A Hot Mess: Organizing A Plane (Part 1)

During the summer, I enjoyed some flights in N21020. Hot, humid, sticky flights. Flights when normal people decide not to go to the airport, and instead head to the pool. I also started to dig through the contents of the plane’s cargo area. I wanted to get the plane organized, and ensure that all necessary items were in the plane in the event someone wanted to take a jaunt to, say, Ocean City (thereby combining both flying and water. . .).

On a bright day in September, off I drove to HEF with my new co-pilot (aka, Glen Charles) to dig through the aircraft’s contents.

First, let’s think through what an aircraft needs to operate. The basics go without saying, and you use the mnemonic device ARROW to remember:

A – Airworthiness certificate
R – Registration
R – Radio license (only need for international travel)
O – Pilots operating handbook (POH)
W – Weight and balance

Got all of that. Now, the extras that you need for the pre-flight inspection and operation: (1) An extra headset, (2) step stool for visual inspection of fuel levels, (3) fuel testing cup to ensure nothing’s gotten into your AvGas. And it doesn’t hurt to have some cleaner for the windshield, as well as a sun shield, some wipes for your hands (after messing with the fuel), sunglasses, and water.

Got all of that. So what is this mess in the back of the plane?

My co-pilot seemed unimpressed. (“What kind of an operation is my mother running??”). You can pretty much see the disgust and boredom all over that 5 month old face.
All items were removed, and here’s what I found.
• Collapsible step stool (you have to climb up to check the fuel in a C-182)
• Tow Bar (Dulles Aviation has these on the ramp, but this one is small/collapsible, and useful for when you fly elsewhere).
• Windshield Washer/scrapers (probably if you need these, you’re certified to fly IFR)
• Water container and salt (I guess this is useful?)
•Rope(always good to have on hand)
• Urinals (self-explanatory)
• Utility knife (see “rope”)
• Jumper cables (you can’t just use what’s in your car, so this is pretty critical tonsure you don’t end up stranded)
• Garbage
• Bungees (to strap done your stuff)
• Oil (especially good to have on hand for long flights).
• Duct tape (see “rope”)
• Tie downs (these operate like the tie-downs on a tent – complete with pegs)
• Hammer (for the tie down pegs)

Check it out ————> Plane contents 9.2011

I need to divide items into three groups: discard, keep in plane, keep at plane tie-down. Most of what’s in the plane needs to stay in the plane. A few items to purchase
• WD40
• Small Shovel

Obviously, you don’t have to keep all of this in the plane at all times. A storage box is always a good idea.

If a metal box with padlock seems a touch too extreme, you could always go for a simpler, sturdy plastic box. Just make sure it’s securely tied down, as it gets gusty out on the ramp. Another item to purchase to keep items in the plane to a minimum.

Next up: The newly organized plane.

Have Baby, Will Fly

April 27, 2011, I became a mother.

Glen Charles Scheirer is now over six months old, and I am approaching my 2-year anniversary of my Discovery Flight — the flight that set in motion my plans of becoming a pilot. Initially, I had thought that keeping up my pilot training would be achievable, if not a piece of cake. I envisioned myself running out to the airport with baby in tow, perhaps buying a small baby head-set, and soloing before he could walk. This has not proved as easy as I had thought. In fact, it has been pretty daunting.

I have some quotes saved in a folder, and upon sifting through them one day, found the following from Eric Hoffer.

“Our achievements speak for themselves. What we have to keep track of are our failures, discouragements, and doubts. We tend to forget the past difficulties, the many false starts, and the painful groping. We see our past achievements as the end result of a clean forward thrust, and our present difficulties as signs of decline and decay.”
~ Eric Hoffer

I suppose it’s indicative of my generation that I believe I can achieve everything through some combination of brilliance, stamina, and good fortune. Rather than the notion of perseverance and pluck that might have shaped previous generations. Mark Zuckerberg vs. Milton Hershey, if you will.

So, I’ve decided to start back up, if perhaps with more modesty.

And, for the record, I have taken the newest Scheirer out to the plane. . . and he seemed quite intrigued.

Students are Customers: The Need to Create Value

I recently posted a comment on another blog, “Stop Loss: AOPA Aims to Get More Students to Finish Line”. Robert Goyer’s entry discussed AOPA’s recent study on the state of flight training: “The Flight Training Experience: A Survey of Students, Pilots, and Instructors” (October 2010).

