What is he doing?

He says he wants to build his own business.

He says he wants to work for himself.

He says he wants to delete LinkedIn forever and never apply for a job again.

Yet look at him. He wakes up early, sure, but the morning leaks away in mindless scrolling. Surface work at best. He reads about success more than he works toward it.

So does he actually want to work for himself, or is that just a story he keeps repeating?

Much of his doubt comes from the past. He has started and shuttered more ventures than he can count. At twenty-two he considered medical school, took the MCAT, then veered off to launch a medical-records startup. He pictured himself as the bold founder who would change the world, one product at a time.

That company closed. He was too green.

After that he learned to code, earned an MBA, joined other startups, started still more of his own. Each time he pushed toward the finish line, but never quite crossed it.

His dreams echoed the pattern. Night after night he ran toward a building that drew closer yet felt farther. The nearer he came, the heavier his feet. Eventually he dropped to a crawl, then froze in place, the goal just out of reach. He always woke tense, as if every muscle had tried to move and failed.

He told himself this was how life went: start, get close, fall short.

Repeat it long enough and the story writes itself into fact. Whether the project was his or someone else’s, he would do eighty or ninety percent of the work, then stall.

Lately he wonders if he simply has not tried hard enough. Maybe the early mornings could be better used. Maybe he should leave the apartment, sit among people who push him. Or maybe he should give up, accept the dream is done.

But then another part of his life presses forward.

His body. His fitness. He shows up for every workout and loves the hardest sessions most. Hill repeats? Yes, plus a few extra. Heavy weights? Add plates. A marathon? Sign him up (for his next one and counting).

That relentless voice — the one that demands one more rep, one more mile — lives in the same brain that says he cannot finish the final ten percent. So what is different?

Running came with no baggage. He began as a true beginner. No old storyline said he could not succeed. He arrived curious, hungry, free.

If he wants to build a business that lasts, he will have to shed the stale narratives. Approach this venture as if it is the first. Because it is, for this version of him. He carries years of lessons, growth, and leadership. He already has what he needs.

Only one thing blocks the way: the threadbare story written twenty years ago.

He decides to write a new one. The next chapter ends with him crossing the line at full speed. The same brain that powers him through races can carry him through this.

He can.

He will.

Let the past go.

Take a breath.

Fly.

What old narrative are you ready to retire? Share it below or send this to a friend who needs a new storyline.