How Committed Are You to Getting Good? (Leaders Make Progress, Losers Make Excuses)

If you want to know what matters to you, look at your calendar. Your discretionary time tells the truth.

For almost two and a half years at Meraki, I’ve scheduled myself to be there six to seven days a week.

I only miss my schedule if I’m sick and don’t want to share my germs, or if I have to schedule something over my training time.

Other than that, I show up to “train.”

Even if that means I’m beat up and won’t be getting on the mat. Even if I’m just watching from the sidelines.

Because showing up isn’t just about rolling. It’s about learning.

And you can learn just as much—sometimes more—by watching as you can by doing.

The Poster That Changed How I Learn

One of the first quotes I remember “collecting” was in the 70s. I saw it on a poster:

Now, without getting into the weeds of learning styles—which I didn’t even know about as a kid in the 70s—this left an indelible imprint on my skull.

It became my blueprint for learning.

And it’s something I do to learn. And hopefully by my example, to teach the other students at the gym.

That one way to learn is to attend class to just observe.

The Benefits of Observation (That Most People Miss)

Most people think the only way to train is to actively be on the mat.

And while they’re not wrong, it’s incomplete.

Because the benefits of observation are more than just learning techniques.

Sometimes you get exposed to stuff you never would have otherwise.

This happened the other day at Meraki. I was recovering from a particular rough couple of days on the mat, so I showed up to observe.

There were only 3 students on the mat, besides Jason Hunt, owner and head instructor of Meraki, a black belt, a brown belt and a purple belt.

So Jason took advantage of the intimate high-level class to give a masterclass, that I was privy to for no other reason than showing up on a day that I was too beat up to roll.

This was the first time I’ve seen a true example of the “jutsu” aspect of this combat sport. A way to end a fight in seconds.

I wouldn’t have seen it if I hadn’t been there. Watching.

What I Learned in Hapkido by Watching

I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s worth repeating:

I would often train on the small mat after my classes. Not only for the training, but also to observe the classes of the upper belts.

First as a beginner, watching intermediate and advanced classes.

Then as an intermediate/advanced student, watching black belt classes.

And sometimes—just sometimes—I’d be brought into the class by the instructor.

Either as a body for demonstration purposes (I think to test my resolve on watching what I “wasn’t” supposed to see yet, lol).

Or as a body for an instructor who needed a partner to practice on.

Either way, I got introductions to techniques months and years before I was formally introduced to them.

And the insights I gained from those early introductions were invaluable.

When I finally learned those techniques in my own curriculum, I already had context. I already had a framework. I already had a sense of how they worked.

I wasn’t starting from zero. I was starting from observation.

The Conversation I Keep Having

I sometimes joke around with my classmates when I don’t see them in class for a few weeks or months.

I’ll ask them: “Where have you been?”

Usually, I hear good reasons. Work. Family. Needing a break.

But if they say they’re too injured or beat up to be on the mat, I gently remind them:

More often than not, they’re shocked to even consider that.

They think the only way to train is to actively be on the mat.

And while they’re not wrong, it’s still incomplete.

I’ve learned so much by observing and taking notes—something that’s hard to do while on the mat—that the benefits are multifaceted.

You see things you miss when you’re in the middle of it. You notice patterns. You understand strategy. You absorb principles.

The Two Questions That Reveal Your Commitment

So I ask you this:

That’s the first indication of its priority in your life.

Not what you say matters. Not what you wish mattered.

What you actually spend your time on.

And the second question:

Do you show up even when it’s hard? Even when you’re tired? Even when you don’t feel like it?

Or do you make excuses?

Because leaders make progress. Losers make excuses.

What Discretionary Time Actually Means

Let’s be clear about what we’re talking about.

Discretionary time is the time you control. The time after work, after obligations, after necessities.

It’s the time you choose how to spend.

For most people, that’s evenings and weekends. Maybe a few hours a day. Maybe more on weekends.

How you spend that time reveals what actually matters to you.

Not what you say matters. Not what you think should matter.

What actually matters.

If you say you want to get good at something—whether it’s martial arts, a skill, a business, a craft—but you’re not spending your discretionary time on it, you’re lying to yourself.

You don’t actually want it. You just like the idea of it.

The 80/20 Rule of Commitment

Here’s what I’ve observed over decades:

80% of people say they’re committed.

20% actually are.

The 80% show up when it’s convenient. When they feel like it. When nothing else is going on.

The 20% show up regardless.

They schedule it. They protect it. They treat it like a non-negotiable.

And that’s why the 20% get results and the 80% don’t.

It’s not talent. It’s not genetics. It’s not luck.

It’s commitment.

What Commitment Looks Like in Practice

Here’s what commitment looks like:

1. You schedule it.

It’s on your calendar. It’s blocked out. It’s protected.