One of Goyer’s statements resonated with me:

If I had to reduce the findings to one statement it would be that customers expect to be treated well and to get what they’re paying for, which is to get the thrill and reward of learning to fly. They should expect nothing less.

My comment:

I appreciated your use of the term customer, as it speaks to a particular – if not explicitly stated – viewpoint on student pilots. The students need to be understood as both learners, but also as customers. Something I would term “student-customer.” Ultimately, the problem is not cost per se, but rather value to the customer. Value creation for the customer remains transparent to the student, and incomprehensible to the flight school – precisely because the flight school treats students as students only, and students view themselves as customers first, and students second (they can’t help it – society programs them to think that way). Consequently, flight schools generally do not focus on 2 critical areas of Value Creation:

1. For student-customers: flight training programs of the highest quality and value
2. For CFIs: fostering a safe, secure, professionally challenging, and rewarding flight school environment – which in turn helps to create value for the customer.

Once flight schools get it through their heads that these two areas must be addressed, then student-customer (note the purposeful inclusion of the word “customer” rather than simply “student”) retention will increase. Until then, my best wishes to AOPA’s newest endeavor. I’m afraid I remain skeptical.

I’ve made similar assertions on other blogs: as consumers, we pay more for higher value. Flight schools must recognize that students come to them with high, and sometimes poorly defined, expectations. Developing a flight training program that first assists students in articulating personal goals, and then couples that with providing them with the highest quality training is likely to succeed because it has created value for the customer.

How Not To Land a Plane

You must believe this one key element of aviation: The plane wants to fly. It was built to take off and stay in flight. You can stall the plane, and recover. You can lose your engine, and still get safely to the ground. You can try to take off too soon, and still recover to safely ascend. All because the plane wants to fly. Which is precisely what makes landing such a tricky maneuver to learn.

I take my lessons in the left seat of the plane – typical for “pilot in command” – my left hand is on the yoke to steer while in flight, and my right hand is on the throttle. For in-flight maneuvers, your feet don’t do much, other than periodically apply rudder pressure if you need to correct for some of the torque placed on the aircraft. The yoke moves back and forth, as well as from side to side, which controls the planes attitude. The throttle controls power – pushed all the way, you are at full power and ready to take off. Pulled all the way out, you have no power, and the plane turns into a glider. Generally, at any given pitch/attitude, the amount of power determines whether the plane remains level, climbs, or descends. A well executed maneuver, such as a landing, requires you to coordinate your two hands – one on the yoke, and one on the throttle, to pitch the plane forward, so the nose is slightly turned down, and simultaneously reduce power.

The trick is to do this without crashing.

Here’s how to tell if you’ve established the correct rate of descent for the aircraft: PAPI lights. PAPI (Precision Approach Path Indicator) lights are conveniently placed at the end of the runway, and show up in combinations of red and white. In Goldilocks fashion, you have 1 in 3 chances to get it right. If both are white, you are too high, and need to get into a better glide path to land on the runway. If both are red, you’re descent is too rapid, and you’re going to hit the ground way to fast. If one is red, and one is white, you’re “just right,” for landing.


Source

The second landing with Leon, as I mentioned previously was a prime example of how not to land. It started with a slightly sloppy turn onto base. As we turned base, the attitude of the plane was nose down, and so naturally we began to descend. Except I hadn’t reduced power, so we suddenly found ourselves turning onto final approach (airplane is facing the runway head-on) much lower than we wanted – we were so low that at the rate of descent, we’d never reach the runway. I automatically pushed the throttle in, and pulled the nose up. Obligingly, the plane rose away from the ground.

Now the PAPI lights were white-white – and we were way higher than I had ever been for a landing. We needed to get down – fast – or we’d overshoot the runway. “OK, Leon,” I said, “you’re controls.” “Got it, my controls,” Leon responded. With full flaps, and a quick power reduction combined with dipping the nose down, the plane began to descend. White-red showed up – briefly.

Leon pulled the throttle all the way out, cutting power, but the plane was still moving faster than normal. Normally at this point on the runway, the plane has become a glider, and you wait for a slight sinking sensation as you pull the nose up away from the runway. Even at this point, the plane can experience ground effect, and happily jump back up into the air even without power. Ours was not such a normal landing. The sharp high pitch whine of the stall warning signal went off in the cabin and the back rear wheels hit the tarmac hard. The nose quickly came forward, and full brakes brought us back to normal taxi speed.

