes — which it will — they discover they only have one gear, and it is the wrong one.
Frame: momentum. The weight-bearing structure of the business. Cash on the balance sheet, retained customers, institutional memory, team continuity, brand equity. Frame is what lets you take a hit without falling. It compounds slowly and shows its value only under stress.
A strong bicycle has all four. A weak bicycle has one strong part compensating for three bent ones — usually a gifted founder pedaling harder to make up for an intent wheel that has never been true.
Here is what a bent bicycle looks like in practice. This is a composite, but you will recognize it.
Owner three years into a scale attempt. Revenue up meaningfully. Team headcount up more than the revenue justifies. Margin down twelve points. Two senior people just resigned. His wife has stopped asking how work is because his answers have stopped making sense.
He came to me convinced the problem was the team. If he could just find the right VP, hire the right head of ops, replace the wrong sales leader, the growth would compound. He wanted a hiring plan.
I asked him to draw the bicycle.
Front wheel — could he name the intent underneath the growth on all three layers? Business layer only. He knew the number. He could not tell me what he would do differently on the ground if the number hit. Team layer — the founding team was fractured because none of them could describe the strategy the same way. Personal layer — he was building something he was no longer sure he wanted, but he could not say that out loud because he had already sold it to too many people.
Handlebars — was he steering toward any risk on purpose? No. Everything on the strategy list was a defense. His team had gotten very good at avoiding the failures they could see and no good at all at pursuing the ones that would sharpen them.
Gears — when was the last time the team had run an exploration that was not a defense? He could not remember.
Frame — how much cash on the balance sheet, and how much of it was really his? Six months of runway, half of it debt-funded.
He had come for a hiring plan. The hiring plan would have been another feature shipped on a bike that could not carry it. What he needed was to admit the shape of the bicycle he was actually riding — and to stop pedaling harder until the frame could hold weight and the front wheel would take a turn without shuddering.
He did not want to hear that. Nobody does. Slowing down to inspect the vehicle feels like conceding the race. In practice, it is the only thing that shortens the ride.
Here is the diagnostic. Do this now, on paper, while you are reading.
Draw four circles or shapes for the four parts. Give each one a score from 1 to 5 based on the honest answer to a single question:
- Front wheel: can you write one sentence of intent on each of the three layers — business, team, personal — for your top current initiative? 5 if all three come easily. 1 if only one comes and it feels borrowed.
- Handlebars: can you name one risk you are steering toward on purpose this quarter, and why? 5 if the risk and the reason are both specific. 1 if the whole strategy list is defensive.
- Gears: in the last ninety days, did the business run one deliberate exploration where the goal was learning, not delivery? 5 if yes and you can describe what you learned. 1 if the answer is "we were too busy."
- Frame: if revenue paused for six months, would the business still be here in a form you would recognize? 5 if yes without heroics. 1 if the honest answer scares you.
Add the scores. Sixteen or higher, you have a bicycle. Twelve to fifteen, you have a bicycle with one bent part and you probably know which one. Eleven or lower, you do not have a growth problem. You have a vehicle problem, and every additional mile is going to cost you more than the destination is worth.
Then draw the bicycle again — this time as you want it to be six months from now. Which part will you have straightened. What will that require you to stop doing to make room. Which part will you deliberately leave bent for now because the terrain does not yet demand it.
You are going to redraw this bicycle at the end of every essay in the opening arc, and again at week eight. That is not a gimmick. It is the only way I know to make growth work you can see.
Most of what I write here will be about one of these four parts. But every essay assumes the bicycle. If the bicycle is bent, no framework will save you. If the bicycle is sound, most frameworks are optional.
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Your Tuesday Intent Check (Business layer): Which part of your bicycle is weakest right now — intent, risk-steering, creativity, or momentum? The one you named first is usually the one you've been avoiding.
Send me the thinking, not the noise.