7UP: Corn to the Left, Parrots Ahead, and Whipped Cream Everywhere (Week #7)

Seven weeks in, and Sioux Falls turf still finds new ways to surprise us. You’d think by now we’d have seen it all — but this week alone brought talking parrots, a newspaper debut (two, actually), a new Minnesota Twins fan, and a whipped-cream-based team competition that got a little too enthusiastic in the best way possible.

By now, the rhythm of Southwestern life has settled into our bones: up early, coffee if we’re lucky, hours of walking, knocking, talking, laughing, getting told no, getting told yes, and somewhere in between, growing a little braver than we were the day before. Week 7 didn’t slow that rhythm down one bit. If anything, it reminded us why we keep choosing to knock on one more door, even when our feet are begging us to stop.

Let’s start with Mari, because honestly, nothing this week topped her afternoon with ten parrots. Not one or two — ten, all trained to do tricks, in someone’s home like a tiny feathered circus. One parrot had apparently mastered the art of hospitality, cheerfully saying “hello” to anyone who walked in. The other parrot had… a different vocabulary. Let’s just say it skipped the pleasantries and went straight for a phrase that will not be repeated here, but that had the whole team laughing when Mari told the story. Turf has a way of humbling you, and apparently that includes being told off by a bird.

Parvin, meanwhile, has moved out into the villages, which means his days now involve a lot more driving and a lot less walking between houses. He’s summed up the scenery about as perfectly as anyone could: “To the left, corn; to the right, corn; and behind, soybeans.” If South Dakota ever needs a new slogan, we’ve got one ready. But the real headline — literally — is that Parvin made it into the local newspaper last week. And not to be outdone, Gabriel followed him into print this week, showing up in the Lennox Independent. Two team members, two headlines, one very real possibility that Team 7UP is quietly becoming local celebrities in South Dakota. For all the right reasons, we should add.

Michael made a headline of his own this week, even if it’s only official within our group chat: he’s now the proud owner of a Minnesota Twins hat, which apparently makes him a Minnesota Twins fan. We’ll let the state decide if that counts.

Not every story this week came with laughter attached, though. Luise had her patience and problem-solving tested twice by bike trouble — not exactly convenient when your bike is how you get to your houses. But if you know Luise, you know she didn’t panic. She stayed calm, worked through it, and got back on the road both times. And in the middle of all that, one homeowner left her a note letting her know there was a supper waiting for her — a small, unexpected kindness that showed up exactly when she needed it. It’s easy to talk about resilience in the abstract; it’s another thing to watch a teammate quietly demonstrate it twice in one week, and have the neighborhood look out for her along the way.

Every door really does teach us something, whether it ends in a sale, a genuine conversation, or just a smile and a “not today.” This week reminded us that some of the best moments on turf have nothing to do with the sale at all — they’re the parrot encounters, the corn-field jokes, the newspaper photographers who show up unannounced, the small kindnesses from homeowners who didn’t have to be kind at all. We keep learning that the people of South Dakota are funnier, warmer, and more unpredictable than we ever expected, and we’re grateful for every single one of them.

This week’s spotlight goes to the whole team, because honestly, everyone earned it.

To the one who turned a parrot’s rude outburst into the story of the summer, curiosity and warmth clearly aren’t going anywhere. To the one who keeps showing up with steady, positive energy no matter how long the day runs, thank you for being the glue. To the one who stayed calm through two separate bike breakdowns and just quietly solved both, that’s resilience in its purest, most unglamorous form. To the one adapting to village life, driving past corn fields in every direction and still bringing humor to the long stretches between houses, your work ethic hasn’t slipped one bit. To the one who keeps saying yes to strangers and letting unexpected moments turn into real conversations, that openness is what makes this whole summer worth it. To the one who showed hospitality all summer and is now, quite literally, a local headline, we’re not surprised people want to write about you. And to the one who stays composed and funny no matter what a door throws at them, you make every conversation better just by being in it.

