I didn’t grow up thinking of myself as a philosopher. I’m not the type to sit around pondering life’s meaning or debating which came first—the CrossFitter or the CrossFitter who comments that they CrossFit. I leave that stuff to people who are smarter than me and drive Priuses. If you want to talk Star Wars mythology or Kurt Vonnegut, or even Jason Bourne’s best fight scenes, I’m all ears. So yeah, I’m not what you’d call a philosophical person. I put my socks on the same way as everyone else. But something recently struck a chord while I was listening to a podcast: a simple quote—“Discomfort builds growth.”
Discomfort Builds Growth
Let it sink in for a moment.
The easiest, and most fitting, analogy is the stuff we do in the weight room. I don’t go to the gym day after day because it feels nice. I go because I want to feel strong, look strong, and have a build that could deflect bullets. But how many people keep doing the same routine, with the same exercises, in the same order, with the same weight, and never progress? You’ve probably seen someone like that—maybe even you.
I’ve worked with countless people as a personal trainer and strength coach. About 98.5% of them “get it.” They know they have to put in the work to get the results they’re after. They don’t expect muscles to appear out of nowhere or to walk under a rainbow and shed five dress sizes. They have to EARN it. They’ll lift barbells, push the Prowler, swing kettlebells, perform endless push-ups and pull-ups, tolerate Wu-Tang Wednesdays—and love to hate it. In plain terms, they’re comfortable with being uncomfortable.
This isn’t about pushing to the point of collapse. Easy Training is Good Training. But simply showing up at the gym doesn’t mean much. Why drive there just to walk on a treadmill?
For many people, those we admire for their physiques are the ones who actually embrace discomfort. It’s physiology. The body is a highly adaptive machine. Progress stalls when people keep doing the same things or stick to what they’re already good at—because that’s human nature. I know I’ll catch flak for saying this, but a common pitfall is people who gravitate toward cardio. Steady-state cardio is important as part of a well-rounded program, but it’s often overemphasized because it’s easy. And since people like easy, there’s a point of diminishing returns: you have to do more cardio to burn the same calories. And just burning calories for its own sake isn’t very exciting.
As my friend Bryan Krahn notes, three one-hour treadmill sessions will burn calories and improve cardio, sure, but you’re missing other benefits. Swap those three hours for three hours of martial arts, and you’ll burn a similar amount of calories while training different movement planes and improving flexibility—things basic gym training doesn’t always address. A core part of my training philosophy is exposing yourself to new things, identifying weaknesses, and fixing them. I call it having no holes in your game.
The same mindset applies to lifting. For a muscle to grow, you need enough stimulus to break down the muscle filaments—actin and myosin. With proper recovery and calories, you’ll get bigger and stronger. Yet many trainees miss the mark: a lack of intent and purpose in how they train. Some people think merely walking into a gym and looking at a dumbbell will produce results.
This applies to life, too.
There have been several moments when leaning into discomfort served a greater good for me. Some of you might remember how meeting someone over the internet used to feel borderline creepy in 2004. I met Eric Cressey online through training forums (notably T-Nation). When he graduated from UCONN, he landed a job at a gym in Ridgefield, CT, and he told me they were still looking for another trainer. I was ready for a fresh start, so I applied. Within two weeks, I moved to Connecticut to start a new job with a guy I’d only met once in person. I had to reassure my mom I wouldn’t get murdered. In the end, it turned out well.
And there was the time my wife, Lisa, asked me to try a sip of her whisky from Scotland. It tasted like battery acid. It was brutal. But you win some, you lose some.
Discomfort, trying new things, taking risks, doing things differently, challenging yourself—both in the gym and in life. Maybe that’s the missing link for some people.
