How I Stay Hungry When No One’s Watching

These days, no one’s handing out medals for my performance.

There are no scholarships to chase. No coaches screaming on the sidelines. No one waiting to

post my splits on Instagram.

It’s just me. A 41-year-old bloke carving out time to train around work, family, and whatever

curveballs life throws my way.

And yet I’m still out here. Still grinding. Still chasing.

Why?

Because one day, my kids will look at how I lived, not just what I said.

I want them to know that discipline doesn’t need a crowd.

That showing up - day after day - when no one’s watching, no one’s clapping, and no one’s

promising a prize - that’s where character is built.

And beyond that, I want time. Not just for me, but for them.

I’ve read the research. VO2 max and strength are two of the strongest indicators of

longevity. I want to be the dad who’s still running with them at 50. Still lifting things at 60.

Still walking beside them - literally and figuratively - for as long as life lets me.

That hunger you feel in your 20s, it’s loud. It’s built on proving something. Winning

something. Impressing someone.

But this hunger is quieter. Sharper. It’s about preserving something. Protecting it. Honouring

it.

So no, I’m not always motivated. But I’m anchored. I’ve got a clear why.

And that’s what pulls me out the door on a freezing Thursday morning. That’s what helps me

chase my potential when no one else even knows I’m running.

Because I’m not just training for a race. I’m training for a life.

And if that mindset speaks to you - if you're trying to build something lasting - that’s the kind of work I love doing with others.