But if we’re being honest, the real spotlight of Week 7 belongs to Pie-in-the-Eye.

Girls versus boys, one simple rule: whoever landed the most sit-downs during the week would get to end it by covering the other team’s faces in whipped cream. What started as a lighthearted little competition turned into a full week of trash talk, strategic scheduling, and everyone suddenly a lot more motivated to book that extra appointment. The girls pulled ahead, and by the end of the week, the boys knew exactly what was coming.

And it delivered. Whipped cream everywhere — on faces, in hair. Nobody was spared, nobody complained, and the photos from that afternoon might be some of our favorites from the entire summer. It was silly, it was messy, and it was exactly the kind of moment that reminds us why this team works so well together: we can grind all week, knock on hundreds of doors, and still find a reason to laugh until we’re crying in someone’s front yard.

That’s the spirit of 7UP. Hard work, real growth, and never taking ourselves too seriously.

All seven of us spent Sunday together, and it turned into one of the best days of the summer. Gabriel took us to visit the family he’d stayed with at the very start of the summer — the only one of us who knew them beforehand — and they welcomed the rest of the team like we’d been friends all along. We played tennis, watched the World Cup final together, celebrated Spain’s win over Argentina, cooled off in the pool, and ended the day with pizza. It wasn’t just a day off. It was generosity, new friendships, and laughter — exactly what we needed to recharge before another week on turf.

To our families, friends, and everyone following along back home — thank you for cheering us on from thousands of miles away. Every message means more than you know.

Seven weeks down, and we’re more convinced than ever: this summer was never just about knocking on doors. It’s about becoming braver, building friendships that will outlast this summer, and collecting stories we’ll be telling for years to come.

Onward to Week 8.

Team 7UP

7UP Local Celebrities, Ring Doorbell Diplomacy, and the Art of Slowing Down

Six weeks in, and if you’d told us back in May that we’d be riding in the backs of trucks, chatting through doorbells, and reading about ourselves in the newspaper, we might have laughed you off the porch. And yet here we are — Team 7UP, slightly sunburnt, thoroughly seasoned, and somehow still finding new ways to be surprised by South Dakota.

Week six had all the ingredients we’ve come to expect from life on turf: long days that stretch out golden and endless, doors that test our nerve, and people who remind us — over and over — that kindness shows up in the most unexpected packages. But it also had a little something extra this week. Local fame. A newspaper feature. A dog with better footwork than most professional athletes. And a Sunday that taught us just as much as any doorstep conversation could.

By now, the rhythm of our days is second nature — up early, out on turf, knock, smile, talk, listen, repeat, until the South Dakota sun finally dips low enough to send us home. But “routine” is a funny word for a job where absolutely nothing is routine. Every door is its own small adventure, and every conversation leaves its mark, whether it ends in a sale, a laugh, or just a genuine human moment on a stranger’s front step.

This week reminded us, once again, that growth doesn’t happen in one big dramatic leap. It happens in the small stuff — the doors we almost didn’t knock on, the conversations we didn’t expect to enjoy, the moments we’ll be telling stories about for years.

Let’s start with our resident newspaper star: Parvin made it into the local paper this week, and we’ve decided Team 7UP is officially transitioning into local celebrities — making headlines for all the right reasons, thank you very much. Watch out, South Dakota; we’re famous now (in at least one zip code).

Matthias had a week that honestly sounds made up. He watched a man get completely “ankle broken” by his own dog mid-walk — the kind of wipeout that deserves a slow-motion replay. He rode standing in the back of a pickup truck like he was in a movie. A man he’d met weeks ago spotted him, stopped his car in the middle of the road just to say hello, and cheerfully caused a small traffic jam in the process. And in classic Southwestern fashion, a simple lemonade purchase from a young entrepreneur turned into a family dinner invitation the very next day. You really can’t make this stuff up.

