It's Not For You

I was giving a speech in the deep South a few years ago. I told a story about a challenging hike I'd done. The point wasn't about hiking but about deliberately choosing difficult paths. My argument was simple: Consistently opting for hard things creates a compound effect in your life. It's like investing small amounts that grow exponentially over time, except instead of money, you're building resilience.

This matters because hardship isn't optional in life. It's inevitable. The only choice we have is whether we prepare for it or not. Those who sustain excellence understand this dynamic. They intentionally expose themselves to controlled difficulty because they know it builds the mental muscles needed when uncontrolled difficulty arrives.

When I finished, an older dude in the third row stood up during the Q&A.
"Uh, that's great and all, but those have a price. They'll tear up your knees and hips. You'll have to get replacements. So I don't think it's a good idea to tell people to do that."
Looking at him from the stage, I replied, "It doesn't seem like this is for you."
It wasn't dismissive. It was honest. Not every philosophy is for every person, especially the ones that embrace discomfort.
Frequent podcast guest Seth Godin has reminded me of this countless times over the years: Some ideas aren't for everyone.

The beauty of ideas is that they don't need universal appeal to be valuable. They just need to resonate deeply with the right audience. This isn't about judging people who choose comfort. They aren't bad people. I'm just not for them, and they aren't for me. The hidden lesson here is about opportunity costs. Every philosophy has tradeoffs. The man worried about joint replacements was calculating one set of costs. I was calculating another.

Both perspectives can be valid simultaneously. The difference is in which future costs you're more willing to accept.