“Whew. That did not go at all like my previous 5 landings today,” said Leon. Upon returning to our spot, Glen and Nate greeted us with somewhat wary grins. They’d seen our down-up-down landing, and knew it hadn’t gone as planned. Sharon got out without seeming too perturbed. I had never been worried about the landing. I always figured that we’d have enough time to adjust the pitch up, apply power, and escape a crash landing. But that could just be my general belief that the plane wants to fly, even more than I do.

As I thought back to my previous landings, I couldn’t help but trace our landing back to that initial sloppy turn. I’m not well-enough versed in standard maneuvers to know exactly what went awry, but I do know that I’ve had flight instructors emphasize the need for carefully executed turns in the pattern, and consistent climbs and descents at different legs of the flight pattern. The plane was happy to stay off the ground and keep going. Preparing to land smoothly requires preparing the plane attitude at the correct points in the process. Moral of the story: sloppy flying, leads to an unruly landing. Disciplined flying ensures a neatly controlled approach, and “just right” return to earth.

Just Fly

At some point in the last couple months, I realized that I was never going to get back in a plane if I kept waiting for the perfect moment. That is

• The moment I was completely prepared
• The moment I had 1.5 hours to devote to flying
• The moment I had already planned out my goals for lessons
• The moment I would no longer be rusty (go figure)

I also realized I needed to return to something I believed in: the idea that completion is more important than perfection. Somehow, I got my hands on the following rules, and have used them to goad myself to action on several occasions.

“The Cult of Done Manifesto”
1. There are three states of being. Not knowing, action and completion.
2. Accept that everything is a draft. It helps to get it done.
3. There is no editing stage.
4. Pretending you know what you’re doing is almost the same as knowing what you are doing, so just accept that you know what you’re doing even if you don’t and do it.
5. Banish procrastination. If you wait more than a week to get an idea done, abandon it.
6. The point of being done is not to finish but to get other things done.
7. Once you’re done you can throw it away.
8. Laugh at perfection. It’s boring and keeps you from being done.
9. People without dirty hands are wrong. Doing something makes you right.
10. Failure counts as done. So do mistakes.
11. Destruction is a variant of done.
12. If you have an idea and publish it on the internet, that counts as a ghost of done.
13. Done is the engine of more.

I approached February 28th in a state of extreme fatigue – not so much from lack of sleep, which was a factor, but from time spent with too many people in too close proximity. But I had called up a friend to go flying, and I was determined to keep my appointment. Doing something makes you right.

Things didn’t go as planned. First, I had convinced my lovely friends, Sharon and Nate, who were visiting for Atlanta, that they really did want to go up in a plane with me. But with neither of the pair feeling 100% percent, they weren’t convinced that going flying was the best idea (though they gamely agreed to drive out to HEF with me). Second, I forgot that in addition to all the folks in town, and the baby shower on Saturday, we were in the middle of painting the trim in the living room. And when you start painting, you don’t want to stop in the middle. Third, I was late. I hate being late. Fourth, I wasn’t feeling great. I’ll blame it on being 8 months pregnant. Laugh at perfection.

But the point was that if I waited for the stars to align, I’d never get back into the air, so feeling very pregnant and tired, with two queasy friends and the ever-supportive husband in tow, we headed out somewhat belatedly to HEF. Getting back to the airport was like a shot of espresso, combined with meeting your old love on the street. I was instantly alert and smiling. I looked out at the runway, and was just in time to see N21020 take off. Boy did I want to be up there.

As soon as Leon had the plane back to its earlier spot, I inspected it with some care, noting that there was still a slight persistent squeak for the right aileron, but that a number of things since the annual were much improved – some paint work, and the GPS was updated. With no small amount of pride, I took Sharon and Nate on a tour of the plane, and gave a “101” on wing curvature and lift.

We watched planes take off and land for a little while, before I got antsy and wanted to be in on the action. Banish procrastination.

