“What if I told you that you were only 10 more losses away from winning. What would you do then?”
What I saw / heard/ read this week –
I watched a clip of Eddie Hall talking about failure—not casually, not motivationally, but honestly.
Year after year, he trained for one thing: to be the strongest man in the world.
And year after year, he didn’t get it.
Second.
Third.
Fourth.
Fifth.
Each result chipped away at him.
1. Why it resonated with me
What struck me wasn’t the physical grind—it was the mental cost of almost.
Giving a year of your life to a single moment does something to you. When that moment doesn’t go your way, it’s hard not to collapse the outcome into your identity. You stop seeing progress. You start seeing proof you’re not built for it.
Eddie talked about how those placements wrecked his head—until a therapist reframed the whole thing.
Not why are you failing?
But what if failing is part of the requirement?
What if the losses weren’t detours—but tuition?
That question didn’t make the losses hurt less.
It made them make sense.
2. Why this matters to us
Most of us aren’t chasing world titles—but we are chasing something.
A healthier body.
A calmer home.
A repaired relationship.
More presence with our kids.
Progress in something we care deeply about.
And when it doesn’t click quickly, we assume we’re doing it wrong.
But maybe we’re not behind.
Maybe we’re just still learning.
We live in a culture that worships breakthroughs and ignores repetition. So when things take longer than expected, we call it failure—when it might actually be the actual path required to get what we want.
3. The 10-second action for the week
Instead of telling yourself “next time will fix it,” slow down and reflect.
Pick one thing you’re already working on right now.
Not a huge life overhaul—just something real and present.
It could be:
wanting to be more present with people you love
repairing a strained relationship
building consistency with fitness or health
committing more time to something you care about
Now ask yourself:
Each time I try and feel like I’m failing, am I learning something?
Am I actually closer than I think—but just impatient?
If I knew this would work after 10 tries… would I still show up?
What would I do differently if I believed the outcome was inevitable?
Here’s the harder question:
How much does this really matter to me?
Because motivation isn’t about excitement—it’s about willingness. When something truly matters, we find the time. We stay longer. We tolerate discomfort. We keep going.
That willingness is often the clearest signal of alignment, how much are we truly dedicated to the outcome..