Michael met a homeowner who was so committed to a comfortable conversation that she brought out a foldable chair just so she could sit while grilling him with questions about literally everything under the sun. After a thorough interrogation, her final verdict? Barnes & Noble has the best sales strategy in the business. Not the ending Michael expected, but certainly one he won’t forget. Michael, who had just spent ten minutes politely surviving this chair-side inquisition, was not about to go down like that. One glance at the actual numbers of families buying the books, and her confident stare cracked just slightly. Final score: Michael 1, Barnes & Noble 0.

Gabriel, meanwhile, discovered a whole new frontier in door-to-door sales: the Ring doorbell conversation. He sat comfortably on the porch, chatting away with a homeowner who never actually opened the door — pure 2026 sales technique. Later in the week, he watched the city’s mosquito-control truck roll through, trailing its thick cloud of insecticide, and dryly joked it gave off some seriously eerie vibes. Dark humor is just part of surviving the summer heat and the mosquitoes that come with it.

If there’s one thing every one of these stories has in common, it’s this: people will always surprise you. A dog can humble a grown man. A stranger can stop traffic just to say hi. A lemonade stand can turn into a dinner invite. We walk up to hundreds of doors, and every single one holds a tiny, unrepeatable story — we just have to be brave enough to knock.

This week was also Mom’s Week, and we want to give a huge, heartfelt congratulations to Parvin, Gabriel, and Liisa for their outstanding results. You three made your moms proud this week, and honestly, you made all of us proud too.

But recognition isn’t just about numbers — it’s about who we are as a team. So here’s a little spotlight for every single one of us:

  • Mari — steady, thoughtful, and always the calm in the storm when the week gets hard.
  • Liisa — collector of gifts, hearts, and good stories, and a reminder that warmth opens doors.
  • Luise — quietly resilient, showing up with the same determination every single day and a contagious laugh.
  • Parvin — now officially newspaper-famous, and still humble about it.
  • Matthias — our magnet for the unbelievable, turning ordinary days into main character energy.
  • Gabriel — quick wit, quicker comebacks, and somehow always finding the funny side of a hard day.
  • Michael — dependable, hardworking, and always ready with an “Do you wanna guess?” that echoes down the street.

After a week like that, we did something a little different this Sunday: nothing. No road trips, no new towns, no adventures to chase. Just us, the house, and the pool. We floated, we laughed, we ordered food and ate it together, soaking in the simple joy of each other’s company.

These slower days matter just as much as the exciting ones. They’re the glue that holds a team together, the quiet recharge that gets us ready to knock on a hundred more doors next week.

As we close the book on week six, we’re already turning our attention to something a little different for the week ahead — and it has nothing to do with turf strategy or sales numbers. Our focus for next week is simple, but honestly harder than any door: talk to yourself like you talk to your best friend.

Anyone who’s spent a summer knocking on doors knows the voice in your head can get loud — and not always kind. After a slow morning or a string of “not interested”s, it’s easy to slip into self-criticism instead of self-support. So next week, we’re flipping the script. If a friend had a rough morning on turf, we wouldn’t tell them they’re failing — we’d remind them they’re doing something incredibly brave, that one hard hour doesn’t define the day, and that they should probably grab some water and shake it off. We’re going to try extending ourselves that same grace.

It sounds small, but we have a feeling this one might end up teaching us just as much as any doorstep ever has.

Onward and upward — Team 7UP.

7UP: Fireworks, Flat Earth, and a Mustang Named Trouble

Five weeks in, and Team 7UP has officially stopped flinching at thunder. If week one taught us that growth doesn’t knock politely, week five taught us that neither does South Dakota weather. Somewhere on turf this week, a teammate got caught in a full hour of rain. Somewhere else, another got a short but sharp burst of rain and hail that had them sprinting for the nearest porch. And on the very same days, in the very same state, someone else was melting in genuinely brutal heat. Same team, wildly different weather realities — that’s just how this summer works now.

The rhythm is fully set at this point. Wake up, drive to eat breakfast, execs, drive until your legs stop asking questions, and somewhere in there have a conversation with a total stranger that either goes beautifully or goes nowhere — and you’ve got about four seconds to figure out which before the next door. Comfort zones don’t really exist for us anymore. We just call it Tuesday.