Nate and Glen stayed on the ground, while Leon and I climbed in front and Sharon in back. Boy was I rusty. I didn’t even remember to keep my hand on the throttle. I could feel a bit of overload coming on, as I pulled myself back into reading the instrument panel, making decent turns throughout the pattern, and working with Leon to finish calls to the tower. But already on the second take-off I was beginning to feel some level of comfort. The attitude of the plane was nicely aligned with the horizon as we climbed to about 900 feet, and scanning the instrument panel started to come back.

Landing, well, that’s a story for another post. The plane wants to fly, and will do a lot to stay in the air. We got back to earth, but with the realization that I needed to get back into the cockpit on a regular basis. But then, that was the point of the trip: Done is the engine of more.

The Business of Aviation Part 4: Taking care of the plane, or I am a Plane Person

There are really two kinds of people in the world: Plane People, and Non-Plane People. Plane People are a lot like Boat People. Or Dog People. Non-Plane/Boat/Dog people simply cannot understand why the other groups would expend so much time and energy on their Pride and Joy.

Take, for instance, my parents. My parents own a dog, Skipper.

My parents don’t just own the dog, however, they actually plan a great deal of their life around the dog. They make purchases that are strictly dog-related. One of the recent purchases is a dog seat-belt. I think the actual term is a “harness,” but the thing somehow snaps onto the seatbelt in the backseat, and so it might as well be a dog seatbelt. Except the dog seatbelt is a special purchase – it doesn’t come with the car, like a human seatbelt. And the dog seatbelt has special padding. I’m pregnant, and I don’t have a special ergonomic seatbelt with padding. I just have to deal. Unlike Skipper. Every time they come to visit with Skipper, Skipper is actually sitting in a seat in the car – his own seat – not on the floor, like Zephyr, our previous dog. Now, mind you, the real sticking point is that my parents always come in a Philly CarShare car (a rental/cooperative). That’s right: they own a dog seatbelt, but they don’t own a car. My parents are Dog People. (To be kind to my Dad, it’s really my Mom who is the Dog Person, but when you’re married to a Dog Person, you get sucked in, too).

Another example, would be my friend, Rick, who owns a boat. As you may recall from the beginning of this series, there was a terrific snow storm in DC. Rick was out of town. My husband received a phone call. It was Rick. Rick had heard from a fellow Boat Person that there was so much snow on his boat that it was starting to sink. “List badly,” actually, if you are using Boat Person terminology, but the implication is the same. Naturally, he was concerned. He was so concerned that he decided to call us, Non-Boat People, to go clear his boat of the 12-20 inches of snow.

It took us over 2 hours to dig out our car. It took about the same amount of time to dig out the boat. I was somewhat sympathetic, but what did I care about his boat – that was his problem. A Boat Person’s problem. But that is the point: Boat People cannot comprehend that Non-Boat People wouldn’t share their same sense of urgency to care for their Boat.

Enter the Plane.
I quickly learned that owning a plane is not like owning a pencil holder. Nor is it akin to owning a pair of expensive shoes. It probably even surpasses owning a wedding dress (which the garment industry does everything in its power to convince you that you must preserve in a specially sealed air-tight box that is only a step below the preservation techniques used on the Declaration of Independence.).

Rather, a plane is the type of possession that you interact with in rather intimate ways. Allow me to explain. The first thing I realized upon inspecting the aircraft was that it needed some maintenance. Maintenance is an all-encompassing, forgiving term, which describes everything from routine inspections, and washings, to battery replacements and paint jobs. Maintenance costs a pretty penny, and I decided to attempt some of it on my own. Of course, I dragged my husband, as well as father-in-law along. The second thing I found out was that birds like planes. They like them a lot. They want to spend more time with the plane than I possibly could: in fact, they make planes their home.

And thus I found myself on the tarmac of HEF getting up close and personal with my plane’s engine. About as personal as the bird’s nest had gotten. It was July. Northern Virginia shimmered in the heat. We removed the hood, and found a good-sized nest, replete with feathers housed above the air intake and surrounding the turbocharger. The turbocharger has a turbine and a compressor section with an impeller. This drives horsepower. You don’t want to have feathers and nest surrounding this part of the engine. Gingerly, at first, and then with increasing annoyance, we removed grass, twigs, and other miscellaneous bird parts from the plane.
Sweat trickled down our necks. A couple hours later, we had fully extricated the bird nest, and riveted the hood back on.

