A big company runs an experiment, they’ll give it one try and if it fails they’ll give up. That’s actually one of the ways startups compete: because they can’t give up. If they do then they shut down. They can’t quit.
— Bill Gurley on The Tim Ferriss Show
I’ve talked to many Navy SEALs; many friends have served, and many others have become close friends.
I always like asking them about Hell Week. People make it out like it’s a mythical experience, and it definitely is. Part of the reason I ask is because I appreciate hearing about that mythical lore; I also like it because the answers are always consistently profound. Every SEAL, to a man, says the same thing:
“I knew I wouldn’t quit.”
Some people are built for this. Their capacity for pain is so high that they can take it and push forward. Most people won’t do that. And WON’T is the correct word here. Every SEAL will tell you that you CAN do it. It is a choice.
People don’t like to believe it’s a choice though, because that means that there’s no one to blame but themselves. A choice means there is no place to hide. Which is one of the worst feelings you can have.
We all experience moments of adversity, moments where we have a choice between quitting or not. We get plenty of them throughout our lives. When I face them, I like to ask myself, what would a SEAL do?
No place to hide
Maybe you think it’s ridiculous to compare yourself to a Navy SEAL. I get that. But one SEAL said something to me that I always think about:
The average person doesn’t give themselves enough credit for what they deal with. Stress is like pain — it’s all relative. If you've only had a paper cut, that's a 10 for pain. If you then break your leg, that becomes a new 10. It's all relative, stress is stress. Could be a family member getting sick, or a friend passing away.
The bottom line is all the same. Everyone deals with challenges, and on a relative basis, we usually are all fighting our own battles, sometimes wars. We just have different languages and vocabularies for them.
Now some things are different. Someone calling you a name is not the same as getting shot in the leg. But I don’t think that’s what this person was saying. He was saying that everyone has a mission. We all have value systems. And sometimes we hit a really brutal road bump, or a horrible rough patch of road. When that happens, we can’t go over it, we can’t go under it, we just have to get through it.
If you view it through that lens, then yes — we’ve all been to (our own version of) war. I’m immensely grateful that people have made, and continue to make, the greatest sacrifice to ensure that we don’t actually have to go through the other version. I will never belittle that. This piece is about the different, internal battles we all face. The wars we’ve all raged.
I’ve been to war. And so have you. We all have, and so have the people that have come before us. Everyone has their own share of scars, and they make us who we are today.
The question then becomes, how do you weather the storm? How do you persevere?
Sledgehammer time
A close founder friend was recently slogging through a raise. There were multiple times they weren’t sure if they’d pull it off.
It’s really difficult during dark moments like that. It really does feel like there’s no place to go, nowhere to hide. There’s not much you can say to help.
One night I decided to talk to him about Navy SEALs and sledgehammers.
There’s a fantastic story from Extreme Ownership about a group of SEALs being pinned down in a 4 story concrete apartment in the Battle of Ramadi, Iraq. Gunfire rained down upon them; the SEALs needed an exit.
An IED blocked the one door out, so they had to find a new way to escape. After looking around, they realized the only other option was to break through a concrete wall on the second floor. The wall was 2+ feet thick of solid concrete though.
Didn’t matter. They sledgehammered their way through it.
The fourth and remaining wall of the second story was solid concrete with no windows, doors, or openings. We certainly couldn’t go around it or over it. But we could go through it.
“Looks like it’s time to BTF,” said the LPO (leading petty officer). It meant we were about to tackle another serious feat of strength and toughness that would challenge us to our physical limits. But Charlie Platoon took great pride in accomplishing such feats. “Let’s get our sledgehammer on!”
The LPO called for the “sledge” and went to work. He began swinging the hammer with full force against the concrete wall, each swing impacted with a loud, head-jarring THWACK! He and a handful of other SEALs rotated every few minutes as they hammered through the thick wall. It was painfully slow, back-breaking work. We needed a hole big enough for operators with rucksacks and heavy gear to walk through onto the flat rooftop of the one-story building next door.
After a solid twenty minutes of furious sledgehammering, the LPO and his rotating crew of BTF SEALs finally broke through the concrete wall. They were winded and sweating profusely in the sweltering heat, but we now had an alternate exit that would enable us to circumvent the IED threat.
The SEALs went on to win the fight.
Embrace the Grind
Most people hear that story and say how badass it is. They intuitively recognize that there’s no special tactics involved here. It’s just a lot of hard work and execution.
