I've succeeded at a few things in my health and fitness career:

• I've squatted and deadlifted over 500 lbs
• I finished a 100 mile ultramarathon (with only 3 months of training and never having run more than a 5k before that)
• I squatted 315 lbs 20 times at the end of the 20 rep squat challenge
• I reached sub 10% body fat
• I did one mile of walking lunges in less than 45 minutes (yes it's a real thing)
• I started and played 4 years of collegiate football at a high level

But that list pales in comparison to my failures.

I could bore you with the list of things I've tried and failed at, gave up, or didn't see all the way through.

Maybe that's one of the reasons it's hard to celebrate my accomplishments.

Because I know how many things I set out to do but never followed through on.

I'm not genetically gifted.

I'm not a special athlete that just shows up and excels at everything I do.

My only real secret weapon is this: I'm incredibly consistent.

And that's hard to beat in the long run.

But consistency and follow through wasn't always the case for me.

The Day I Quit Before I Even Started:

I can't help but think back to a summer camp two-a-day football practice.

It was hot and I wanted nothing more to be out of those football pads, showered up, and sleeping on the couch.

But we still had our conditioning left to do: sprints.

These weren't the type of sprints to get you faster.

These were the type of sprints to break you.

How many were we going to run?

As many as the coach thought necessary.

Which all I know is far more than I thought was necessary.

I remember not wanting to run hard.

I knew it was safer to pace myself.

In my head I had already quit.

I was already thinking about napping on the couch.

I remember making it look like I was running hard, but not as hard as I knew I could.

What I Learned From Quitting (And The Pain Of Regret):

When we finally finished I remember listening to our coach talk.

I don't remember how many sprints we ran that day.

I don't remember exactly what my coach talked about that day.

But I remember the general message.

And more importantly I remember how I felt.

Whether he actually said this, or I was hallucinating from all the sprints, I'll never know.

But I remember the message of not leaving anything on the field.

That we were never going to get that practice back.

And as miserable as those sprints were, we were never going to get those back either.

Anything that was left on the field was a missed opportunity to get better.

I think that sticks with me, because how true is that of most things in life?

I'm not sure why that specific practice stood out to me.

One 'bad' practice wasn't going to ruin me.

But the sad thing was that I really couldn't remember the last time I really gave it my all before that practice.

I found it easier to coast, to get by, to do good enough, and to hold back.

I don't know how many practices I missed taking advantage of.

Afraid of the short-term hurt in my legs or my lungs as I ran sprints.

You might be scared of some short-term hurt like I was:

• Are you afraid of giving it your all?
• Do you think the hurt is going to be too much to follow through on?
• Are you more concerned with what you'll have to give up than what you'll get by really going for it?

If you're not exactly where you want to be when it comes to your health, your fitness, or your body - I'm guessing you've quit some things over the years like I have.

Maybe that's a diet (or a dozen) that you've tried over the years when trying to lose weight.

Maybe that's a gym you joined but never really stayed consistent with.

Maybe it's the treadmill, Peloton, jumprope, or home gym that's sitting mostly untouched in the garage or the other room.

The bad news?

It sucks to quit.

It's easy to dismiss as 'no big thing' to other people, but internally you feel guilty knowing you have more inside of you.

The good news?

All it takes is one success, no matter how small, to turn it all around.

And to get one success, all it takes is one decision.

I remember changing the way I showed up for sprints from that day forward.

I remember that carrying into showing up as a freshman and crushing the toughest conditioning tests we had for our college summer camp.

Which got me noticed and led me to being one of less than 5 freshman to get consistent playing time.

You don't know what holding back is costing you until you give yourself permission to really go for it.

Very few people will know when you're holding back or when you quit something.

Sometimes no one knows but you.

I've been there, and I'm convinced it hurts even worse when I'm the only one that knows I'm holding back.

Give yourself permission to go for it.

It might hurt. 

It might require you to change a few things.

But you'll never see what's possible until you really go all in.

If this is speaking to you, message me and let me know what you're ready to finally commit to.

Even if no one else is, I'll be in your corner.

Dave