And the truth is, every door still teaches you something, win or lose. That was never more obvious than this week.

Matthias had one of those weeks where America just kept handing him things. He crossed paths with not one but two different salesmen named Austin, both — in his words — “super cool guys.” Somewhere along the way he also picked up an unofficial alias of his own, getting called “Mateo” more than once, and on the 4th of July itself he came agonizingly close to selling a family on fireworks, which feels almost too perfectly on-theme to be true. By the end of it all he’d also collected an entire bag full of souvenirs, because apparently that’s just what happens to Matthias now.

Luise added another entry to the team’s growing collection of things people have earnestly explained to her, this time during a sit-down inside a family’s living room, when the homeowner spent the rest of the demo walking her through why the earth is actually flat. She stayed for the whole thing, nodding along and quietly questioning everything, and walked out with a story that is now permanently part of team lore. She also debuted an outfit for the 4th of July that the rest of us are still talking about.

Parvin, meanwhile, had maybe the wildest afternoon of anyone’s summer so far. After a good sit-down, the dad of the house offered him a ride in his old Mustang — and what started as a polite spin around the block turned into fifteen minutes cruising through town, capped off with an actual burnout. “It was crazy,” he said, and honestly, we believe every word.

Liisa kept up her legendary reputation for unlikely cargo, hauling a waffle machine, a table lamp, and — in a “bigger or better” showdown for the ages — an entire hammock down the street, all while adding yet another Bible to her already impressive collection.

MMichael finally had his own gift-week moment, walking away with a fancy water bottle, a set of firecrackers, and a 12-in-1 tool he is already treating like a prized possession. He also came face to face with a dog that looked like it had lost track of its own size — eight months old, 125 pounds, and built like a small horse. He survived. The dog, presumably, did not even notice.

Gabriel, meanwhile, ended up talking to a high school principal — and after just five minutes, the principal was the one singing the praises of College Entrance Advantage and the rest of our products, unprompted. Turns out even the person running the school thinks what we’re selling is worth having.

Mari, true to form, brought full effort and full laughter to every conversation this week, and by Friday had apparently earned herself a slightly unusual walk as a badge of honor.

The 4th of July hit different out here. We sat down together for a real team dinner, watched the sky light up with fireworks, and got a genuine, unfiltered taste of American independence spirit — loud, warm, and unapologetically proud. As you can see in the photos, it’s a night none of us are going to forget anytime soon. We also snuck in a well-earned trip to a waterpark, because even the most determined salespeople need a day to just be kids again.

Behind the Mustang burnouts, the flat-earth theories, and Liisa’s ever-expanding gift collection, there’s still a mountain of actual work holding this whole summer together. Here’s how week five shook out:

MetricLast Week
Doors Knocked3 965
Calls Made1 956
Demos Done1 275
Sitdowns489

Bring on the next storm, the next stranger with a wild theory about the planet, the next Mustang idling at the curb with the engine still warm. Team 7UP didn’t come this far to slow down now — we came to get louder, braver, and a little more unstoppable with every door. Let’s go. 🚪🔥✨

— Team 7UP

7UP Close: Beards, Gifts, and the Man Who Got Dragged

Week four. We are four weeks in, and if the first week taught us that growth doesn’t knock politely, week four taught us that neither do the strangers. Or the dogs. Or the men trying to recruit us into the automotive industry.

But let’s start from the beginning.

There’s something that happens after a few weeks on the turf — you stop being surprised that people are surprising. You tell yourself you expect the unexpected, right up until a man gets dragged past you down a residential street by a dog the size of a small car, and you realize that no, actually, you were not prepared for that. Michael stood there, watched it happen, and moved on — because at this point in the summer, that’s just a Tuesday.

