The truth is, I became incredibly good at carrying things. Responsibilities. Expectations. Workloads. Commitments. Stress. Pain. I could smile, show up, help people, solve problems, and keep moving long after most people would've tapped out. Somewhere along the way, I started wearing that ability like a badge of honor.

I had spent decades building relationships, developing programs, helping athletes, supporting coaches, and showing up day after day after day. Without ever really intending to, I had built a reputation. I had built trust. I had built a legacy. From the outside, it looked exactly like where I was supposed to be. And for a long time, it was.

The funny thing is that when most people think about growth, they think about adding things. More success. More money. More recognition. More accomplishments. More proof that they're moving forward.

I miss goals I could actually measure. I miss them because there was something comforting about knowing exactly where the finish line was. You knew what success looked like. You knew what you were working toward. You knew when you had arrived.

If anything, my intuition has always been annoyingly early. And I mean annoyingly early. 🤣 The problem was never that I didn't know. The problem was that I often knew long before it made sense to act. Looking back, I can see that pattern throughout my life.

If two people weren't getting along, I noticed it. If there was tension in the room, I felt it. If something needed fixing, I was usually halfway to solving the problem before anyone even realized there was a problem. Looking back, it's almost impressive how many different ways I found to recreate the exact same job description.