The high school atmosphere that I loved was gone. High school had been about chest bumps, high fives, and having fun. There was built-in structure, and you didn’t have to think too much about it. I made the structure work for me, and it didn’t take a lot of effort. I coasted, and all the way from timid freshman to school-ruling senior, I found a way to work the system. I did just enough to get by. I played sports because I had some natural size and athleticism. I hung out with my friends during the day, and we partied hard on weekends. Come Monday, I showed up to the classes I knew I needed to attend and skipped the ones I knew I could. Signed, sealed, delivered—I graduated. Sounds familiar, right?
When I sat down for my first core curriculum class at West Valley, the differences between my high school life and life in community college started to sink in. I didn’t know anyone in the class, and it sent me into a bit of a spiral. I found myself in a big lecture hall with people of all ages and backgrounds. I looked around the room for a familiar face, but all I could see and feel was change…a radical shift from everything I had known. My heart rate spiked, and I was scared.
We were asked to introduce ourselves to the class. One by one students stood up, gave their names, and offered up a personal detail or two. People were in that room for all sorts of different reasons, and they came from all walks of life.
There was a woman sitting next to me who looked like she was in her early twenties. I looked at her as she stood, hoping to establish some unspoken common ground with someone. It didn’t turn out that way. I can’t remember her name, but when she told the class, “This is my seventh year here,” my heart nearly stopped.
Seventh year. SEVENTH YEAR!?
When my turn arrived, I stood up, looked around the room, and somehow managed to say, “I’m Jason. This is my first semester.” Then I sat back down. I was freaked out. My mind spun with images of a murky, aimless future. I had trouble concentrating for the rest of the hour. White, muffled noise was all I could hear (kind of like the teacher in Charlie Brown cartoons). This woman was in her seventh year of community college. Wasn’t the idea to get an associate degree in two years and then move on to a full-time job or transfer to a four-year university?
I started to wonder if I was on track to do the same thing. Was I bound to end up like the person sitting next to me—stalled out in school for seven years? Was it even remotely possible that I could sink into the same sort of comfort zone and aimlessly keep taking community college classes while watching almost a decade of my life fade away?
When the class ended, I couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. I had to figure out what I was going to do with my life that very day. The things I didn’t want in life came into sharp focus first. I didn’t want aimlessness, uncertainty, fear, or laziness. I wanted purpose, investment, diligence, and grit. This experience literally moved me. I would soon go from not having a strong why at all to having life-altering, soul-guiding why. Things were about to change fast.
I began to reflect in a way that I never had before—brutal honesty. Because I hadn’t taken high school seriously, I had unconsciously created a division between some of my friends and me. Many of my peers had moved on without me. And they should have! But in that moment, two words changed me forever—seventh year. Maybe I was so disturbed by the fact that you could blink and be in your mid to late twenties with little to no progress. Maybe it was because I had begun to realize that much of my “success” to date (graduating high school) was only the result of a system and structure that had done all the work for me—you literally had to try to fail. Perhaps most accurately and honestly, I wondered if I actually had more in common with the woman on the seven-year-plan than I could admit.
My shock deepened as I realized an additional fact about community college…no one cared whether I drifted or not. I could skip class, drop out, whatever. The structure that had pushed me through high school was gone. It was all up to me now. For the second time in not so many hours, I was really scared. But this time, something burned inside me that was stronger than my own fear. All I could hear in my own head was the word “GO.” So, I went.
This was the moment my why began to take shape and grabbed hold of me, and in a certain way, took over. My why manifested in two ways. First, would Ashley ever want to be with someone as lost and unmotivated as I had been? And second, would I be able to live with myself as a seventh-year freshman?
Gripped by these thoughts, I raced to the admissions and counseling building. I signed up for an immediate appointment and waited my turn. The ink from the notes of my first class probably hadn’t dried yet. After what seemed like an eternity, they called me in to the office.
The counselor’s room was small, which made my anxiety even more pronounced. I got right down to business and launched into it before even sitting down.
“I need to get the hell out of here as fast as I can.”
I paused momentarily, almost in shock at my own words. The counselor blinked at me. When I think back to that day now, I realize that she had probably seen people like me all the time. People freaking out on the first day, just dying to get out. There was a brief silence. I didn’t know whether the counselor would throw me out of her office or laugh my words off as first day jitters. So, I continued, “Yeah, I need to get this done and fast…how do I do that?”
The counselor did her best to work with me, and I came out of the meeting with an understanding that I would have to take a full course load each semester and take classes in the summer as well. I was ready. And now that I had the necessary information, I wasn’t going to waste time and find myself in that same office a year later having the same conversation.
Just GO!
Taking Action
That day, I first discovered how a why could force me into action. After getting blown away by my first class, I stopped looking at school as a place to have fun with friends. School was work. School was a mission. I now had purpose…and I gave myself a deadline.