Upon cleaning up the engine, I tried to get it fired up. No joy. The battery was out of juice. A line worker came out to give us a jump. >
Without a CFI, however, I couldn’t take the plane up. So we walked away, and inspected a potential hangar for the plane. A few months later, I got to purchase a new battery for several hundred bucks, because the old one just wouldn’t hold a charge. As time passed, I recognized certain unmistakable patterns of behavior: enlisting unsuspecting Non-Plane People’s help, purchasing expensive – if necessary (of course) – components, and a certain preoccupation with learning terminology unique to aviation. All signs pointed to the inevitable outcome of flight lessons, owning a plane, and starting a plane business.

And so I came to admit to myself, that I had become a Plane Person.

The Business of Aviation Part 3: Insurance. . . and a business plan develops

One of the first things I knew I needed for the plane was insurance. My experience with insurance has been only a step beyond anecdotal, because my husband happens to take care of most of our policies. It’s true. I’m one of those women – the one that just says “OK, dear,” and is happy she doesn’t have to deal with it. The one exception is health insurance, in which case I manage which company plan we choose, and any associated billing. But in that case, you aren’t really “shopping” for health insurance – you’re more making a choice between vanilla and chocolate for whatever your company provides (unless you’re like my family growing up – in which case we didn’t have health insurance. . . but that’s another story).

Why purchase insurance?

Apart from the obvious reasons:
(source)


(source)


(source)

I found it interesting that you are not required to have insurance on aircraft that you own in most states. That’s right: you have to have insurance to drive a car, but not to fly a plane. (Ummm. Yeah). But in this case, the plane was a company asset, and I was going to rent it – so I need to get some insurance for my prized posession. It’s important to clarify just what the purpose of insurance is for an aviation business: it’s for the company’s protection in the event the aircraft is damaged during the course of doing business. Basically, I needed to protect the company from the customer: the renter.


(source)

In the event of an accident in which my C-182 was damaged, Aerial Aviation would file a claim on the policy, the insurance company (we hope) would pay the claim, the aircraft would be repaired and go back into service.

Faced with needing to purchase insurance for such an critical asset as a plane, I was at a bit of a loss. Let me tell you what not to do first.

1. Do not google “plane insurance” – the result is a cacophony of results, all of which tell you they are the best, and none of which tell you how they are better than others.

Not that I did that.

2. Do not attempt to arbitrarily select different groups from said google search for quotes, just to get a variety of responses. This takes a lot of time, and you often end up talking to random, not terribly helpful people.

I mean, I would never do that either. . . (ahem).

Now let me tell you what to do.
Do get some suggestions from friends/colleagues

Do figure out the policy the plane used to be operating under, and start from there.
AOPA Insurance Agency. The policy was lapsed for over a year. Which means if a rock hit it, Aerial Aviation would be shelling out bocu bucks, instead of the insurer.

Do consider your business plan for the period of insurance.
Hmmmmmm.
Upon talking to Ray at AOPAIA, I quickly discovered I needed to think through how best to spend the company’s money. I wanted some type of policy that would cover the plane, and let it be flown, but a regular rental policy was expensive.

I suddenly realized why most companies develop business plans early on. Business plans help you, well, plan out your actions – how to incur expenses, off-set costs, develop revenue sources, and a timeframe for all of this. Of course, since there was no financing of the plane, I’d never had to justify my plan to anyone other than my supportive spouse. What, exactly, was my plan? I thought through how to make the business run the first few years at the lowest cost, while I attempted to get some cash flow. I quickly considered my assumptions for renting the plane (aka how much it would be flown).

Assumption 1: Full loss in 2010 = not much flying
Assumption 2: Partial loss/break-even in 2011 = some flying
Assumption 3: Make profit in 2012 = full flying potential

With these assumptions/goals in mind, I determined to develop a better notion for getting a customer base up and running in 2011. One option would be to develop some sort of a training program that was essentially an “intro to aviation” – more than the “Discovery Flight” most of us go on to get a feel for the plane, this would be a full day of understanding the airplane/flight environment – and perhaps I could figure out a way to have multiple students use the plane at a given time. If I was to go that route, I’d need a more comprehensive insurance policy at some point in 2011.

