I was the fittest I had ever been (in my eyes), preparing to make another run at the CrossFit Games. My goal? To win the Masters division again and qualify as an Individual—something no one had done before.
I had just secured another trip to the Games as a Master after winning the year before and was gearing up for Semi-Finals as an Individual.
Everything was on track.
Then Covid hit, and it changed everything.
I was speechless when I got the email: the Games were canceled. It was April, and all I could think about was the work I had put in. All the training, all the effort—gone. Now, I was supposed to just stop. I would have to wait over a year, hoping the Games would even happen, and keep training… for what?
This was one of the toughest points in my career. I stopped training. For almost two decades, I had always worked out with a competition in mind. Now, I felt like I had no reason to continue.
Eventually, I walked out into the gym in our garage and just sat there. I didn’t want to work out. I went back inside.
My wife was worried about me. She could see my mindset slipping and feared I might start spiraling. I was still posting on social media, trying to stay positive, but inside, my motivation and drive were fading. I didn’t want to push anymore.
Finally, I told myself, “Let’s just keep it simple.”
I grabbed a dumbbell and did some movements. Nothing fancy—just moved. The next day, I went out again, this time for five or ten minutes. I kept it simple.
Eventually, I started posting about it and called it SWOLE. People were interested. It gave me something to focus on and talk about.
For about a year, I didn’t train. I worked out without big goals or a strict plan. My only mission was to hold burnout at bay and keep moving every day. It didn’t have to be perfect, and I didn’t need to meet any specific goals. I just wanted to avoid sliding down into a dark hole.
By the end of that year, competing was off the table. The fire was gone. But something else had started: a simple idea about continuing what I had started and building on it.
Now, five years later, I still look good. I’m still in good shape. But I’m doing it a completely different way.
I could have quit. I could have spiraled and told myself it was fine. But it wouldn’t have been. When you work as hard as I had for as long as I had, it’s tough not to feel like everything will fall apart if you stop.
So, I took everything I knew—what worked, what didn’t—and focused on what I enjoyed. I made fitness fun again. I stopped worrying about the details and just did something.
That’s why you hear me talk so much about doing something challenging, even if it’s just six minutes.
Because that’s what I did.
I’m always trying to explain this shift and what it means. Well, this is me starting to do that, and it feels good to write it down and hit send.
Thanks for listening.