You can do anything you put your mind to… except the things you can’t do, even if you put your mind to them. You can’t regrow your toes. You can’t urinate from your iris. You can’t fly (unless you’re high). As such, doubting your potential is natural. You’re going to think things like… How lean [...]
You can do anything you put your mind to… except the things you can’t do, even if you put your mind to them.
You can’t regrow your toes.
You can’t urinate from your iris.
You can’t fly (unless you’re high).
As such, doubting your potential is natural. You're going to think things like…
How lean can I get?
How strong can I get?
How muscular can I get?
How whatever can I whatever?
I think about my potential often. Being a semi-pro pessimist doesn't help. Because there's no such thing as shooting for the moon and landing among the stars. There’s only shooting for the moon, not reaching the moon, and then dying alone in vacuum of space, hating yourself for having the hubris to think you could land on the moon.
I wanna show you a little game I play with myself whenever I'm doubting my potential.
And, no, the game isn't masturbation. Getting a firsthand feel for my lack of potential is the last thing I do when I'm doubting my potential.
I call this game Godfather Gambling because it's all about making yourself an offer you can't refuse. Lemme explain…
There are two versions of Godfather Gambling. We'll start with the simpler version. To give your brain some friction, let's assume your name is Anthony Mychal, and you're questioning your bench press strength.
You say this.
I don't think I can bench press 275-pounds. I’ve been benching for years. Haven’t come close to lifting 275-pounds. I'm guessing I don’t have good genetics. I don't think my body is built for benching. I’m 6’4″. My longer limbs must be sabotaging me.
I say this.
Why is “Mychal” spelled so weird? Anyways, I see you're frustrated. Been there. I can help. I'm gonna make you an offer. If you're able to bench 275-pounds within the next 12-months, I'll give you $1,000,000 cash. Will you accept my offer?
I'm no Nostradamus, but I'm betting you would. And then you'd run to the gym and train religiously for 365-days. In other words, you don't believe you're limited by your potential.
If you truly believed potential was your bottleneck, you'd have to decline my offer.
No incentive would motivate you. You stop playing the game once you reach Level 99 because reaching Level 100 is impossible.
Often, when we blame potential for our shortcomings, don't actually believe we're limited by our potential. We're simply protecting our ego. Because even though potential is a possible bottleneck, it's not the only bottleneck. Getting stronger is also slave to strategy and effort. Same goes for losing fat, building muscle, and blah blah blah…
Strategy and effort:
- Working hard enough
- Working often enough
- Working smart enough
If you point the finger at strategy/effort, you have to swallow things you'd rather not have in your mouth:
- You aren't working hard enough.
- I'M LAZY!
- You aren't working often enough.
- I'M UNRELIABLE!
- You aren't working smart enough.
- I'M DUMB!
Blaming your potential is easier. IT'S NOT ME, IT'S YOU. We'd rather not blame ourselves for our shortcomings.
Potential is the perfect scapegoat.
As a former skinny-fat dude, I know what it's like to feel like an underdog. I still feel like an underdog. I question my potential and compare myself to others.
He has a square jaw! Of course he's stronger than me. I can wrap my hand around my wrist and touch pinky finger to thumb. My thin bones aren't meant to be strong and muscular.
But then I make myself a Godfather Gamble. When I inject juicy incentives into the equation, when the prospect of winning one-milly dilly enters the conversation, I think about
[what I would do]
which gets compared to
[what I've been doing]
and then I see the truth.
If one-million dollars was on the line, I wouldn't have drank beer all weekend. I would have squeezed out one extra rep on Wednesday. I would sleep eight hours every night…
Godfather Gambling indirectly puts [strategy] and [effort] under the microscope and makes you realize how much harder and smarter you could be working.
If you can be working harder and smarter, then your potential isn't clogging your pipes.
Here's the rule: If you flinch upon injecting juicy incentives into the equation, then potential isn’t your bottleneck. And you know it. You're using potential as a scapegoat, to preserve your ego and to protect yourself from the truth:
you aren't working hard enough,
you aren't working often enough,
you aren't working smart enough.
May the Gains be with you,
Ant
ps
The advanced version of Godfather Gambling accomplishes the same thing as the simpler version, but in a much more combative (fun!) way.
The simple version has a downside: There's no skin in the game. If I walked up to some random dude on the street and made him a simple Godfather Gamble, he'd have no reason to decline my offer. He can't get hurt. He either wins one-millions dollars, or he doesn't.
Advanced Godfather Gamble is a little different…
Yoda descends from the clouds. Yoda is a master at helping humanoid creatures achieve x, with x being the usual: get stronger, lose fat, build muscle, whatever…
For consistency's sake, let's assume you're still the same smelly Anthony Mychal, struggling to bench 275-pounds.
*Yoda enters the chat.
Yoda says: I will coach you in the ways of the bench press for one year. This will cost you $100,000 up front.
You say: You are expensive.
Yoda says: My nickname is L’Oréal.
You say: Why?
Yoda says: Because I’m worth it.
You say: I don't have $100,000.
Yoda says: Your genitalia will suffice.
You say: Wait, what?
Yoda says: This is about skin in the game. What did you think “skin in the game” meant? Anyways, stop asking questions. Here's my offer. You pay me $100,00 and I will coach you in the ways of the bench press for one year. At the end of the year, if you are benching 200-pounds, I’ll give you all of your money back AND an extra $100,000. (And you keep your genitalia.) At the end of the year, if you AREN’T benching 200-pounds, I’ll give you all of your money back. (And you keep your genitalia.)
You say: This is a great offer. I accept.
Yoda says: You didn't let me finish.
Yoda says: If you miss any training sessions or don't put forth the required effort (I'll be watching you), then I'll keep the initial $100,000. And I'll also take your genitalia.
You say: Oh. Wait. Well. Uhhh.
Would you accept Yoda's offer? Random dude on the street wouldn't accept Yoda's offer. But if you think your potential is to blame for your shortcomings, then you CAN'T refuse this offer. Because you can't be penalized by your potential.
You can ONLY “lose” if you lack work ethic. In other words, you'd only REJECT Yoda's offer if you doubted your work ethic.
If you're lazy and inconsistent, potential isn't clogging your pipe.