The One Thing Nobody Can Take From You (Even When You’re Getting Your Ass Kicked)

When skill fails and strength runs out, there’s still one weapon left.

Noon class the other day was brutal.

Wednesday noon classes can be a mixed bag, not just mixed level. It can have as many as 20 guys on the mat, on other days, it can be really small.

This was one of those days...

I walked in and saw the lineup: Jason Hunt teaching, Oscar—five-foot-eight, 220 pounds of compact black-belt power assisting. Artur—a Roger Gracie brown belt before he moved to LA who moves like water and smashes me like the waves off the North Shore of Oahu. Aaron—a big guy who’s dropped over 30 pounds since I first joined but still outweighs me by a good 70.

And a new guy wearing a white belt who definitely didn’t move like one. In fact, he moved better than half the blue belts I roll with.

I’m standing there thinking, “Well, this is going to hurt.”

And it did.

I got smashed. Submitted. Swept. Passed. Crushed.

Over and over.

But I didn’t quit.

And somewhere in the middle of getting my ass handed to me for the tenth tap, I remembered something I learned decades ago when I was grinding toward my first black belt in hapkido.

You can’t beat the guy who doesn’t quit.

Not with skill. Not with strength. Not with talent.

The only way to beat that guy is if he beats himself by walking away.

And I wasn’t walking away.

What This Has to Do With You

Maybe you don’t train martial arts.

Maybe you’ve never been in a fight.

Maybe the idea of getting choked out by someone 70 pounds heavier than you sounds like a nightmare, not just another Wednesday afternoon, like it is for me.

But you do know what it feels like to get your ass kicked.

Maybe it’s your job. You’re working harder than everyone around you, but you’re not getting the promotions, the raises, the recognition.

Maybe it’s your business. You’re putting in the hours, but the revenue isn’t coming. The clients aren’t showing up. The momentum isn’t building.

Maybe it’s your health. You’re trying to lose weight, get stronger, feel better—but the scale isn’t moving and your energy is still in the toilet.

Maybe it’s your relationships. You’re trying to be a better partner, a better parent, a better friend—but it feels like you’re failing more than you’re succeeding.

You’re getting smashed.

And you’re wondering if it’s worth it to keep going.

Here’s what I was reminded of on the mat that day, and what I learned over decades of getting beat up on the mat and on the construction job site:

The only thing that matters is that you don’t quit.

Not because quitting is weak. Not because you need to prove something to anyone else.

But because the alternative is regret, remorse, and unfulfilled potential.

The Truth Nobody Tells You About Success

You’ve been sold a bunch of BS lies.

The lie says:

If you’re smart enough, talented enough, skilled enough, you’ll succeed quickly and easily.

The lie says:

Success is about having the right strategy, the right connections, the right timing.

The lie says:

If you’re struggling, you’re doing something wrong.

Here’s the truth:

That’s it.

Not talent. Not genius. Not luck.

Resilience.

The ability to take a beating and come back for more.

The willingness to get submitted, swept, crushed—and then tap, reset, and go again.

The refusal to quit when every logical part of your brain is screaming at you to walk away.

This isn’t motivational poster nonsense. This is reality.

Look at anyone who’s achieved something meaningful. Dig into their story.

You’ll find the same pattern:

They got their ass kicked. Repeatedly. For years.

And they didn’t quit.

The Problem With Planning

You’ve probably heard the quote:

It’s true.

You can plan all you want. You can set goals, build strategies, map out the perfect path.

And life will laugh at you.

You’ll get injured. The market will shift. The relationship will end. The opportunity will disappear. The plan will fall apart.

​Steve Jobs said that. And he was right.

You can only connect the dots looking backward.

Only then can you see how the failures, the detours, the ass-kickings were actually preparing you for what came next.

But in the moment?

When you’re in the middle of it?

It just feels like you’re getting smashed.

And that’s when most people quit.

They quit because the plan isn’t working. Because the path isn’t clear. Because they can’t see how this is leading anywhere.

They quit because they’re focused on the outcome instead of the process.

The Shift That Changes Everything

Here’s what I’ve learned after decades on the mat and the jobsite:

You can’t control outcomes.

You can only control your response.

You can’t control whether you win the roll. But you can control whether you quit.

You can’t control whether the business succeeds this quarter. But you can control whether you show up tomorrow.

You can’t control whether the relationship works out. But you can control whether you give up on it prematurely.

Your job isn’t to guarantee success.

Your job is to build resilience.

To develop the toughness to take a beating and keep going.

To become the person who doesn’t quit, even when quitting would be easier.

Because that’s the only thing nobody can take from you.

They can be bigger. Stronger. Faster. More skilled. More connected. More talented.

But they can’t make you quit. Only you can do that.

What Resilience Actually Looks Like

Resilience isn’t about being tough in the “I don’t feel pain” sense.

It’s not about pretending you’re not struggling or that it doesn’t hurt.

Resilience is about feeling the pain, acknowledging the struggle, and choosing to continue anyway.

It’s tapping to the choke, taking a breath, and going again.

It’s failing at the business launch, learning from it, and trying a different approach.

It’s having the hard conversation with your partner, even though it’s uncomfortable, because quitting on the relationship isn’t an option.

Resilience is the decision to keep building even when you can’t see the blueprint.

Even when you don’t know if it’s going to work.

Even when you’re tired, frustrated, and wondering what the point is.

You keep going because the alternative is worse.