What made it better was what came later: the smallest dog any of us have ever seen. Confident. Unbothered. Living its best life. He thought about both dogs for a while. Somewhere between those two animals is probably a decent metaphor for this summer, though we haven’t quite worked out what it is yet. Michael also spotted two gorgeous vintage cars — a Buick and a Chevelle — parked at the curb like they’d driven in from another decade. On a day like that, you take the beauty where you find it.

Parvin had a solid interaction at a house this week, said his goodbyes, and walked away with the confident stride of someone who had just nailed it. He got halfway down the block before realizing his book bag was still inside — the family had taken it in. Which meant turning around, walking back up the same driveway, and knocking the same door to ask for his own bag back. The family was gracious. Parvin was humble. The bag was retrieved. We have been informed this will never happen again, and we have chosen to believe him.

Matthias, meanwhile, was having what can only be described as a variety show of a day. It started with a Ukrainian woman opening her door and, before he had much of a chance to say anything, pulling him into a real hug. The kind that comes from genuine warmth, from someone who perhaps recognized something in the face of a young person far from home, still showing up, still knocking. He said it was one of those moments that just stays with you, and we believe him completely.

Later, a man offered him a job at a car dealership on the spot — no interview, no process, just a sincere offer extended on a residential doorstep in South Dakota. Matthias said no, though the alternate timeline where he said yes has kept us entertained for days. And then, as if the day needed one final chapter, he met a man with the biggest beard any of us have ever seen. Not big in a casual way. Big in a way that suggests a decision was made years ago and has never once been reconsidered. There’s something almost inspiring about that, if you think about it long enough.

And then there is Liisa. We have to talk about Liisa, because at this point it would be irresponsible not to. Week after week, at door after door, something happens that simply does not happen for the rest of us. This week, a family gave her a fancy water bottle. A good one. Unprompted, unearned in any technical sense, just offered — because apparently that is what Americans do when Liisa shows up at their door.

The rest of the team is out here running every technique we know, and Liisa is out here being gifted quality hydration equipment by strangers who met her four minutes ago. We have stopped trying to explain it. We have accepted it as one of the fixed truths of this summer, like the heat, and the long drives, and the fact that Parvin will probably leave something behind at least one more time before August.

Every week needs a moment where you step away from the doors and just breathe, and this week that moment came on Sunday at Falls Park. Sioux Falls, as it turns out, is named after something genuinely worth naming a city after. The waterfall sits right in the middle of the park, loud and completely unbothered by everything around it — the kind of thing that makes you stop mid-sentence and just look.

What week four gave us, more than anything, was a reminder that this summer keeps feeling bigger than it looked on paper. We came here thinking the job was about what happens at the door. Turns out the door is just the beginning — it’s everything behind it that matters. A hug you didn’t see coming. A bag retrieved with a smile. A man and his dog going somewhere urgent. A water bottle handed over for no reason other than kindness. And a waterfall on a Sunday afternoon, reminding you that some things are just beautiful, simply and completely, without needing to mean anything more than that.

The books are the reason we knock. The people — and the occasional waterfall — are the reason we remember.

Behind the retrieved book bags, the enormous beards, and the mysterious gift-giving tendencies of the American public, there is an unyielding mountain of hard work. A few strange encounters on the turf have never once stopped Team 7UP from putting in the numbers — and this week was no different.

Here is exactly how the raw data from Week 4 shook out compared to our cumulative, all-time stats so far:

MetricLast Week
Doors Knocked4 409
Calls Made1 953
Demos Done1 284
Sitdowns479

Week five is already here. The doors are already waiting. Somewhere out there is another Ukrainian woman, another man with a beard, another family who is going to hand Liisa something wonderful for no reason, and another dog — large or small, we genuinely cannot predict — who is going to make someone’s afternoon very interesting.

We wouldn’t have it any other way. Here’s to week five, and to Team 7UP, still standing. 🚪✨

— Team 7UP

7 UP’s Journey Into The Unknown (Week #3)

They say true growth happens when you leave your comfort zone. They also say that if you spend more than three weeks knocking on doors in one place, the locals start recognizing you and inviting you to their barbecues – which is terrible for our sales metrics.