I think that’s the point, though. And there is something interesting, specifically this sentence:
But Charlie Platoon took great pride in accomplishing such feats. “Let’s get our sledgehammer on!”
They were eager to get after it. They wanted the challenge. They wanted to BTF their way out.
A few pages before the sledgehammer story, the authors explain what BTF means:
We had “BTF’ed in,” as our chief called it. BTF stood for “Big Tough Frogman,” an unofficial mantra adopted by Charlie Platoon. BTF entailed taking on substantial physical exertion and great risk and persevering by simply being a Big Tough Frogman.
With that context, it’s easy to see that BTF is one of their pillars, their words to live by.
No one likes hitting a concrete wall for 20 minutes. But Charlie Platoon knew they needed to get it done, and found a way to make it fun.
I’ve seen this in sports and startups — there’s always going to be shit you need to deal with. The way I see it, you can either try holding your breath and ignore the stench, or you can smile while you get after it. The best teams I’ve been associated with all have this trait: they find ways to make the mundane grunt work enjoyable, as small as it may be.
Sometimes the work is definitely harder, the stakes higher, but the prevailing principle remains the same. The best embrace the grind.
The grind is inescapable after all, so you might as well enjoy it. Like that one SEAL mentioned, we all fight our own firefights. You can either let them consume you, or you can find ways to push through, and maybe even thrive.
The best moments in life come from times when your back is against the wall. When you’re forced to create within the constraints you’re given.
Sometimes you can whip out an elegant, creative solution. But usually you need to roll up your sleeves and get your sledgehammer on.
The magic happens when that suddenly becomes fun.
Defying the Odds
I’ve wanted to write this piece for a while, I just didn’t have a great reason to finish it. But today I was getting lunch with another founder who just successfully completed his fundraise. He had endured his own slog to get to this point; he had done all this grueling hard work to put himself in a position to succeed. He and his team got into that four story building. He just needed money to buy that sledgehammer so they could break through that concrete.
He got the money, bought the sledgehammer, and now his team is BTF’ing their way through the wall.
As he talked about the lessons he’s learned, I found myself coming back to this post.
If you believe in something, chances are people will think you’re wrong. They will be the first to let you know, and they’ll be very adamant about it too.
History’s replete with example, after example, after example. There’s a whole Twitter account devoted to it.
The hard thing is sometimes, they’re right. But every successful person I’ve talked to will say people doubted them. Doesn’t matter what they do for a living. It’s a constant in the stories of all extraordinary people.
The key thing is not letting it derail you. Take in feedback, where applicable. But most of it is just noise, not worthy of your time or energy. The secret to success is not letting doubt consume your mind.
Fear shows up on its own. Doubt has to be invited. Fear heightens your awareness; it makes you alert. Doubt is the opposite; it slows you down and paralyzes your thinking. Fear is about playing to win. Doubt is about playing to not lose.
— Tim Grover, Winning
The best founders I’ve worked and spent time with all say that it comes down to this. They wouldn’t let doubt win. “I knew I wouldn’t quit.”
This brings us back to the SEALs.
Their existence is predicated on doing things that everyone else deems impossible. They’re the group that defies the odds, and does what it takes to succeed.
That’s why they don’t complain when shit hits the fan. Or more accurately, when rockets strike and bullets fly. They dust themselves off and get their sledgehammer on. And they enjoy the grind too. That’s the only way you can consistently operate in that type of environment.
If you’re chewing glass and staring into the abyss, you might as well have some fun with it. Because if you’re alive then that means there’s a chance you can still make it happen, whatever it is you’re working on.
Maybe people will think you’re ill-equipped to win, that your idea is dumb, that you’re not smart enough, or that you’re a blunt instrument. Doesn’t matter. Screw them. They don’t know what you do. They’re not sledgehammering through concrete.
I’m certain that if you told a Navy SEAL you doubted them, they wouldn’t care. They know what they’re capable of. And they’re more qualified to know that than anyone else is. Sometimes plans might not pan out, but on a long enough time scale, SEALs get the job done. The mission will be accomplished. Because they won’t give up.
That’s all you have to do. Keep moving forward.
As Richard “Mack” Machowicz, a fallen SEAL, famously said: “Not dead, can’t quit.”
Not dead. Can’t quit.
It is more than I won't quit. It is more than that. "I won't quit." is just a place to start. What the BUD/S instructors are looking for is the combination of "I won't quit." + "I will NEVER let my team down."
That second part is what separates the wheat from the chaff.
I'm ready to run through a wall now. Great article, GG