What Is Performance, Anyway?

We all know that guy chasing some athletic dream that… doesn’t really make sense anymore.

The dude who’s still trying to prove something in CrossFit, powerlifting, jiu-jitsu, or some new endurance sport.

Or maybe he just got inspired by a Navy SEAL workout on Instagram and decided that’s the way. (I just strained my eye rolling muscle typing that)

You watch him train like his life depends on it — only to end up injured, overtrained, or constantly frustrated that he’s not getting anywhere.

And yet… there’s a reason guys like us get drawn to that.

We want to perform.

But what does that even mean anymore?

What Is Performance, Anyway?

When we’re younger, performance is easy to define.
It’s numbers :

Two plates on the bench.
Three on the squat.
Four on the deadlift.
A sub-25-minute 5K.
Maybe a few extra notches on the belt or a few less on the waistline.

You chase those metrics because they’re clear.

They tell you exactly where you stand — stronger, faster, better than before.

But somewhere along the way, that definition stops serving us.

You start realizing that performance isn’t about competition anymore.

It’s about confidence — the quiet trust that your body will show up when you need it to.

Real performance means you can:

• Move well — you’ve got the athleticism to land, cut, jump, or react without feeling fragile.

• Endure — your engine doesn’t quit when life gets demanding.

• Stay strong — not to chase numbers, but to get the job done and keep yourself safe.

And that’s where most guys get lost.

Because if your performance training constantly leaves you hurting, tired, or too sore to play with your kids… it’s not performance anymore.

It’s a dude who is letting his ego define his priorities.

The Two Perspectives

Most guys fall into one of two camps when it comes to performance.

1. The Overachiever

He’s the guy who takes a “performance hobby” way too seriously.

He trains like he’s going to war- and yes, I’ve actually had accountants and tech sales guys tell me that the gym is where they “go to war.”

Easy, soldier.

Don’t get me wrong, the drive is admirable. But if every ache turns into an injury and every workout leaves him smoked, that’s not discipline anymore — that’s disconnection.
He’s not performing; he’s punishing himself for not being who he used to be.

And sometimes, that grind isn’t even about training — it’s about escaping.

Because training hard is simple.

You show up, you suffer, you win the day.

But emotional growth? Leading your family? Facing uncertainty in your business or your marriage?

That’s messy. 

There’s no scoreboard. No PRs. No clear rules.

So a lot of men pour all their energy into the gym because it feels controllable — a place where effort equals reward.

It’s not that the training itself is bad. It’s that it becomes a distraction from the real work — the kind that requires reflection, humility, and courage outside the weight room.

And to be clear — there’s nothing wrong with hard training.

I love it.

I still train jiu-jitsu regularly.

I run trail races.

I get the pull toward challenge and intensity — it keeps you sharp and humble.

Those pursuits are incredible teachers… when you approach them with the right mindset.

But how you approach them has to evolve.

You can’t go at 100% intensity all the time and expect your body—or your life—to hold up.

The question isn’t whether you should push—it’s why, when, and how you do it.

2. The Opt-Out

Then there’s the other side — the guy who’s written himself out of the game.

“I’m not an athlete anymore,” he says. “I’ve got real responsibilities now.”

He tells himself that training is selfish — that his time is better spent working, providing, or taking care of his family.

And on the surface, that sounds noble.

But it’s a lie.

Because the truth is, he’s not rejecting fitness out of duty — he’s avoiding the discomfort of effort.

He’s hiding behind busyness.

It’s easier to tell yourself that you don’t have time than to admit you’ve stopped challenging yourself.

And while that logic might buy him time now, it costs him in the long run — in energy, confidence, and capability.

He’s not saving time for his family; he’s slowly becoming a version of himself that can’t fully show up for them.

Both guys are missing the point.

Performance isn’t about chasing the edge or avoiding it — it’s about learning to live at the edge that serves you.

Redefining Performance in Your 30s and 40s

At this stage of life, performance has to mean something different.

You’re not chasing trophies anymore — you’re chasing reliability.

You want to be strong enough to handle what life throws at you, fit enough to keep up with your kids, and capable enough to take pride in how you move through the world.

That’s the kind of performance that matters now — not measured in PRs or race times, but in trust.

Trust that your body won’t quit on you.

Trust that you can dig deep when it counts.

Trust that you can push hard without breaking yourself down.

Performance isn’t the goal — it’s the byproduct of living in alignment.

Training should build capacity, not debt.

It should sharpen your edge, not dull your spirit.

It should help you perform your duties — as a father, a husband, a leader — not distract you from them.

Because when you redefine performance this way, you realize something powerful:

The gym isn’t your proving ground anymore.

It’s your practice ground — the place where you rehearse being the kind of man who shows up strong, steady, and ready.

The Big Idea

Performance in your 30s and 40s isn’t about chasing the edge.

It’s about owning it.

It’s not about proving how much you can suffer — it’s about building a body and mind that can deliver when it matters.

You don’t need to train like a Navy SEAL.
(Really. Please. Don’t.)

You need to train like a man who has nothing to prove to anyone else — because his priorities are in order and he’s playing his own game.

That’s what real performance looks like.

A man who knows what matters, invests in it fully, and lets the rest fall away.

Because when you stop chasing validation and start training from alignment, everything changes.

Your effort becomes more focused.

Your results become more meaningful.

And your body becomes an expression of your clarity, not your insecurity.

The real test of performance isn’t a race or a max lift.

It’s whether your training gives more than it takes.

When your workouts start serving your life — instead of your life serving your workouts — that’s when you finally get it.

That’s real performance.

What’s Next

I’m running a small beta group for a new performance-focused program — built around this exact philosophy.
It’s designed for men who want to train hard and live well — to build strength, endurance, and athleticism without burning out or checking out.

The program can be done from anywhere in the country, but for this first round, I’m only accepting guys who already have some experience in the gym — intermediate level or above.

If you’re interested, reply to this email and I’ll share a quick form to see if it’s a good fit.

No pressure — just a conversation to make sure it aligns with where you’re at and what you want next.

Much love,