Sunday officially marked the arrival of The Great Migration. We spent the early morning hours packing up our entire lives, our massive boxes of books, and whatever lingering fragments of sanity we had left. It was a morning soundtracked by emotional, deeply grateful goodbyes to our absolutely saintly host families in Rapid City. These wonderful people took us in, tolerated our erratic direct-sales schedules, and treated us like their own. Saying goodbye was genuinely tough.

Leaving them felt less like a standard moving day and more like Christopher McCandless heading Into the Wild – except, you know, we had air conditioning, a fleet of sedans, and a trunk full of educational literature instead of a tragic lack of preparation. We traded the rocky peaks of Rapid City for the uncharted territory of Sioux Falls. The trek across South Dakota wasn’t just a drive; it was a transition into a wild safari of the weird, the wonderful, and the flat-out baffling.

Matthias had the kind of week that belongs in a book. It opened with him rounding a corner and finding a cat in the middle of eating a squirrel – calmly, on a front lawn, in broad daylight. He stood there for a moment, recalibrated his understanding of American suburbia, and knocked the next door anyway. Later, a group of Native Americans stopped him on the street and asked for a photo, telling him he was simply too cute to walk past without documentation. He is not handling this memory modestly, and we fully support that. Somewhere in between, he found his favorite car – a vintage beauty in someone’s driveway that looked like it had been waiting specifically for him – and climbed right in.

While Matthias was discovering his modeling potential, Gabriel was capturing the true “Duality of Man” on the turf. He balanced his poetic side – taking breathtaking, cinematic photos of the South Dakota sunset – with his chaotic side, pairing those pristine skies with high-sass selfies and a hilarious photo pointing his backside directly at the camera to summarize his feelings on a tough rejection.

Liisa’s week produced the quote of the summer. She was walking her route when she looked up and saw two dogs standing on a roof. Not the porch. The actual roof. Just up there, watching the street, completely unbothered. Her reaction was immediate: “I knew that in the States things are different, but I did not know that they were this different.”

Luise, meanwhile, encountered a doorbell that sounds like the opening of a horror film – not a chime, not a friendly ding, that sound – and then had her bicycle fall completely apart under a well-meaning prospect who had confidently offered to fix it, declared it repaired, and taken it out for a test ride to prove his work. Full structural collapse, mid-ride, while Luise watched from the driveway. There is no photo of the exact moment, which is the only real tragedy.

Michael’s week had a quieter energy – good sky, a squirrel on a fence that looked like it owned the whole street, and a selfie with a talking parrot at someone’s door. Not a parrot making vague noise. One that made eye contact and spoke. As someone on the team put it: we came to sell books and ended up making friends with a bird.

And then, as if to bring everything back to earth – leadership arrived and filmed themselves dancing to “Wiggle.” Full commitment. Zero irony. Every single second of it.

Behind the talking parrots, the imploding bicycles, and the roof-dwelling canine security guards, there is an unyielding mountain of hard work. We absolutely refused to let the anticipation of a 350-mile relocation slow down our momentum during our final days in Rapid City.

Here is exactly how the raw data from Week 3 shook out compared to our cumulative, all-time stats so far:

MetricLast Week (Week 3)All Time So Far
Doors Knocked5 13011 247
Calls Made2 2515 028
Demos Done1 4653 244
Sitdowns5511 139

New city, new doors, new stories already forming at the edges. Week 3 reminded us that growth doesn’t always happen at the destination – sometimes it happens on the drive, in the goodbye, in the first night somewhere new where you’re figuring it out anyway. Mari, Liisa, Luise, Parvin, Matthias, Gabriel, Michael – seven different versions of the same summer, happening inside one team of independent leaders.

Sioux Falls doesn’t know what’s coming. Same team, new town, more journey ahead. 🚗

7UP Bubbles, Bumps, and a Whole Lot of “First Time For Everything.”

