It’s Never Been Easier to Stand Out: Why Mediocrity Is Your Biggest Advantage

When everyone quits, staying becomes winning. Here’s why the bar has never been lower—and what that means for you.

A little over two years ago, I walked into a beginner’s BJJ class knowing I was going to get destroyed.

58 years old. Small frame. 115 pounds soaking wet. Surrounded by guys half my age with twice my strength and three times my aggression.

I wasn’t wrong.

I got smashed. Submitted. Pressured into positions where I couldn’t breathe. Twisted into shapes my body hasn’t made since I was a kid—and even then, not voluntarily.

Week after week, I showed up knowing the result would be the same.

And it was.

Until it wasn’t.

Last week, I rolled with one of my blue belt training partners. Younger guy. Strong. Athletic. Lots of energy. He’s always liked rolling with me because—let’s be honest—I’ve been an easy win for him.

He came in aggressive like always. Attacked like always. Pushed forward like always.

Except this time, I was shutting him down.

Slowly. Methodically. With control I didn’t have six months ago, let alone two years ago.

I defended what he threw at me. Found an opening. Improved my position. Pressured him into high side control—one of the better positions in BJJ.

The buzzer went off ending the round.

I was on top. He was flattened. I didn’t get tapped.

For two years, I “lost” every single round in that class.

But I didn’t quit.

And now? I’m not losing as much anymore.

Here’s what that has to do with you, your career, your goals, and why it’s never been easier to stand out in any field you choose.

The Fundamentals Class Problem: Everyone Wants the Highlight, Nobody Wants the Grind

I’ve always had mixed feelings about the fundamentals BJJ class.

The noon class—the mixed-level open mat—is hard. I get beaten up by purple belts, brown belts, black belts. Guys who’ve been training for a decade or more.

But I feel safe.

They’ve got control. They know how to apply pressure without injuring me. They can submit me ten different ways, but they do it with precision and control.

The fundamentals class? Different story.

Ninety percent white and blue belts. Guys just learning the techniques. Lots of enthusiasm. Lots of effort. Lots of “I’m gonna make this work no matter what.”

Zero control.

For a small sixty-year-old guy, that’s dangerous.

I’ve been submitted in ways that left me sore for days. Cranked in positions that tweaked joints. Pressured by guys who didn’t know their own strength.

It’s chaotic. Uncomfortable. Risky.

But here’s the thing:

That chaos is why I kept showing up.

Because everybody else in that room was focused on attacking. On winning. On getting the tap. On looking good.

Nobody was focused on defense.

Nobody was willing to spend two years getting beaten up while they learned how to not lose.

Except me.

And now, two years later, while they’re still scrambling for submissions they can’t finish and positions they can’t hold, I’m controlling rounds against guys who used to dominate me.

Not because I’m stronger.

Not because I’m faster.

Not because I know more techniques.

Because I was willing to do the boring, uncomfortable, unsexy work that nobody else wanted to do.

Defense First, Offense Later: The Strategy Nobody Has the Patience For

When I started fundamentals class, I had one goal:

Don’t get submitted.

Not “submit the other guy.” Not “win the round.” Not “look impressive.”

Just: survive.

Every round, my only job was to make it harder for the other person to finish me.

I learned how to frame—using my arms and legs to create barriers between me and my opponent.

I learned how to ball up—protecting my neck, my limbs, my vulnerable positions.

I learned how to move my hips, shift my weight, create space when I was being crushed.

I didn’t attack. I didn’t try fancy techniques. I didn’t chase submissions.

I just worked on not losing.

For two years.

And you know what happened?

While everyone else was focused on offense—learning new attacks, drilling submissions, trying to dominate—they never developed a solid defense.

They were fragile when their attacks aren't working.

One mistake, one wrong move, one moment of lost control, and they’d get reversed, swept, submitted.

But me?

I became hard to finish. Hard to control. Hard to break.

And once you’re hard to break, you can start building offense on top of that foundation.

Now, I’m working on escapes. Improving position. Controlling my opponent long enough to set up attacks.

And it’s working.

Because I’m not scrambling. I’m not panicking. I’m not worried about getting submitted.

I already know my defense is solid.

So I can take my time. Apply pressure. Find openings.

And that patience—that willingness to delay offense until the foundation was built—is what most people will never do.

In BJJ.

In business.

In life.

Why My Strategy Seemed Insane to Everyone Else

Most of the guys in that class didn’t understand what I was doing.

They’d roll with me and get frustrated.

“Why isn’t he trying to attack?”

“Why is he just defending?”

“Why is he making this so boring?”

Some of them loved it—because it meant they got to practice their attacks on “the old small guy who’s always at class.”

I became the training dummy. The guy they could beat up. The guy who gave them confidence.

And I let them.

Because while they were chasing taps, I was building something they couldn’t see.

Every failed attack they threw at me taught me how to defend it better.

Every submission attempt showed me where my weak points were.

Every round I survived made me harder to finish the next time.

I wasn’t losing.

I was pressure-testing my defense against live opponents who actually wanted to beat me.

And unlike them, I wasn’t measuring success by taps.

I was measuring it by: did I survive? Did I learn something? Did I get a little better?

The answer was always yes.

The Blue Belt Who Loved Rolling With Me (Until He Didn’t)

There’s one guy in particular—blue belt, younger, strong, athletic—who’s always liked rolling with me.