I don’t judge people at all if they decide to go to college or not. But if you’re going to college or considering any heavy investment in your education, you need to get the job done. If you’re doing two years at a community school, just get in and get out. If you’re in school to become a doctor, then buckle up for the next seven years…you’ve got to be in it for the long haul. If you decide to do something else entirely, like learn a trade or go into business for yourself, then go for it. But whatever you do, treat it like a mission. Go in it with a purpose. Don’t get stuck in a rut, accumulating debt and using college as a comfortable place to drift around. Don’t get a degree in partying.
There was a lot I didn’t know, and a lot I needed to know. I had failed to pick up some necessary skills in high school when I’d had the chance. I didn’t know how to study effectively, manage my time, or create opportunities. I was unclear on how to navigate the shift from high school jock to community college…let alone eventually to a four-year university.
I needed more help than the academic counselor could offer. So, I sought out mentors and experts everywhere I could. I asked for advice from people who had the right expertise and experience. I talked to tutors and professors and advisors both in and out of West Valley. I pestered the Santa Clara University admissions office on their expectations for applicants. I entered extracurricular programs at school to pick up missing skills.
I swallowed my ego, and I asked for help. The counselors showed me how I could accelerate my progress through the academic curriculum. I took the maximum number of classes each semester, squeezed in additional classes during the short winter terms, and took more classes during the summer. I had a plan, and I executed it with precision.
Rejection: The Ultimate Motivator
This period of my life is where my why started to shape every decision I made and influenced how I spent my time. If I was going to get out of school as soon as possible, I was going to have to coordinate my schedule for maximum efficiency. So, I took classes in the morning
, carved out time to workout at 2 p.m., sold gym memberships at a local gym in the mid-afternoon, and left evenings for homework, studying, and dates with Ashley. I needed to work at all times to keep everything together. My day was packed—and I loved it.
I applied to transfer to Santa Clara every chance I got. I was completely wound up in the idea of getting closer to Ashley. After six months at West Valley, I applied and was rejected. A few months later, rejected again. Good, I thought, now I just want it even more! I wanted it so badly that getting another rejection letter after turning myself around and working hard to get good grades only forced me to work harder.
It wasn’t until my third (okay, technically my fourth) application—after doing the work necessary to essentially erase the weakness of my high school transcript—that I got in to Santa Clara. I had reached my first goal.
These months spent at West Valley taught me many things, and even thinking back on it now, I still learn from the experience. One of the main lessons in all of this involves evaluating myself with honesty. The truth was that, even though six solid months of good grades at a community college was a fine start, my efforts fell far short of eclipsing years of poor performance in high school. I can look back now and laugh—did I really think six months would be enough?
The reality was, I had a debt to pay off. The years of sitting on my hands added up, and I was “in the red.” There was no shortcut around it. It was a good lesson. You have to be honest about the work you need to do to go where you want to go. This is a brutal and harsh honesty. The kind where if you really think about it, the scarier it seems. But that’s how you know it’s right. More than just honesty, you have to be persistent with the work and not allow a setback—like getting a rejection letter—to slow you down. You want something bad enough? Okay, I get that…now, prove it. You have every opportunity to change your destiny with every choice you make. So, here’s your chance…start with your very next decision.
Alignment of Your Why and Your Values
As my why came into focus, several things started to happen for me all at once. This universal shift wasn’t just a coincidence. Whether I knew it or not at the time, my why was clarifying my life goals, who I was, and what I stood for.
As I mentioned earlier, some of the most effective physical training produces a tremendous amount of hard work within a short period of time. I learned from this impactful process in the gym and applied it to other areas of my life. To this day, I do almost all of my workouts against a stopwatch. If you ask me to work out…you better believe we are going “for time.”
College became a similar pursuit. It was “for time.” My results really started to cook when I added the element of competition. I tried to think of academic classes in a group setting as a competitive endeavor. Soon, the why that had kicked me all the way to that counselor’s office became stronger through action. It was taking shape and transforming from raw energy into a finely sharpened point. My why was like a voice, central to my thoughts, motivations, and actions.
I was burning up with a desire to succeed in school. As my effort in the classroom started to pay off, the desire to succeed in school morphed into the desire to succeed in business. I eventually came to the realization that if I wanted to achieve new levels of financial and personal freedom I would need to become my own boss. It was crystal clear to me that I would one day open my own business. I didn’t know when or what, but I knew why.
My courtship of Ashley was eventually successful (though it may not have been the overnight success I was striving for). Like any young couple, we had our ups and downs. But transferring out of West Valley and proving to both myself and her that I was really invested paid off. Ashley and I were together, and we were happy. As our love and relationship grew, we knew we wanted a house, family, and life together.
In Silicon Valley, the real estate market can be pretty unforgiving, especially for first-time buyers. So, in order for us to get married and begin building our future, I needed to set my standards high when it came to income and saving. My resolve to reach my goals strengthened, and I tapped into a source of energy and drive that gave me the discipline to face the daily grind. After all, the grind was necessary if I wanted to achieve the things I really wanted.
