“What a blessing it is to be tired in the pursuit of a challenge of your own choosing.”

That quote has stuck with me during this phase of training because it describes exactly where I am right now. Not burnt out. Not complaining. But tired in a good way, the kind of tired that comes from choosing something difficult and committing to it.

The transition from being a commercial student to a CFI student has been the most eye opening part of my training so far. Not because the program suddenly became harder, but because it came with a different level of responsibility.

Commercial Training

At the end of commercial, things felt good. I had a great instructor, and some of the best conversations I’ve had were in the cockpit with him. Cross-country flights were fun and confidence was high. Those flights weren’t just about logging time; they were about refining how I flew and how I thought, always staying one step ahead.

I spent a lot of time tightening things up. Maneuvers and landings needed to be consistent and accurate. The power‑off 180° landing became a major focus. I couldn’t rely on barely meeting standards anymore. Everything became about thinking ahead, precision, and repeatability.

Transitioning to CFI

Starting CFI didn’t feel like a continuation of training, it was more like a shift. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about how well I understood something. It was about whether I could explain it clearly, confidently, and in a way that made sense to someone else.

Ground presentations were the first hurdle. Speaking didn’t come naturally at first. I knew most of the material, but translating knowledge into clear instruction took work. Early presentations were rough. I stumbled, under‑explained, and second guessed myself.

But repetition forced growth. Each presentation made the next one slightly better. I learned how to organize my thoughts, emphasize what actually mattered, and speak with more confidence, which all came from taking the time to prepare each lesson intentionally.

Switching Seats

Teaching in the airplane brought another layer of challenge. Switching from the left seat to the right seat forced me to slow down, think ahead, and verbalize everything.

Teaching maneuvers, landings, and decision‑making made me more aware of my own habits, good and bad. Every explanation exposed gaps and brought clarity.

Learning to Teach

One of the most impactful experiences during this phase didn’t even happen in an official lesson.

My roommate and I were both in CFI, while our other roommate was a private student with a checkride coming up fast. Over the span of about one to two weeks, we essentially taught him the entire private pilot curriculum.

That experience made everything real. We were invested in his success and took responsibility for the outcome. Fundamentals of Instructing stopped being theory. Teaching stopped being hypothetical. We had to adapt constantly by changing explanations, trying different approaches, and finding new ways to get points across when the first explanation didn’t click. It wasn’t just a challenge for him, but also for ourselves to see how well we could teach a new student.

Our roommate struggled with comprehension at times. He was slower, but considering the timeframe and intensity, he did well. That experience only reinforced that effective teaching isn’t about how smart you are, it’s about meeting the student where they are.

Watching him pass his checkride on the first attempt was incredibly rewarding. It made me appreciate all the effort it took to invest in someone else’s success, and in my own growth at the same time.

Forward Thinking, Backwards Planning

CFI required a shift in mindset. I had to start thinking further ahead instead of just focusing on what was right in front of me.

Instead of asking, What do I need to do today? I started asking, What does the end goal look like, and what needs to happen before that?

That applied to everything; presentations, flights, and daily routines.

Planning backwards made it harder to make lazy decisions in the moment. It forced honesty. If I knew where I needed to be, then my actions either supported that goal or didn’t.

I’m not perfect. I fall off routine sometimes. There are days I don’t execute the way I know I should, and getting back on track isn’t always immediate.

But self awareness makes all the difference.

One off day doesn’t turn into a lost week. One mistake doesn’t become an excuse. I’ve learned to recover quicker, adjust, and keep moving.

Throughout this program, I’ve realized that real success is all about accomplishing goals and doing what I said I was going to do — stacking each win, one by one.