Well, we made it. Seven days in, and Team 7UP is still standing – sunburnt, slightly blistered, but standing. If you’d told us a week ago that knocking on a stranger’s door could feel like both the scariest and most exciting thing we’ve ever done, we might not have believed you. But here we are, and what a ride it’s already been.

Welcome to our first official blog post from the road. Grab a coffee, settle in, and let us take you through Week 1 of our Southwestern Advantage summer.

Our days start earlier than most of us are used to. Turns out “door-to-door” really does mean door to door, and by the end of some days, our legs were filing official complaints.

The weather this week couldn’t make up its mind. One day we were melting under a relentless sun, sweat-soaked shirts and all, and the very next day we were pulling on jackets against a sudden cold snap, with a bit of rain thrown in just to keep things interesting. South Dakota, it seems, likes to keep us guessing.

But here’s what surprised us most: every single door – yes, no, or “please don’t come back” – taught us something. Sometimes it was about our pitch. Sometimes it was about ourselves. And sometimes it was simply a reminder that rejection isn’t personal, it’s just Tuesday.

This week really hammered home that this job isn’t about selling – it’s about people. Every one of us walked away with a story, a lesson, or at least a good laugh.

Liisa reflected on something we all felt deeply this week: how having an amazing team makes everything easier. “It makes the mornings and nights funner,” she said, “and it’s like a reminder that we are in this together, while each of us is writing their own story.” Honestly, hard to put it better than that.

Matthias had one of the funniest moments of the week – a dog that wanted to be pet non-stop, to the point where he genuinely couldn’t leave the doorstep. Between giggles, he shared the bigger lesson he took from the week: having a positive attitude and not being too harsh on yourself is what helps the most. “At least with me,” he added with a grin.

Michael had a quieter but powerful realization this week: he found himself genuinely grateful just to be alive. He met so many amazing people that it made everything worth it – sometimes, he said, one person can turn an entire day around.

Liisa also came back with quite the haul this week – two bibles, a statue of Jesus, and a Christian-themed under-plate mat, among other things. She’s joked that at this rate, she’ll be “really religious” by the end of the summer. We’re not entirely sure what the families are trying to tell her, but we love the generosity (and the comedy).

And then there was Matthias’s encounter with a very enthusiastic dog who decided he simply could not leave – the pup wanted pets and wanted them forever. Matthias laughed it off and said the real lesson of the week wasn’t about the dog at all: it was learning to keep a positive attitude and not be too hard on yourself when things don’t go perfectly. Words to live by, honestly.

And then there’s Gabriel and Michael’s new favorite hobby: standing at the door and dramatically yelling “IS ANYBODY HOME?!” the moment a knock goes unanswered. What started as a joke has now become a full bit, complete with sound effects and increasingly theatrical delivery. No word yet on whether it’s improved their numbers, but it’s definitely improved team morale. Also, would you rather eat a pound of a brick or a matter baby? 😉

As you can see in the photos, these moments – funny, heartfelt, or completely unexplainable – are what make this week feel real. Strangers becoming part of our story, one doorstep at a time.

On Sunday, we took a trip to Mount Rushmore – and wow. Seeing those faces carved into the mountainside in person hit differently than any postcard or photo ever could. There was something almost surreal about standing there, in the middle of our first big adventure away from home, looking up at a monument to ambition and legacy.

As you can see in the photos, the views were stunning – but more than that, it felt like a much-needed reminder of why we’re here: to challenge ourselves, grow, and create something we’ll remember for the rest of our lives.

Our Sunday trip to Rushmore doubled as our team reflection day – equal parts adventure and gut-check. Standing in front of something so massive and permanent made our own first-week wobbles feel a little smaller, and our goals for Week 2 a little clearer: more confidence at the door, faster pivots when things don’t go to plan, and continuing to lean on each other – because, as Mari reminded us, we’re in this together.

Week 1 taught us that growth doesn’t knock politely – it shows up uninvited, a little messy, and completely worth it. We’re tired, we’re learning, and we’re just getting started.

