Most people don’t fail because they’re not capable. They fail because they stop.

There really is no secret to success.

It’s not hidden. It’s not locked away. It’s out in the open for everyone to see.

The problem is… we don’t want to see it.

Because the truth isn’t flashy. It’s not fast. It’s not fun to hear.

The truth?

If you want to succeed, you’re going to have to work.

Not just for a few weeks. Not in 30-day sprints. Not with a magic morning routine and a “billionaire habit” you learned on YouTube.

I mean actually work.

Show up — day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year.

And no, I don’t mean 100-hour hustle culture.

Even if you only have an hour a week for your dream, that’s fine. But you have to give that hour. Every week. You have to keep showing up.

That’s the part we don’t want to hear — the long-term consistency required, especially when things feel hard, uncertain, or painfully slow.

The 5-minute time-lapse where you start from zero and end up on stage, smiling and glowing.

We want the shortcut.

The moment you “skip to the good part.”

But here’s the secret:

The good part is the work.

It’s not the goal.

It’s not the metrics.

It’s the joy you feel doing the thing that matters to you.

When you care about the process — when you love the why behind what you’re doing — then the grind becomes meaningful. You show up even when it’s boring. Even when you’re tired. Even when you’re full of doubt.

You show up because it matters to you. And that’s enough.

There’s a phrase I use often (not sure if I read it or made it up) — the valley of sadness. It’s the place between excitement and results.

It’s where you feel stuck.

Where your progress feels invisible.

Where you’re still walking, step by step, but starting to question everything.

You feel alone.

You feel small.

You wonder if you’re wasting your time.

And that’s where most people give up.

I know this, because I was this.

I’ve spent so much of my life giving up in the valley. Starting strong, then slowly convincing myself the results weren’t worth the effort.

But I’m done repeating that pattern.

And if you’re here reading this, maybe you are too.

Training for the NYC Marathon changed everything for me. It took me two years to get there. I had injuries, setbacks, fears. I missed 4 weeks of long runs during training. I doubted myself constantly. But I kept showing up.

I strength trained. I went to PT. I did the work.

And on race day, I ran 26.2 miles.

I crossed the finish line, and I realized:

I can do hard things.

Even in pain. Even in doubt. Even in fear.

That moment rewired me.

It showed me that as long as I keep showing up, I win.

And now, this newsletter? This writing? This podcast? This is my next marathon.

You are capable of wild, incredible, awe-inspiring things.

You don’t have to sprint.

You don’t need to be fearless.

You just need to be brave enough today.

To keep showing up.

To take one more step.

Because that’s what it takes.

That’s what it means to win.

Hit reply and tell me:

What’s your current “valley of sadness”?

What’s the step you’re committed to taking today, even if it feels small?

Forward this to someone who needs to hear they’re doing better than they think.