Why I Went To Navy SEAL Selection

When I graduated high school, I had one goal:

Train like my life depended on it for a year, join the Navy, and become a Navy SEAL.

I had planned this for years.

I was on the track before sunrise, running in the single lane I shoveled out of the snow, watching my breath in the below freezing temperatures.

Swimming in the muddy open water of an Ohio lake, my brain drowning out the concerns of infections and parasites in water that I couldn’t see more than a few inches in.

Ending my nights splitting my callouses open on my homemade pull-up bar in my parents back yard.

Everything I had done up to this point in my life was with one goal in mind:

Successfully complete training and become a SEAL.

I knew the statistics and what was at stake.

Over 90% don’t finish and make it to a team.

And if you’re not successful,

The Navy sticks you wherever they need a warm body… which normally means the shitty jobs no one signs up for.

Some of those jobs are nothing less than indentured slavery:

8 hours greasing anchor chains by hand,

Followed by a 12 hour watch,

And then 2-5 hours to either workout, sleep, or shower.

Repeat 7 days in a row for an entire ship's deployment.

One of my friends told me they had a “good deployment” when they “only” had 3 suicides.

My gut twisted into knots when he said that.

Not only was I risking my job satisfaction if things didn’t work out,

But also my mental health, time to build a career, and potentially my life.

Would I fail and end up jumping off of a ship under the inhumane conditions?

So why do it?

Because I couldn’t stand the idea of waking up at 40 and wondering “What if?”

At the time, I had Teddy Roosevelt’s The Man In The Arena hanging up right next to my door,

Where I could read it every time I left for the gym.

“The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena…. who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

Reading that gave me clarity.

I could deal with the fallout of failing while daring greatly.

But I couldn’t live with the regret of never trying… and always wondering.

So I signed the papers.

I showed up.

Spoiler alert: It didn’t work out. (that’s a story for another time)

But the person I became by taking the leap?

That stuck with me.

That one decision made every other big decision in my life easier:

Leaving the Navy,

Getting back into endurance racing,

Doing my first powerlifting meet,

Starting my coaching business,

All things I decided to do so I’ll never have to wonder “What if?”

Because I can deal with failure.

What I can’t deal with is regret.

Now it’s your turn.

That thing you keep putting off?

The race you’ve bookmarked six times but haven’t actually signed up for?

The meet you keep “waiting until you’re ready” for?

The coach you keep telling yourself you’ll hire “someday”?

That’s your arena.

I can tell you from experience:

While failure is extremely hard…

It’s way easier than regret.

Do it scared.

Do it imperfectly.

But for the love of your future self, do it.

Sincerely,

Justin

P.S. If you need some inspiration, read the full speech: “The Man In The Arena”