Here’s to Week 2, and to Team 7UP continuing to turn nerves into courage, one door at a time. 🚪✨

7 UP! All the way up! Sales school + week 0

There’s a moment – somewhere between the fourth role-play of the morning and the realization that you genuinely cannot feel your legs anymore – when you look around the room and think: okay, this is actually happening. That was Sales School in Nashville, Tennessee. Seven people who already knew each other, standing together at the edge of something genuinely bigger than anything we’d done before.

Welcome to the official first chapter of Team 7UP’s summer story.

If you imagined Sales School as a breezy orientation with some motivational posters and a team lunch, we are here to lovingly correct that picture. The schedule was relentless. Early mornings, packed sessions, constant movement. The kind of week where you go to bed already reviewing what you’ll practice tomorrow, and wake up wondering if you ever stopped.

But here’s the thing nobody warns you about: the exhaustion felt good. Every early alarm, every rehearsal, every moment of stepping in front of the room when you’d rather disappear into your chair – it was all pointing somewhere. Experienced Southwestern leaders walked us through the real stuff: not just the product, not just the pitch, but the mindset. How to handle a door that closes fast. How to reset after a rough hour. How to keep showing up when showing up is the hardest part.

“Every challenge during Sales School was a rehearsal, not a test. The real summer was still ahead – and we were becoming ready for it.”

Our name isn’t just a fun reference (though yes, the fizzy drink parallel is very much intentional – we’re bubbly, we lift things up, and we go well with everything). 7UP means seven people, fully committed, moving upward together. And somewhere between the shared meals, the late-night conversations, and the moments of genuine “I can’t believe I just did that” – we became a team in the truest sense.

Mari, Liisa, Luise, Parvin, Matthias, Gabriel, and Michael. Seven completely different people with different backgrounds, different fears, and different strengths. By the end of the week, those differences weren’t dividing us – they were the whole point.

Gabriel: 
Watching our group come together over just a few days was my favorite part of Sales School. Seeing everyone buy into the vision, support each other, and push toward the same goal. That team spirit carried straight into the field, and seeing it show up in the hard moments made it all worth it.

Liisa:
My favorite memory from Sales School is all of us singing together in the ballroom. One of those simple moments that somehow says everything about who we are as a team.

Matthias:
My favorite moment was when we sat down and shared our WHYs - completely honest, straight from the heart. What surprised me most? I can make people laugh, and people genuinely enjoy being around me. That was something I hadn't expected to discover this summer.

Mari:
My core memories are the morning meetings full of fresh knowledge and the approach sessions - brutally difficult, but the moments I felt most alive. And the roommate ceremony is something I'll never forget

Parvin:
Getting a photo with Dave Brown and hearing him speak was my favorite moment - so many ideas, so much energy. What surprised me most was my own calm consistency. This work feels like part of me, and that quiet realization pushed me to want to go even harder.

Luise:
I was genuinely proud of everyone. Sales School isn't easy, and watching every single person keep pushing with a good attitude, day after day, meant a lot to me.

Michal:

I loved every bit of the intensity. Sun, rain, all of it. Schedule and attitude above everything, always. But my favorite moment was assignment night, when we made a pledge to our roommates, like some kind of sales school sorority. Unforgettable.

One of our favorite moments of the whole week had nothing to do with training. On June 2nd, right in the middle of Sales School, we got to celebrate Gabriel’s birthday. There is something genuinely special about spending a birthday surrounded by people who are becoming your people – in a city that doesn’t sleep, at the start of an adventure that’s just getting started. Gabriel, we hope your birthday in Nashville was one to remember. (We’re fairly sure it was.)

Sales School is over. The real summer is beginning.

Somewhere out there, families are going about their mornings with no idea that one of us is about to knock on their door. Kids who might flip through our books for the first time. Conversations that haven’t happened yet. Doors we haven’t reached. Miles we haven’t driven. Versions of ourselves we haven’t met.

Team 7UP is ready. We are nervous and excited and everything in between, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.