The Lesson of 11 Years to Earning a Black Belt

It took me eleven years to earn my first black belt in hapkido.

Eleven years of getting thrown, kicked, punched, and submitted.

Eleven years of showing up when I didn’t feel like it.

Eleven years of watching other people quit.

Even getting sent to the hospital.

Some quit because they got injured. Some quit because life got busy. Some quit because they stopped seeing progress.

But most quit because they just didn’t want to keep getting their ass kicked.

And I get it. It’s not fun.

But here’s what I learned:

You can be more talented. You can be stronger. You can be faster.

But if I’m willing to keep showing up and you’re not, I win. Eventually.

Not because I’m better. But because I’m still there when you’re gone.

The same principle applies to everything.

The business that survives isn’t always the one with the best product. It’s the one that doesn’t quit when things get hard.

The relationship that lasts isn’t always the one with the most passion. It’s the one where both people refuse to quit when it gets difficult.

The person who achieves their goals isn’t always the most talented. It’s the person who keeps going when everyone else stops.

It’s not the size of the dog in the fight. It’s the size of the fight in the dog.

Why Most People Quit

Most people quit for one of three reasons:

1. They’re focused on the outcome, not the process.

They want the black belt, the successful business, the perfect relationship—but they don’t want the years of getting beat up that come with it.

When the outcome doesn’t come quickly, they assume it’s not coming at all.

So they quit.

2. They compare their middle to someone else’s end.

They see someone who’s already successful and think, “I’ll never get there.”

They don’t see the years of struggle that person went through. They only see the result.

So they quit.

3. They don’t have a reason strong enough to endure the pain.

They want success, but they don’t have a compelling why.

When it gets hard—and it always gets hard—they don’t have a reason to keep going.

So they quit.

The Framework: Building Unbreakable Resilience

Here’s how you become the person who doesn’t quit:

Step 1: Shift Your Focus From Outcome to Process

Stop asking, “Am I winning?”

Start asking, “Am I showing up?”

Your job isn’t to guarantee success. Your job is to keep going.

Success is a byproduct of not quitting.

Step 2: Measure Progress in Reps, Not Results

You can’t control whether you win the roll. But you can control whether you show up to class.

You can’t control whether the client says yes. But you can control whether you make the call.

Count the reps. The results will follow.

Step 3: Build Your “Why”

Why are you doing this? What’s the cost of quitting?

Not surface-level answers. Deep answers.

What will you regret if you quit? What potential will you leave unfulfilled?

Write it down. Look at it when you want to quit.

Step 4: Embrace the Suck

Stop waiting for it to get easy. It won’t.

Accept that getting your ass kicked is part of the process.

The discomfort is the price of admission.

Step 5: Find Your People

Surround yourself with people who don’t quit.

Not people who tell you it’s okay to quit. Not people who make excuses for you.

People who show up even when it’s hard. People who hold you accountable.

Step 6: Celebrate Showing Up

You don’t have to win to celebrate.

You showed up when you didn’t want to? That’s a win.

You went another round when you were exhausted? That’s a win.

You didn’t quit? That’s the biggest win of all.

The Reality of the Class That Day

I didn’t win a single roll that day.

I got submitted by Oscar. Smashed and pressured by Artur. Pretzeled by Aaron. Out-maneuvered by the “white belt” who clearly wasn’t.

But I didn’t quit.

I tapped. I reset. I went again.

And at the end of class, I walked out knowing something nobody can take from me:

I’m still here.

I’m still showing up. I’m still learning. I’m still building.

And that’s all that matters.

Because you can’t beat the guy who doesn’t quit.

You can submit him. You can sweep him. You can dominate him for five minutes.

But if he taps, resets, and goes again, you haven’t beaten him.

And eventually—maybe not today, maybe not this month, maybe not this year—but eventually, that resilience compounds.

The skills develop. The strength builds. The understanding deepens.

And the guy who didn’t quit becomes the guy who can’t be beaten.

What’s Challenging You Right Now?

Here’s what I want you to do:

Think about the one big thing that’s challenging you right now.

The thing that’s kicking your ass. The thing that makes you want to quit.

Maybe it’s your career. Maybe it’s your health. Maybe it’s a relationship. Maybe it’s a goal you’ve been chasing for years.

Don’t quit.

Not yet.

Not until you’ve reached out and asked for help.

Because here’s the thing:

You don’t have to do this alone.

I didn’t earn my black belt alone. I had coaches, training partners, people who pushed me when I wanted to quit.

You need the same.

So here’s my challenge to you:

Tell me one big thing that’s challenging you right now.

Reply to this. Tell me what’s kicking your ass.

And let’s find a way for you to overcome it.

Not with magic. Not with shortcuts. But with a plan, accountability, and the resilience to keep going.

Because you can’t beat the guy who doesn’t quit.

And I don’t want you to be the person who quits on themselves.

What’s the one thing you’re not quitting on today?

P.S. As a sidenote, the next class after that Wednesday noon-class trouncing was a 6pm fundamentals class filled with white and blue belts, I usually take these classes as a "recovery" class from the thrashing I get from the midday mixed-levels class.

In that class rolling with the bigger, stronger, younger white and blue belt students, I found that I was better able to move around them, pressure them and make it really difficult for them to smash me.

I didn't tap them but they also didn't tap me and that's a win in my book, at least for that night.

Who knows what the next class will bring, most likely I'll again get smashed by a bigger, stronger, more advanced student.

But I ain't quitting.

And isn't that the point?