Test-As-You-Fly

In the early days of my career, I was part of something extraordinary: I worked at NASA. Every moment felt like living on the edge of discovery. Had it not been for budget cuts to the earth science program I was part of, perhaps I would have spent my career there. But there’s something magical that’s stayed with me — Test-As-You-Fly (TLYF). 

TLYF is more than a phrase at NASA; it's a philosophy. At its core, it means this: any ground test, any simulation, must mimic the real mission as closely as possible. Because when you’re headed into the unknown, you don’t just prepare — you prepare as if you’re already there.

In my time there, the term evolved, becoming a methodical process in systems engineering. It was no longer just jargon; it was a roadmap for success. We didn’t just test. We flew like we would fly in reality.

The essence of TLYF is rooted in failures — failures that weren’t just setbacks but launching pads for innovation. Hard, costly lessons that forced us to refine our approach, ensuring that every mission learned from what came before. The brilliance of TLYF is that it’s not only about the test, but about flying like you’re already in the air, bringing those risks into focus and controlling them before they can control you.

When NASA invited me onto an exploratory project with the Center of Excellence for Collaborative Innovation (CoECI), it felt like stepping into the engine room of future breakthroughs. CoECI brings together the brightest minds across NASA, the government, and the world. Together, we tackle impossible problems through crowdsourced solutions, pushing innovation to its limits.

But something else stood out in that room: the engineers. On my first day, I wondered why there were so many of them on the project. This was an Earth science project, after all. I asked one of my colleagues about it. He said bluntly, "Ron, anyone can launch a rocket into space. But engineers — they bring it home safely."

Those words stayed with me. It was never about getting off the ground. It was about landing safe, no matter what turbulence we faced. Engineers mapped out every possibility before we even started and in the end, we didn’t launch a winning product. But that project taught me that the real victory lies in how we review failure.

Lessons learned.

When I started building Fulcrum, I found myself back in that space of relentless innovation — pushing, testing, daring to fail. Every step forward carried echoes of TLYF and each failure brought me closer to success. Here's what I learned:

• Innovation starts with a leap of faith: You launch into the unknown, trusting your vision.

• The first stumble is the hardest: Failure hits like gravity, pulling you back down when you thought you’d soar.

• Crash testing teaches you more than the flight: Every failure reveals a piece of the puzzle you didn’t even know was missing.

• What comes next? The climb: You stand up, dust yourself off and begin again—this time with knowledge that makes the next step stronger.

Sharing the loss.

Next week, we’ll walk through one of the early setbacks — the frustrations, failures and lessons learned from trying to break into golf apparel. This particular failure didn’t just stall progress; it opened my eyes to something deeper. It forced me to rethink what golfers truly need. Maybe it’s not just about the clothes we wear, but about solving a problem that cuts closer to the heart of the game.

That failure taught me the value of resilience and the power of a pivot.

Stay tuned as I share how that realization shaped the next chapter and how emotional connection — not just product perfection — will drive this journey forward.

Hopefully, you’ll take away something meaningful as you build your own vision, with every success and failure along the way.