It’s not “I’ll go if I have time.” It’s “This is the time I go.”

2. You show up even when you don’t feel like it.

You’re tired. You’re sore. You had a long day.

You show up anyway.

Because commitment isn’t about feelings. It’s about decisions.

3. You show up even when you can’t perform.

You’re injured. You’re beat up. You can’t train at full capacity.

You show up anyway. You observe. You learn.

Because there’s always a way to make progress, even if it’s not the way you planned.

4. You rarely give yourself a pass.

Emergencies happen. Life happens. Sometimes you genuinely can’t make it.

But it’s rare. Not regular.

If you’re giving yourself a pass every week, you’re not committed. You’re dabbling.

5. You protect the time.

Other things will try to encroach. Social events. Work demands. Distractions.

You say no.

Because if it’s truly a priority, you protect it.

What I’ve Learned From Showing Up Six to Seven Days a Week

Here’s what I’ve learned from showing up to Meraki six to seven days a week for almost two and a half years:

1. Consistency compounds.

Every session builds on the last. Every observation adds context. Every rep adds skill.

Over time, the compound effect is massive.

2. You see things others miss.

When you’re there all the time, you see the patterns. You see how techniques connect. You see the progression.

You develop a depth of understanding that casual attendance can’t provide.

3. You earn respect.

Not because you’re the best. But because you show up.

People notice. And they respect commitment.

4. You become part of the culture.

When you’re there all the time, you’re not just a member. You’re part of the fabric.

You contribute. You support. You build.

5. You get opportunities others don’t.

Like being brought into the black belt class. Like seeing the upper-level techniques. Like being asked to help teach.

Opportunities go to the people who show up.

The Framework: How to Commit

Here’s how you build real commitment:

Step 1: Decide what actually matters.

Not what you think should matter. Not what other people say should matter.

What actually matters to you.

Be honest. Be specific.

Step 2: Calculate your discretionary time.

How many hours a week do you control? After work, after obligations, after necessities.

That’s your budget.

Step 3: Allocate time to what matters.

If something truly matters, it gets a significant portion of your discretionary time.

Not the leftovers. Not “if I have time.” A significant, protected portion.

Step 4: Schedule it.

Put it on your calendar. Block it out. Treat it like a non-negotiable appointment.

If it’s not scheduled, it won’t happen.

Step 5: Show up regardless.

Tired? Show up. Sore? Show up. Don’t feel like it? Show up.

Commitment isn’t about feelings. It’s about decisions.

Step 6: Track your consistency.

How many times did you show up this week? This month? This year?

The data doesn’t lie.

If you’re not showing up consistently, you’re not committed.

Step 7: Eliminate the excuses.

“I’m too tired.” “I’m too busy.” “I’m too injured.”

These are excuses, not reasons.

There’s always a way to make progress. Even if it’s just observing. Even if it’s just studying. Even if it’s just showing up.

Leaders make progress. Losers make excuses.

The Cost of Not Committing

Here’s what happens when you don’t commit:

1. You don’t improve.

Dabbling doesn’t create mastery. Casual attendance doesn’t build skill.

You stay mediocre.

2. You waste time.

If you’re not committed, you’re just going through the motions. You’re not actually learning. You’re not actually progressing.

You’re wasting your time and everyone else’s.

3. You lose respect.

People notice who shows up and who doesn’t. Who’s committed and who’s dabbling.

And they adjust their expectations accordingly.

4. You miss opportunities.

The best opportunities go to the people who show up. Who are there. Who are committed.

If you’re not there, you miss them.

5. You prove to yourself that you’re not serious.

Every time you give yourself a pass, you reinforce the belief that this doesn’t really matter.

And over time, you stop even pretending it does.

The Challenge

Here’s what I want you to do this week:

Pick one thing you say you’re committed to.

Then ask yourself two questions:

1. How much of my discretionary time am I actually spending on this?

Be honest. Look at your calendar. Track your hours.

2. How often do I give myself a pass on this commitment?

Every week? Every month? Rarely?

Then decide: Am I actually committed, or am I just dabbling?

If you’re committed, prove it. Schedule it. Protect it. Show up.

If you’re not committed, stop pretending. Either commit or let it go.

But don’t lie to yourself.

The Truth About Commitment

Leaders make progress.

Losers make excuses.

It’s that simple.

If you want to get good at something, you have to commit your discretionary time to it.

Not when it’s convenient. Not when you feel like it.

Consistently. Relentlessly. Regardless.

You show up even when you’re tired. Even when you’re sore. Even when you can’t perform at full capacity.

You show up. You observe. You learn.

Because there’s always a way to make progress.

And over time, that commitment compounds into mastery.

So I ask you again:

How committed are you to getting good?

Your discretionary time tells the truth.

What does yours say about you?