The chase is in service to all driven achievers…

Words can’t always describe

the sensation of feeling truly alive.

Blood pumping so hard that the echo in your ears drowns out the music.

Sweat dripping into the fresh cuts,

blood mixing with salt,

only the sting reminding you this is pain.

Lungs expanded from constant breath,




Fuck I love to ride.

As I exit the single tracks there’s a feeling of complete bliss.

For a moment I sit up,

take a long breath,

and smile.

It’s good to be alive.

Which is when I spot him,

coming up from the side,

and I think to myself,

let it be Anel.

Let it be.

Except my legs start increasing the pace just a little.

Okay, a lot.

I hunker down again and feel the muscles in my shoulders tense up as my core hardens to increase my output.

It takes him more than a kilometre to overtake me.

As he does,

I do a quick scan.

Huge motherfucking calf-muscles indicate this boy is in excellent condition.

The natural ease with which he wears his outfit,

combined with the fluid movements on his bike,

tells me this ain’t no roadie.

Mountain-biker through and through.

Which means

A – he is stronger, faster, than I am at this time of my training and

B – he is technically more advanced.

I could have let him go.

Just sit up.

No harm done.

ROTFLMFAO – not a fuck.

The chase was on!

I saw his fingers move,

gearing down,

increasing his speed.

And matched his movements.

He looked around,

clearly expecting to have dropped my arse,

and a slight smile was visible as he spotted me just behind him.

He knew.

And he loved the game as much as I do.

We continued for kilometres.

Him keeping the hammer down,

frequently looking back to see if he’d managed to break me.

Me telling the voice in my head to shut the fuck up and keep going.





As we approached a fork in the road he sat up.

Clearly this was his turn-around point.

Thank the holy goodness of peanut butter!!

I took the right, up the embankment,

gracefully swallowing the vomit in my mouth.

I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing my suffering.

THIS my Darling, is the world of high performance.

For most, it might seem insane.

Yet this friendly rivalry is exactly what keeps the game interesting.

It’s what keeps us sharp.

Instead of believing the horse manure that I’m frequently fed

that I shouldn’t be so competitive,

shouldn’t drive so hard,

shouldn’t bite off more than I can chew,

shouldn’t try and keep up with those who are further along,

I know that the chase is in service to us all.

For me, it gives me an edge to an already tough session which is now banked.

Gains Baby – it’s all about the gains.

For him, an unexpected push that he would otherwise not have experienced, plus he knows there’s new blood on his turf.

A little ego boost of confidence that he managed to keep in front of an Ironman athlete.

For those who will race us in future,

a little more competition.

Which they will take back to their training sessions.

Taking the results from the race and adjusting their approach so they can come back even stronger.

To win again.

Except the field continuous to get stronger.

Which means what had them winning today,

will not be enough to have them win tomorrow.

I believe in taking this exact same approach in business.

I have the audacity to look at the best in the field,

and chase their arses.

It doesn’t matter whether or not they are aware of me.

What matters is that I continue to raise my own standards,

keep improving my skills,

my service,

my output.

And in the process I raise the standards for those around me.

Which eventually causes those in the front to adjust their sails – determined to stay in the lead.

Taking it next level once again.

It comes down to personal responsibility Darling.

Yes, I can say it doesn’t matter.

That in the bigger scheme of things I’m just a little shrimp.

I could be that coward who just want to bumble along.

I’m not.

I want you to know today that those you look at,

those who you either admire or hate,

because you think they’re at the top of their game,

and that you can never compete with them,

have been where you are today.

Wherever that is.

Everyone starts at zero.

The only difference is that they DECIDED to become major league players.

They put in the work.

Day in and day out.

They chased those ahead of them at the time.

They silently cried when nobody was around.

Swallowing the bile.

Wiping off the sweat.

Relishing the blood.

They made a commitment to success.

Regardless of the price,

of how long it would take,

the sacrifices they would need to make.

Their drive is bigger than their fear.

Understanding that fear never goes away.

That’s a lie the average feeds you,

so that you think there’s something wrong with you for shitting your pants.

Courage is found in the presence of fear.

Nothing will change until you stop fucking around.

Nothing will happen until you commit to success.

Nothing will turn around until you see yourself as a serious contender.

And then show up.

What will it take for you to truly get hungry again?

What will it take for you to give yourself permission to show up?

To get your arse in the game!

Look, January is at the end of her breath.

What progress have you made with your goals?

You know – the ones you said that THIS is the year you’re going to crush.

The ones you’ve been talking about forever.

Have you truly made the commitment by finally getting the support you deserve?

Have you surrounded yourself with those who make you uncomfortable AF?

The ones you feel is so much better than you?

Have you started taking MASSIVE ALIGNED ACTION which you’ve not taken before?

Or are you still telling yourself the same bullshit as you did in 2018, 2017, 2016…

That you can’t afford it…

That there’s still plenty of time,

so you will do it next week, next month.

That you simply have to do what you’ve done before,

just a little harder.

Okay Sunshine,

Whatever works for you.

Personally, I don’t have time to screw around with talkers.

I choose to be in the league of the doers.

So you can keep telling yourself whatever you need to make yourself feel better.

Knowing that I won’t even be seeing you at the finish line,

because I will already be two races ahead.

Or you can get your arse on my field,

and we can play.

Only death is inevitable.

Thriving is always the choice of the brave.

With deep love and appreciation for you,


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