But, for 2010, I just needed something basic: I went with a limited policy that took the plane out of general use. I had just 4 names on the policy, with the possibility of adding one more, and AOPAIA knew the backgrounds of each pilot. We could use it for pleasure or business: personal use only – not for hire/services (e.g., an instructor couldn’t take students up in it, and someone couldn’t rent the plane to transport goods/passengers for fee). Considering how little I anticipated the plane being used in 2010, this made a lot of sense.

In 2011, I’ll have a chance to change the policy to something more comprehensive – but that will be based upon building the customer base.

Funny how a something as mundane as insurance should jumpstart the thought process. . . for now, I’m just happy that Aerial Aviation won’t have to pay for any damages to the aircraft.

The Business of Aviation Part 2: Getting set up, or, How to deal with the government and survive

“I fought the law, and the law won” is not the best mantra for beginning a business, but the mindset of girding one’s loins for a fight is more than apropos. Half-way through what seemed like the interminable FAA form process I had an epiphany for why so many people go into consulting or some other services-based line of business: doing business with a highly-regulated capital asset is tough. Though it might not be quite as grueling as “breakin’ rocks in the hot sun”.

There were a number of moments during the course of 2010 when paperwork won, but by the end of the year, I won, and I am here to tell the story.

The corporation.

The IRS website for establishing a corporation has a brilliant step-by-step online system. The hardest thing for me to figure out was the company name. I considered a variety of options. I asked people’s opinions. A number of folks thought I should name it after myself: Ariel. As luck would have it, another company in New Jersey already had that name. Around 10 p.m., I decided to take a Shakespearian approach to choosing a name, and considering that “a rose by any other name. . .” I chose Aerial Aviation. Click, click, click through the website, and I had my EIN number via PDF. We wanted to set up an S-Corporation (essentially, a “pass-through” entity to the shareholders for all profits/losses). And I managed to file that additional S-Corporation paperwork within the appropriate window of 90 days.

The asset.

I can hardly believe this, even though (1) I know I did it, and (2) I am documenting it for posterity in this blog: I purchased an asset I had never seen. Momentary insanity? Perhaps. But if the company did turn a profit, then it would be considered a brilliant and bold move, based upon intuition. The FAA requires that you submit a bill of sale, as well as change the registration for the plane. Neither of the forms is particularly difficult to fill out. The wait, however, is somewhat arduous, particularly when they stamp and send the registration back to you, informing you that you signed in the wrong place/with the wrong color ink/etc. And, of course, you aren’t supposed to fly the plane without registration. So our lovely plane sat on the West Ramp at HEF throughout much of the first half of 2010.

Setting up the business took me about 4-6 months, total. I could have done it more quickly, perhaps in about 2 months, but I took longer. In the end, I won. I had a business ready to operate. The government’s reward to me? Now I get to pay taxes.

The Business of Aviation Part I: I buy a plane


DC experienced a terrific snowstorm in late December 2009. Around December 21st, four friends met for dinner, to discuss a plane, a business, and the possible return on investment. The two protagonists were Rick, whose idea had started the process, and Ariel, who would carry it out. The respective spouses were along to discuss the investment, and perhaps to add some points of reason.

The idea was rather simple: buy a plane (already in ownership through Rick), transfer to a company, get in rented/leased, make money. Oh, and I’d get to fly it.

A little earlier, Rick had invited me and my husband, Glen (aka GA), out for drinks at Champs, one of the few restaurants still operating during the snowstorm to discuss the possibility of starting a plane business. With about six months of experience in supporting the FAA, I had just started to get acclimated, and develop a sense for my new chosen field of aviation. As is my wont, as soon as I started experiencing a modicum of comfort, I was ready to take something more on. Frankly, I was already sold on the idea of starting my own company – and, perhaps more importantly, I desperately wanted to own a plane. My husband, ever the voice of caution, was in need of convincing. I’ll credit his desire to support my flight and business aspirations, with the resulting business prospects, more than any sound business case that I might have compiled. Some women covet shoes, or jewelry, and these become “splurge” purchases. Others develop plans for the grand house interior redesign. Me? I wanted a plane. And I wanted to be boss.

By the end of 2009, after I wrote a rather larger check, I filled out paperwork on the IRS website to establish Aerial Aviation as a corporation. I recall how easy I thought the process was for setting up a business. As a matter of fact, setting up a business with the IRS is rather simple – it’s dealing with the FAA, and running it that is difficult.

This series will document how to go about setting up a plane business, and the success (!?!) of running it.