Maximizing Potential by Embracing Discomfort
““We can do more than what we think.” It’s a belief system that I have adopted, and it
has become my motto. There is more than meets the eye, and unless you are willing to
experience new things, you’ll never realize your full potential.” -Wim Hof
Continuous learning has been a constant in my life, a blend of innate curiosity and the nurturing I received during my upbringing. Laziness wasn’t an option in our household. My mom was a single mother who juggled earning a bachelor’s degree, full-time work, and raising three active boys. She set an example and clearly communicated the importance of setting goals, participating in extracurricular activities, completing household chores, and maintaining part-time jobs. This upbringing instilled responsibility and discipline, critical traits that fueled my lifelong engagement in learning and growth, from basic tasks to higher-stakes pursuits like team sports, military service, and professional career development.
The underdog role has always suited me. In my freshman year, I was a 135-pound basketball player, but I lacked the size and athleticism for the guard position, and it was clear that I didn’t have much of a future in basketball. My basketball coach suggested I switch to football. As a sophomore, I was a 180-pound former basketball player finally convinced to try football. Our football program was led by Coach George Smith, a legendary figure reminiscent of Bear Bryant, Beau Schembechler, and Woody Hayes. His office walls were adorned with pictures of these coaches, relics from his early days in the 70s. He had coached at the school for over 30 years, building a perennial state championship contender that had national recognition for the numerous college and NFL athletes the program produced. Coach Smith, a rough and direct leader, given my frame, believed I could find a place on the team as a wide receiver. He must have assumed I was fast because my brothers could jump out of the gym, and my oldest brother was speedy. He assumed wrong, but either way, this scrawny sophomore confidently told one of the greatest high school coaches of all time that I was going to play defensive end. He raised an eyebrow, but surprisingly, I didn’t receive one of his infamous verbal lashings. Although I would get plenty of those in the years to follow. At the time, our varsity offensive line averaged 6’6” and 300 pounds, with three starters eventually playing in the NFL. After JV season, I was pulled up to the varsity practice squad as a punching bag for our starting offense. Playing against that offensive line as an undersized defensive end was a trial by fire. However, the confidence, grit, and technique I developed proved pivotal, leading to a starting role in my senior year and interest from smaller Division I and Division I-AA football programs.
Ultimately, I chose to attend the United States Military Academy at West Point. I didn’t resonate with the Air Force Academy's football recruiters’ “country club” of service academies pitch. Those were the coach’s words, not mine. If I were going to commit, I wanted to go all in. The first question I always get is whether I come from a military family. My grandfather served in Korea, but otherwise, there was no military influence in the family. Growing up in South Florida, joining the service wasn’t common. While my friends went to UCF, FSU, USF, and UF, I headed to West Point. When my classmates learned of my commitment on National Signing Day, one asked if that meant I was going to Afghanistan, highlighting the limited awareness of the military academies in our area. My visit to West Point was during a cold, wet, and rainy winter day, typical for five months of the year, far from the sunny Fort Lauderdale I was used to. Amidst the miserable conditions, I observed the stress of the fourth-class cadets, the academic rigor, and the strict discipline. My mother had prepared me for the discipline, but the academic rigor was another beast. Academics weren’t my thing; I was actually dead set on passing on college to enlist in the Marines. The summer before my senior year, I even visited a Marine recruiting center with our team’s strength and conditioning coach, Coach B. Luckily, Coaches B and Smith dissuaded me from enlisting. Coach Smith told me, in a direct and not-so-nice way, how he felt about my interest in the Marine Corps, especially given my football prospects with the service academies, among other schools. Yeah, it was one of those verbal lashing moments. While West Point wouldn’t be easy, I was drawn to the challenge. After graduating and fulfilling my five-year commitment to the US Army, I pursued a career in software sales. There are many resources for veterans transitioning to civilian life, typically leading to an MBA or JD, or a project management role through a headhunting firm. I explored various schools, but after learning about the earning potential in software sales from a mentor of mine, I sought a software company with a strong culture, effective leadership, and growth opportunities. This less-traveled path proved fruitful, offering financial upside and leadership growth in a sales career. The transition from the Army to the private sector isn’t easy. Veterans often struggle to understand how their skills translate into a corporate context, and businesses either pigeonhole veterans into specific functions or fail to recognize how their background aligns with the company’s needs. The comfortable path would have been to follow my peers, but I chose discomfort.
Beneath the household discipline, athletic training, and military service, the most crucial element for learning and growth was getting comfortable with discomfort. In each instance, the uncomfortable choice led to growth, learning, lasting relationships, and rewarding outcomes. Time over tension builds strength.
As I will discuss more in subsequent posts and articles, I am at an inflection point in my career and life. I am taking a sabbatical to travel the world, engage in introspection, and ultimately pursue my entrepreneurial interests. I aim to develop stronger communication skills by utilizing social platforms and expressing my truth. Sharing personal anecdotes and lessons learned through social media is a new level of discomfort. While writing and self-promotion aren’t in my comfort zone, I am called to move from being a consumer of information to a source of information. I’ve faced discomfort both physically and mentally, but now I'm embracing the discomfort that comes with vulnerability and creative endeavors. Over the past two years, I’ve consumed audiobooks and podcasts voraciously, inspired by figures like Steven Bartlett, Tim Ferriss, Ramit Sethi, Arthur Brooks, Bill Perkins, Paul Millard, and Luke Burgis, to name a few. Two themes stand out: there’s little truly original content, and the messenger’s voice and background can make similar content resonate differently with an audience. I’m taking what I’ve learned and sharing it through my own experiences, hoping to expand the reach of these creators. You should expect more articles on finance, health, wellness, leadership, travel, and faith. Additionally, I will be launching a podcast, discussing similar topics with my guests.
There’s so much knowledge about living healthier and happier, yet we still face mental health crises and social isolation. I’m repackaging existing information through my experiences, hoping to connect with those who can benefit from the message. If you’re interested in following along, subscribe below to join my mailing list, The Vibe, and follow me on Instagram @Tenable Vibrations.
I would love to hear from you. Comment below. How are you embracing discomfort to promote growth in your life?