He’s not a bad guy. Means well. Just has that young male energy that needs an outlet.

And for the last year, I was that outlet.

He’d attack. I’d defend. He’d get the tap. Round over.

Easy win for him. Good training for me.

But last week, something shifted.

He came at me like always. Aggressive. Forward pressure. Looking for the finish.

Except this time, I was shutting him down.

Framed when he tried to pass. Moved my hips when he tried to pin me. Created space when he tried to flatten me.

He couldn’t get anywhere.

And then I saw it—a small opening. His weight shifted wrong. His base was compromised.

I didn’t rush. I didn’t force it.

I just slowly improved position. Applied steady pressure. Worked my way into high side control.

He tried to escape. Couldn’t.

He tried to create space. Couldn’t.

Buzzer went off.

I was on top. In dominant position. Didn’t get tapped.

For the first time of rolling with him, I "won" the round.

Not by submitting him. By controlling him. By not losing.

And here’s the thing:

He didn’t see it coming.

Because while he was focused on getting taps, I was focused on building a foundation that couldn’t be broken.

And now that foundation is paying off.

The 1% Rule: It’s Never Been Easier Because Nobody Sticks Around

Here’s what most people don’t realize:

The bar for success has never been lower.

Not because the work is easier.

Because the competition is weaker.

Most people quit.

Consider these stats:

• ​To be in the top 1% of podcasters, you only need to publish 21 episodes. That’s it. Five months of weekly content.
• ​Only 1% of people on the internet are actual creators. The rest are lurkers or commenters (mostly trolls).
• When I earned my first-degree black belt in Hapkido, my certificate was numbered 67. In almost 30 years of teaching in the United States, Grandmaster Han had only awarded 66 black belts before mine.

Thirty years. Sixty-seven black belts.

That’s insane.

Not because earning a black belt is impossible. It’s not.

It takes about four years of dedicated, consistent effort.

Four years!

Most people can’t stick with something for four years.

Hell, most people can’t stick with something for four months.

They start strong. Get excited. Make progress.

Then it gets hard. Or boring. Or uncomfortable.

And they quit.

Which means if you just keep showing up—if you just refuse to quit—you automatically outperform 99% of people who started the same time you did.

You don’t have to be the best.

You just have to not quit.

Why Everyone Is Too Distracted to Get Good at Anything

The biggest advantage you have right now is that everyone else is distracted.

They’re doing too many things.

Chasing too many goals.

Jumping from trend to trend, tactic to tactic, strategy to strategy.

They want results now. Progress now. Success now.

So they never develop depth in anything.

They’re shallow in ten things instead of deep in one thing.

And shallow doesn’t win.

Deep wins.

Mastery wins.

Consistency wins.

Look at BJJ:

Most students are trying to learn every technique, every guard, every submission at the same time.

I hear this from the white belts all the time, and even some of the higher belts.

They’re overwhelmed. Unfocused. Scattered.

They never get good at anything because they’re trying to get good at everything.

Meanwhile, the guy who spends two years just working defense?

He gets really good at defense.

And once you’re really good at one thing, building on top of that foundation is easy.

The same applies to business:

The guy trying to master copywriting, paid ads, SEO, social media, email marketing, video editing, and funnel building all at once?

He’s going to suck at all of them.

The guy who picks one skill—say, writing—and focuses on that for two years?

He’s going to be really good at writing.

And once you’re really good at one high-value skill, everything else becomes easier.

Because depth beats breadth.

Focus beats distraction.

Patience beats urgency.

Pick a Direction. Keep Moving. Don’t Quit.

Here’s the formula:

Pick one thing. Do it consistently. Don’t quit.

That’s it.

Not complicated. Not sexy. Not revolutionary.

But it works.

Because while everyone else is jumping from opportunity to opportunity, tactic to tactic, you’ll be building depth.

And depth is what separates the 1% from the 99%.

Depth is what makes you hard to beat.

Depth is what makes you valuable.

Depth is what makes you stand out.

You don’t need to be the smartest, the fastest, the most talented.

You just need to be the one who doesn’t quit.

The Real Reason It’s Never Been Easier to Stand Out

The reason it’s never been easier to stand out isn’t because the opportunity is greater.

It’s because the competition is weaker.

Most people:

• Start but don’t finish
• Learn but don’t apply
• Plan but don’t execute
• Try but quit when it gets hard

Which means if you just do the opposite—if you finish, apply, execute, and refuse to quit—you’re already in the top 10%.

Stay consistent for a year? Top 5%.

Stay consistent for two years? Top 1%.

It’s not about being exceptional.

It’s about being relentless.

Your 72-Hour Challenge: Pick Your Direction and Commit

Here’s your challenge:

In the next 72 hours, pick one thing you’re going to commit to for the next two years.

Not ten things. One thing.

One skill. One goal. One direction.

Something that matters. Something that compounds. Something that will make you better, more valuable, harder to replace.

Then commit to showing up consistently—even when it’s hard, boring, or uncomfortable—for two years.

No jumping to the next shiny object.

No quitting when progress slows.

No distractions.

Just: pick a direction, keep moving, don’t quit.

Two years from now, you’ll be in the top 1% of people who started when you did.

Not because you’re better.

Because you didn’t quit.

Reply with this: The one thing you’re committing to for the next two years, and why it matters.