I grew up in southern California, about an hour inland from the great beaches at Newport and Laguna. The rite of passage for teens in my part of the world was to get your drivers license the day you turned 16, then load up your car with friends and head to the beach.

That’s how we all spent our summer weekends — at the beach. We listened to rock and roll on our transistor radios. We slathered our skin with a combination of baby oil and iodine, to get that perfect color tan. We sprayed lemon juice in our hair, because it was supposed to give us natural blond highlights.

But going to the beach wasn’t really about getting a tan, and it certainly wasn’t about swimming. It was about meeting boys.

I was a good swimmer and enjoyed a brisk dip in the Pacific. But most of my girlfriends didn’t go in the water much. Why? Because if the point of going to the beach was to meet boys, you didn’t want to do that with wet hair.

One late summer day, I broke the first rule of water sports. Tired of being hot and sticky (and not having met any cute boys), I went for a swim–alone.

I swam out a ways, kicked around just enough to cool off and looked back to shore. I had a hard time seeing where my friends were perched on their beach towels.

I started swimming toward the beach, kicking and stroking until I was out of breath, but it seemed like I was getting nowhere. I swam harder, until my legs and arms burned. Exhausted, I tread water for a minute, to rest and once again check my bearings. Nothing on the beach looked familiar.

What I did see was the lfeguard station. Flapping on top was a red flag. That flag meant riptide.

Now I was a little scared. I realized i was caught in a strong undercurrent that was pulling me farther out and father down the beach, no matter how hard I swam.

Once again, I began swimming hard and once again I wore out. As I tread water, a large wave tossed me around and when I surfaced, strangely I ended up next to a young man in the water. Yes, one of those cute boys we’d love to meet. But not this way!

And you know what I did? I very politely asked if I could just rest on his arm for a minute. Now here I am, drowning, and still too prideful to ask for what I needed, which was to be towed to shore, even if I would definitely look like a un-cool.

My rest was brief because another wave separated us. And after another hard swim toward the beach and getting nowhere, I finally did what any sane person would have done 30 minutes earlier. I waved my tired arms and yelled for help. The lifeguards, trained to look for fools like me, spotted me, and a big hunk of a guy came out to rescue me.

I learned an important lesson that day: working hard doesn’t always get you where you want to go. Working harder isn’t always the answer.

Sometimes you have to ask for help. Sometimes you have to admit you’re not Superwoman. Darn, I hate it when that happens!

Sometimes, it’s time for a new strategy.

Working with female business owners, I see many women just like me. When the going gets tough, they apply more steam, more will power. When a problem arises, they work harder to solve it. They work until they are exhausted.

The most important thing we need to learn on business is HOW to solve the problems and challenges we face. Working harder isn’t always the answer.

If you are in the weeds (well, not if, but when), instead of applying more steam, do the counterintuitive thing. Back up and take the longer view.

President Eisenhower said, “Sometimes when we can’t solve a problem, we have to make it bigger.” He wasn’t really trying to create huge problems. What he meant was, we have to look at the bigger picture to get a broader perspective.

Look for the “solution after next” which, in chess, is called down-board thinking. The players think three or four moves ahead. Can you skip over a short-term fix and jump to a longer term solution?

Call in the lifeguard. Ask for help from someone who is experienced and wise. Reach out to people you trust. Sit down over a cup of coffee or lunch and talk it over.

Brainstorm, look for creative options and consider them all. Don’t get stuck in assuming you have to do things like you’ve always done them.

Maybe it’s time to write your own job description...work at the highest and best use of your skills!

Above all, get honest with yourself about your fears. It’s your fears that keep you stuck. I literally nearly drowned in my fear of looking weak or un-cool.

When your arms and legs are burning, when you’re out of breath, working harder may not be the answer. Its time for a new strategy.

And never swim alone.