David Goggins — An Inspirational Leader or Unhealthy Fanatic?
By: Trevor Huffman
Tags: Success, Sports, Leadership, Self Improvement, Stoicism

Part One: Why is David swearing at me?

Well, because we all want to be heroes, but not many of us can do the work.

“The reason it’s important to push hardest when you want to quit is because it helps callous your mind. It’s the same reason why you have to do your best work when you are least motivated.” — David Goggins

I cried when a coach told me I’d never play D1 college or NBA basketball (I did both) in front of a camp of 100 kids at Wolverine Basketball Camp. I was in elementary school. I felt the fury rise like mercury inside me.

“Trevor, you’re a great young player, but set realistic goals. Focus on your grades. On being a great student. You’ll never play college hoops. The NBA doesn’t happen for kids up North.”

Screw that, I thought, standing in front of the campers. The anger bubbled out in steaming, silent tears.

Screw that, I can do it. I’ll show you.

But for awhile, I didn’t do anything about the embarrassment or what he said. I just denied it. A few years later, at a leadership conference for middle schoolers, some professors asked me a question that changed my life:

“If anything were possible, what would you want to achieve in the next five to ten years?”

I looked around. “What? Wait, now you’re telling me I can do anything?”

Let us ask again, “If anything were possible, what would you want to achieve in the next five to ten years?”

I rose my hand.

“Yes?”

“Like, even if there’s a point zero one percent chance, like?”

“Yes.”

It didn’t take me long to answer. Hell, if anything was possible, I wanted to be exactly what my previous coaches told me I couldn’t! “Play professional basketball in Europe and the NBA,” became my infamous letters and syllables that changed the course and meaning of my life. The notecard stayed with me everywhere I went. My dream became tangible. I taped it to my bathroom mirror. I wrote it on my palm with marker. I wore a rubber band and when I didn’t do something every day to get closer to my dream, I snapped it.

I discovered the secret isn’t the dream, it’s the system underneath the dream. That’s the foundation that holds a dream together.

I eventually became a 12-year professional basketball athlete in Europe, got cut and paid from the NBA (twice), and all in all, I’m proud of what I accomplished. I trained my body to run a 4:45 mile. I lifted 300 pounds. I squatted 500. I jumped, I sprinted, I pulled, I slammed, I broke, I broke again, I got surgery after surgery in honor of the obsession I loved. It was my release. My validation. My love. My passion. I needed no girlfriend. Only a leather ball and an empty court to realize my human potential.

David Goggins talks about a similar transformation in his book, Can’t Hurt Me:

“I remember my very first day in the gym back in Indiana. My palms were soft and quickly got torn up by the bars because they weren’t accustomed to gripping steel. But over time, after thousands of reps, my palms built up thick callous as protection. The same principle works

when it comes to mindset.”

I agree with this periodization approach to personal growth. Small incremental improvements over time create huge change. Every day get one percent better. This is true secret of any athlete, or billion dollar CEO, or successful startup. You have to put in the daily work.

But eventually, my body started to crumble.

Part two: David, what do we do when obsessions, purpose, and identity end?

At 36, I stepped away from the game of professional basketball. I was on my fifth surgery. My health was diminishing. I wanted to enjoy a quality of life and not have the grapefruit ankles of my father, whom played college and recreational basketball until he was 35. But when you give up your identity, or your obsession, or what drives you to achieve, you’re left with the dark psychological side of what David Goggins dealt with and speaks about in his book.

I gained forty pounds. I took medications for anxiety. Depression. Panic attacks. I struggled with laziness. Vulnerability. Told myself lies. Addictions. Food. Distractions. Obesity. I became the worst version of myself without the identity and purpose of my obsession. After some time, I began to look around. I was much like the rest of our country. We were suffering. We weren’t happy, lost in the bosom of sedentary lifestyles and poor choices. I know what happens because I’ve been in it — the mental and physical health challenge of not striving to be your best defeats you if you don’t defeat it.

I know once you start down the path of least resistance (WHICH IS HUMAN NATURE RIGHT?), it’s hard to come back because…

You lose your focus, your edge, and slowly, silently become a smaller version of yourself. You constantly make small gains toward decay rather than growth.

David Goggins talks about this process in his book. In his videos. In his lifestyle choices. He tell us that life isn’t easy. To grit up. Man up. Toughen up. Woman up. Be better. He says, look in the “Accountability Mirror” and see what it tells you:

“If you look into the mirror and you see a fat person, don’t tell yourself that you need to lose a couple of pounds. Tell the truth. You’re f****** fat!! It’s okay. Just say you’re fat if you’re fat. The dirty mirror that you see every day is going to tell you the truth every time, so why are you still lying to yourself? So you can feel better for a few minutes and stay the f****** same? If you’re fat you need to change the fact that you’re fat because it’s very f****** unhealthy. I know because I’ve been there.”

Man, when I looked in my accountability mirror, I thought, “My life is over. I’m nothing without basketball. I have no purpose.”

You haven’t hit rock bottom if you are wondering if you’re there.

Believe me when I say, you’ll know.

Part three: I begrudgingly admit David’s rather sadistic, fanatic approach is not all that healthy.

From How To Become The Toughest Man Alive:

“Goggins was in a bad place. All the metatarsal bones in his feet were broken. There were stress fractures, shin splints, and muscles tearing. He was peeing blood down his leg because he couldn’t make it to a toilet 20 feet from him. He was on the brink of death, but he didn’t quit. He went on slowly to finish the race, finishing the 100 miles well within the allocated 24 hours.”

You and I, we aren’t David Goggins. I’d like to be a balanced, happier version of Goggins. Yes, suffering creates tougher versions of ourselves. But my goal isn’t to break bones and pee blood down my legs.

There is a balance in understanding the journey is the joy. Does David know this? Practice this?

He’s had a lot of shit happen to him. It’s his job to let go of it. We all have our own baggage. Our own hero’s journey. It’s our job to release the pain, smile, and choose our path.

Obsession, at its best, creates perpetual loops of successful habits, more and more effort, mental toughness, and endless learning. But at its worst, creates unhealthy fanaticism, an unfulfilled ego, distressed health, injuries, and perpetual loops of perfectionism.

There is a reason why I like David Goggins — he is honest about his story. He’s no doubt, a beast (and a very direct one at that). How he went from 297 pounds to an elite warrior Navy Seal is crazy. How he went from running a quarter mile to running 205 miles in 39 hours years later is crazy. How he set a world record for 4,030 pull-ups in 17 hours is crazy.

But when is too much — too much?

If my life mission is to thrive in body, mind, and soul, why would I keep doing what isn’t good for my health?

Our purpose is to thrive, smile more, love more, and live a joyful life while we all self-actualize.

But to me, it seems he’s addicted to the suffering; to the identity it brought him; to the tough man it helped him become.

I could be wrong.

The people that follow him without questioning the reason why they follow him could be in danger of sacrificing health, long term happiness, and wellness for themselves. Extreme obsession is no doubt… a special feat. A personal journey. Just like finishing a marathon is. Just like climbing Mount Everest is. Just like Cross Fitters winning a national championship is.

But all of these put your health in jeopardy.

Regardless, Goggins’ story is amazing.

For the most part, I agree with Epictetus. Man is not disturbed by the things, until it is the thing that brings the pain and suffering of not having your health, body, or peace of mind.

Do not risk it to be tough.

Create your own self-improvement path and be happy on it, regardless of how big or small hard or easy or simple or short it is.

A better version of you doesn’t have to be painfully tough every day, in fact, it should have more smiles, laughter, and balance. The journey to progress is all that matters.

Go find that happily.