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Happy Monday,

Sorry you're receiving this on Monday instead of Sunday, but I have a good reason, honestly.

I’ve been recovering from carrying 40kg Atlas balls, crawling under barbed wire, and battling with self-doubt.

On Saturday, I took on the Spartan Beast—21 kilometres of running with 30 brutal obstacles. Everything from monkey bars and rope climbs to sandbag carries, water dips, bucket carries, and yes, even crawling through mud that smelled like cow manure.

My body has had a chance to recover slightly, although if you do see me, I’m hobbling around like a penguin, and my elbows are in bits.

Some of you might be thinking,

“Wait, doesn’t Lawrence suffer from chronic pain? Why is he putting himself through this?”

On paper, it doesn’t make sense. But to me, it makes perfect sense.

Let me explain.

For the last five months, I’ve been training for this. It’s part of a trifecta, three brutal races before I turn 40 next year.

When I was lying in a hospital bed all those years ago, relearning how to walk, I made a promise. I said if I ever got back to a place where I could move, even a little, I wouldn’t waste it.

I’d use every ounce of mobility I had. I’d try things. Push myself. Say yes to the hard stuff especially if it scared me.

So that’s why I did it.

Still, despite the training and being in the best shape I’ve been in for years, self-doubt hit hard last week.

Thursday, I had a minor pain flare-up. My knee was burning, slightly swollen, and I was limping.

I was in a lot of pain. But it started to make the other little niggles feel worse too. My elbow, my ankle… I began to question whether those were genuine injuries or if the knee pain was exaggerating everything and messing with my head.

Thursday night, I became even more nervous.

The pain hadn’t settled, and I thought, “Am I even going to make it to the start line?”

So I did what I always do. Painkillers, lidocaine patches, hoping this would help.,

While lying in bed, I made a decision, no matter what happened between Friday and Saturday, I was getting to that start line. Even if I had to crawl, limp, or walk the whole course, I was showing up.

Because pain might live with me, but it doesn’t get to run my life.

Friday came. Still some pain in my knee, but better than Thursday.

I had a full day ahead of me. I was on site at school doing an IT audit, which meant I was on my feet nonstop.

Not exactly the prep I had in mind for the night before a Spartan.

And that night? I couldn’t sleep. My mind wouldn’t shut off.

“What if my body gives out?

What if I let the team down?

What if all this training goes to waste?

What if I end up with a DNF (Did Not Finish) next to my name?”

But somehow, by the morning, a strange calm had settled in. After all that self-doubt, I reminded myself,

“Look how far you’ve come. You could barely walk back then.

And now you’re here.

You’ve got this.”

I met up with my team, we arrived at the venue, and just 15 minutes before the start, one of the elite athletes finished.

His eyes were red. We asked how the course was, and he looked straight at us, like he was piercing through our souls, and said,

“It’s hard.”

He wasn’t lying. It was brutal.

By far the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Some of those hills had me crawling up like a bear.

The carries were heavy. And yes, we had to dunk our heads under freezing muddy water that smelled like manure but this what I signed up for.

Around the 15K mark, my knees started to go.

I told myself, “You’re not getting a DNF today.”

Every hill made it worse, climbing up and even more coming down.

But I didn’t speak the pain out loud. I knew if I did, it would grow. So I kept pushing. On the flat bits, I ran.

What helped?

My team. We moved as one. No one got left behind. We pushed each other. Carried each other. And near the end, I saw my family.

That was it.

My body was cooked, but hearing my little boy shout,

“There’s Daddy! There’s Daddy!” gave me a final burst.

I flew through the last few obstacles like I was fresh.

That might be the only time I left my team behind. Lol.

I finished.

One third of the trifecta, done. Next race: August 17th. Then October.

What surprised me most? There was still more in the tank.

From a fitness point of view, I had it, though my knees might say otherwise.

Even though I was hurting. Even though self-doubt whispered all the way through, there was more.

That’s the thing about self-doubt, it doesn’t always show up loudly. Sometimes it sits quietly in the background, waiting for you to hesitate. To play it safe.

To pull back instead of leaning in.

And honestly, it makes sense. That voice is trying to protect you.

It's wired to keep you comfortable, unbruised, and unbothered.

But comfort doesn’t equal growth.

And self-doubt doesn’t get to make the final call.

You don’t need to silence it. You don’t need to defeat it.

You just need to recognise it for what it is, and choose to move anyway.

Because once you do that, once you show up, knees aching and mind racing, you realise the fear was never as strong as you thought.

The voice gets quieter. The next step feels lighter. And suddenly, you're doing the thing it said you couldn't.

That’s where the real shift happens.

Quote of the Week

See you next week!
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