I’ve got a pretty good resume going.
I graduated from an Ivy League school with a degree in chemistry. And I don’t mean Cornell.
I trained for and finished an Ironman triathlon the week before my 40th birthday. Here I am crossing the finish line well in front of that jacked dude in the blue top and the other guy walking. Why do I look so bloated? Whatever. I did it.
I’ve built and sold two companies, one for over 9 figures which, while not a unicorn, isn’t a stick in the eye either.
I’ve traveled around the world both for work and for pleasure.
I’ve jumped out of an airplane and broken my leg.
But I can’t for the life of me do any of the following:
- Not drink for an extended period. Like a week. Maybe a work week.
- Ever get into any practice of mindfulness. I can’t sit and meditate. I can’t practice breathing. I was out on a kayak just a few days ago stewing. Stew stew stew. Stew about work. Stew about life. Ignore the beauty all around you. Dinty Moore beef stew for you. I’ll run for hours to train, but 5 mins in my own head….that’s torture.
- Be grateful. I’m a prick. Don’t know why. Just am. I compare my insides with others outsides and they always stack up unfavorably. I’ll even compare my insides to a friend going through a divorce who is miserable and misses his family and think, well, at least he gets to play the field again.
But there is a part of me that believes somewhere in those 3 might finally be the panacea that every other accomplishment has failed to deliver.
And He Says 