Note: The duo of Darin Mays (and Josh Boertje) became Maple River’s first state speech medalists, and as their speech coach, I felt fortunate to recruit him–the kid was in everything. With the pedal to the metal, Mays continued his frenetic pace for another two decades until the pandemic gave him time to reflect on his life.
“My first job out of college was consulting,” Mays interjected in the middle of the interview, “and it was 100% travel. My first project was in New York. I flew into La Guardia (I don’t even know if I had text messages at the time). My roommate left a voice message to tell me that his flight was delayed and said: ‘You need to go to Enterprise. You need to rent the car. You need to drive out to the project on Long Island.’ So I went from being scared to drive on 494 in the Cities to driving a brand new Pontiac, white-knuckled, from La Guardia to Long Island. The onramps? There are no onramps. You have to go from zero to sixty in seconds. That was probably the most traumatic moment in my life”
Life in the Fast Lane
Jumping feet first into the chaos of New York City had been an eight-year buildup for the energetic Maple River and Gustavus Adolphus graduate. The middle child of Ted and Wendy Mays knew he wasn’t the scholar like his older brother Jared, but he did have a natural skill: energy! He funneled that energy into extracurriculars like speech, band, mock trial, track, drama, or as Mays put it, “I feel like there's more activities I was involved with than I wasn't involved with.” The energy he had for activities compensated for his lack of interest in homework. “I remember distinctly having arguments with Mrs Wilde (his mock trial coach) on how I wouldn't do the homework and that pulled my grade down, but then when it came to the test I’d do well on the test. I was like, ‘is the homework really needed?’” Mays confessed that his bad habits about homework continued into college. It wasn’t until his senior year that things changed. “ I didn't figure out my learning style until towards the end of college. There's readers, doers, and talkers. I'm a talker, which is only 10% of the population, so I learned by talking.” In his final semester, he got a 4.0.
The self-described “happy-go-lucky” graduate had no idea how his life would change once out of school. For a small town kid who’d only been on a plane a few times, he found himself traveling on an almost daily basis. “I got burned out extremely quickly. I remember the first month of training I was out in Portland, Oregon and lost almost all confidence in myself because it's just so hard.” From going from zero to sixty back in New York City to chasing after the American Dream with the same energy, Mays found himself struggling. “I didn't like what I was doing. I hated my job.” Despite professional success, Mays began to realize what was wrong. “90% of my time was internal politics, and it was just soul-sucking because like 10% of what I did was actually contributing to a solution and trying to fix the broken healthcare system.”
During the Covid Pandemic, Mays found a solution to his own problem. The former Boy Scout realized how important spending time outside was to his health. “There's something that nature gives me, so I'm trying to go back to my roots.”
Urban Wing
Through therapy and self-reflection, Mays identified the sources of his anxiety, and during the pandemic, he engaged those skills he learned as a Boy Scout. “I just started making stuff and my creative energy came back. I started Urban Wing, which basically sold things on Etsy.” Beginning with trinkets and contraptions to accessorize patio heaters, Mays then discovered his love of a very old tradition: saunas. “I think it changed my life,” Mays claimed and explained how his energetic mind would analyze the sauna to find ways to improve the flawed designs of existing models. After redesigning the old models, Mays felt he’d improved the entire experience. “I sold my first product to a friend, a great Russian couple. I sold the first unit to them without even showing them what the production unit would look like.” From the initial spark of unbridled energy, the flames of popularity quickly began to spread.
Mays believes the moment he captured lightning in a bottle happened during a missed phone call. With his saunas gaining popularity locally in Minneapolis (including selling one to Mayor Jacob Frey), friends began to help the former executive spread his wings into another venture. Ten days before the Minnesota State Fair, Mays was having coffee when he noticed a missed call. Turns out they had a spot for him. Not only did this last minute opportunity give him the confidence to cut ties to his former career, it also reminded him of the boy he’d once been. “That was kind of a big milestone for me. Tying it back to high school, I was in marching band and we always performed at the State Fair. We warmed up in the gravel parking lot right outside the dairy building, so like there are days I was walking in and got teared up and emotional. How many years ago I was just a dorky high schooler playing trumpet, walking through this building, peeing in those bathrooms, and here I am: I have a booth at the state fair.”
Back to His Roots
Mays credits his tight-knit community in Minneapolis for supporting his bold decision to reinvent himself, his entrepreneurship caught the attention of national media outlets, leaving him with a flourishing and successful business. Yet Mays has learned the importance of taking his foot off the accelerator of life. “I think it's been kind of a journey for the last seven years,” Mays explains and how he “went through a life cycle of ‘I'm too busy for family’ and now it's like ‘Okay I need to make time because they're more important.’”
Now, Mays gushes about families of his brother Jared and younger sister Kendra. “I didn't do a good job giving them time, and now it's like I'm trying to make time because I realize how much I screwed up.” The quiet hours of the pandemic also changed Mays’ personal life. His marriage of nine years (and relationship of 15) recently ended. “(The pandemic) sped up the evolution of our relationship, so I don't think it's because of the pandemic we split, but it definitely sped it up. I have a beautiful daughter, seven-year-old Eliana. She's so intelligent; she makes me a better person.”
“I lost a lot of confidence in myself,” Mays explains. “I still think I got like some PTSD from that job.” Mays mentioned how importance confidence can be in making the right decisions in life. Looking back on his high school, he credited getting an A on his sophomore research paper as a transformative moment that allowed him to think of college. He also credited Mr. Rick Peters for giving him unexpected confidence. “Mr Peters kind of did the same thing. He somehow engaged me, which was a big moment because now I've used math a lot with becoming kind of a amateur-taught engineer with making things.” Having found his lost confidence, Mays now looks forward to tinkering in his Minneapolis garage. Ironically, Mays compares his new home in Minneapolis as being a lot like Minnesota Lake: a place where folks know their neighbors and don’t lock their doors. “I mean it's a very safe neighborhood, and you know it's not the elephant graveyard that people think.” His new goals in life: to not wake up to an alarm clock. “I don't want to ever get bored, so I don't plan to ever retire; rather, I'll probably just do different things.”
His advice to seniors about to graduate? “You can do whatever you want. I think the sooner someone can figure out ‘who I am’ it's going to give them confidence. You literally have the choice! So I think that's number one. Number two is don't go to college and pay for all that unless you absolutely know what you want to do.”
Life in 2002
Oscar Winner: Chicago
Top-selling artist: Norah Jones
President: George W. Bush
Viking Season: 6-10
Twins Season: 94-67
Price of gas: $1.44
(Originally published with the Maple River Messenger)
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