Working Out and Moving Up
I could tell, even in my early twenties, that this was just the beginning of my journey towards finding my why. For my why to have staying power, I would need to fuel it sufficiently for the long haul. It couldn’t just be aligned with what I wanted in the moment; it had to be aligned with my core values. This is the stuff that really makes you tick. For me, core values are the two or three defining characteristics about yourself that are inalienable, non-negotiable. I value honesty, self-expression, and a real conection to my community. My passion and purpose needed to ladder into my core values. Did they?
Here’s the thing…I knew I wanted to be successful and have a house, family, and all that. That was clear. It was also clear that I needed to make more money to do that. The tricky thing about money is that even though you need it, it can really mess you up. Pursuing it, obsessing over it, gaining it or losing it—these can all trip you up on the path to fighting for your why.
This is the reason your why needs to be bigger than simply, “I want to make a lot of money.” In order for your why to drive you in the right direction, it needs to be soulful and in tune with your core values. If you’re off track, you are potentially heading for disaster.
I have always been passionate about sport and fitness, and as my future goals began to solidify, I came to realize that my path would lead to owning my own gym. I was growing more intrigued by and engrossed with the power of fitness, and really enjoyed seeing people come in, get a great workout, and leave feeling accomplished. Seeing people work hard and achieve something is great, and I wanted to give that experience to others.
At the same time, however, I felt a sense of hollowness stemming from working at a conventional gym. For every person leaving feeling accomplished, I saw five people looking or feeling lost. I dug a little deeper and realized that there was an important piece missing. We weren’t upholding our side of the bargain.
I was selling a bag of goods—long-term, contract-based memberships—and not a meaningful experience. These memberships weren’t meant to invigorate and produce results, they were just empty vehicles. The fine print might as well have said, “We hope you pay on time and never show up” as the rep smiled, and the poor sucker signed the contract. Simply put, the conventional gym business wasn’t delivering on the promise it had made to its customers.
Although selling conventional gym memberships earned me a nice commission check, most of the people I sold to ended up not getting much out of the gym. It generally went the same way…I would pitch the membership package, they would buy it, and in three weeks I’d never see them again. I was good at selling. Even though I could get people to buy them on the spot, there was no true substance behind their participation in the gym. They never really found a sustainable way to exercise.
At that time, it wasn’t my job to ensure that. My job was to sell, sell, sell. Eventually, though, it started to wear on me. I felt the burden of those empty promises. These people wanted to change their lives enough to buy a membership, but we weren’t really giving them the tools to do so. Unless they had the support and mentoring they needed to cross the bridge into a health-and-fitness lifestyle, they would never make it to the gym regularly—even though they continued to be charged monthly for the membership. I was selling a vision of fitness that promised a new and improved life to members, but I wasn’t helping them achieve that new level of fulfillment. I felt that at its core, this approach was deeply dishonest.
CrossFit
CrossFit is a fitness regimen developed by Greg Glassman. CrossFit is constantly varied functional movements performed at high intensity. All CrossFit workouts are based on functional movements, and these movements reflect the best aspects of gymnastics, weight
lifting, running, rowing, and more. Overall, the aim of CrossFit is to forge a broad, general, and inclusive fitness supported by measurable, observable, and repeatable results.
In the early 2000s, my buddy, Austin Begiebing, came across CrossFit online after his mom told him about it. Austin worked with me at the conventional gym and talked about CrossFit constantly. After a few weeks of cajoling I gave in and went with him to Union City, California. There, we met a coach named Freddy Camacho, one of the CrossFit “OGs,” who put me through my first workout in 2007. It was brutal.
I thought I was in pretty good shape back then. I spent a good amount of time in the conventional gym and worked out long and hard. But that first CrossFit workout was something else. I remember I had to adjust the workout to fit a beginner. Midway, I had to change the workout to jumping pull-ups (a scaled version of an unassisted pull-up), because I couldn’t complete all of the regular ones. Even when doing something as simple as sit-ups it was obvious that I didn’t have the same capacity as some of the men and women around me. Boy, did CrossFit intrigue me!
Austin and I played around with this new regime for a few months, cherry-picking workouts from the CrossFit website and trying out a few different places. After a few sessions with Austin, I began to appreciate the results I could get from these high-intensity, functional movements combined into gut-wrenching workouts. The workouts were hard, and I loved every second of it. It didn’t take long before I was hooked. I was fascinated by CrossFit’s ability to get more work done in less time…exactly the approach that had saved me in community college. Seeing the potential that CrossFit offered was inspiring, even more so when I noticed the very different business model the program offered.
An essential component of CrossFit is the idea that its practitioners make up a community. This is where it differed from what I had experienced at regular gyms. Rather than a system of buyers and sellers of memberships, it provides a close-knit network of people who understand that they are all in this together. This amazing sense of community combined with sharing the experience of hard work is the true driver of CrossFit’s amazing results.
As Many Reps as Possible Page 3
