I remember the cold winter mornings, my dad driving me in the pitch black to the gym at 5 am.
The sound of Fleetwood Mac blaring on the speaker, and the soft squeaks of my shoes hitting the hardwood floor as I ran.
Something about those mornings stick with me still today.
The solace of an empty gym. The clarity to focus before anyone else is awake. The freedom to experiment new shots, new moves, and new drills by virtue of being alone…
I was never tall. So I committed to becoming the strongest. I wasn’t the fastest. So I committed to working the hardest. I knew it was the price of admission if I was ever to see any playing time.
I never became much on the basketball court – other than maybe setting some records for personal or technical fouls. But the many lessons I learned continue to age with time.
There is something interesting about the human condition that inspires me. Particularly in our tendencies to strive for things we don’t have or that seem impossible.
That innate desire to fulfills the parts we lack seems to be one of the best precursors for conditioning us into who we need to be on our path toward who we’re trying to become.
If I was 6′ 6″ and light on my feet, I may never have developed the discipline to commit fully to a vision for myself. The part of me I felt a need to compensate for may have been just the right recipe to push me to work for it.
In many ways, it’s always what I’ve lacked that has served me most.