Your Daily Boost – Episode 675

Two Ways to Make It Hurt Less

By the time Friday morning rolled around, I realized something that probably shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did. Earlier in the week, I had given my son a piece of advice that felt solid, grounded, and true. It wasn’t dramatic or motivational in the highlight-reel sense. It was practical. It was calm. It was meant to help him navigate something uncomfortable without letting it turn into something overwhelming. And then, standing here at the end of the week, I realized that advice wasn’t really for him. It was for me.

On Tuesday morning, he was heading back to school after a long holiday break, worried about how bad basketball conditioning was going to feel. He hadn’t done much cardio over the break. He knew it. I knew it. Anyone who has ever stepped back onto a court after time off knows that first practice doesn’t negotiate. It just shows up and demands its pound of flesh.

I told him what most coaches eventually teach their players anyway: everyone is going to hurt. Nobody is immune. The difference is how you decide to experience it. You can make it worse by panicking, resisting, or spiraling in your head. Or you can accept the discomfort, stay present, and let it pass without giving it more power than it deserves.

What I didn’t say out loud was the other side of that truth. The part that applies just as much to me.

There was another way this could have hurt less — and that was by doing the work earlier. I didn’t say it because it wasn’t the moment for a lecture. And maybe, if I’m honest, because I didn’t want to sound like a hypocrite. I’ve missed workouts. I’ve taken breaks that turned into longer breaks. I’ve told myself I’d “get back to it next week” more times than I’d like to admit. So I wasn’t standing there as some perfectly disciplined example. But the principle still stood. And by Friday, I realized it belonged to me just as much as it did to him.

There’s something strange about the first full week of a year. While you’re in it, the days feel heavy. Monday feels like it might never end. Wednesday feels like it should already be Friday. By the time you reach the end, it’s tempting to think, “That was a long one.”

Then you look back. And somehow, it’s already over.

That’s been true for me this week. It wasn’t an easy week. It wasn’t a perfect one. There were moments of momentum, moments of friction, and moments where I had to remind myself why I started this year the way I did. But standing here now, the week feels smaller than it did when I was living it. Contained. Survivable. Informative. That’s not accidental.

I came into this week mentally prepared. Not hyped. Not overcaffeinated. Prepared. I knew it wasn’t going to be smooth. I knew routines would feel rusty. I knew my patience would get tested. But I also knew that nothing was going to happen that I hadn’t already imagined in some form. That preparation didn’t eliminate discomfort.

It just made it hurt less.

Two ways to make anything hurt less

This is the quiet truth I keep coming back to as I think about this week, and about the year ahead. There are always two ways to make something hurt less.

The first is internal. You manage what’s happening in your head. You don’t catastrophize. You don’t turn discomfort into a referendum on your worth. You stay present. You breathe. You accept that some things are supposed to be uncomfortable and temporary. This is the kind of mental toughness that lets you walk through difficulty without letting it define you.

The second is external. You do the work before the moment arrives. You prepare. You build capacity when no one is watching so that when the moment comes, it doesn’t knock the wind out of you. This is discipline. Not the flashy kind. The boring, unglamorous kind that quietly reduces suffering later.

Most of us live somewhere between these two.

We manage what we can internally when we haven’t done as much externally as we hoped. Or we lean on preparation to make up for moments when our mindset wobbles. Rarely is it all one or the other. That’s where I am heading into 2026.

This year isn’t about pretending I’ll never miss a workout or never overthink something again. It’s about recognizing which lever I’m pulling in a given moment. Am I managing the discomfort mentally? Or am I avoiding the preparation that would make it easier next time?

Neither approach is morally superior. But pretending there aren’t two options is how we lie to ourselves.

Pot, kettle, mirror

I’m not writing this as someone who has it all figured out. If anything, this week reminded me how easy it is to slip back into old patterns if you’re not paying attention. There were moments where I could feel that familiar internal resistance creep in — the part of me that wants to delay, to negotiate, to say “tomorrow” instead of “today.”

I noticed it. That matters. Because awareness is where choice lives.

I wasn’t trying to be a hypocrite with my son. I wasn’t pretending I’ve mastered consistency. I was sharing a principle that applies regardless of how perfectly you’ve executed it. And by Friday, I realized that the same advice was quietly waiting for me to accept it. This first week wasn’t hard. It also wasn’t effortless. It had ups and downs. It had moments where the work felt light and moments where it felt heavier than expected. But it hurt less than it would have a year ago — not because I avoided discomfort, but because I was mentally ready for it.

That’s progress. Not perfection. Progress.

One down, fifty-one to go

There’s a strange relief in realizing the first week is behind you. It doesn’t mean the year is suddenly easier. It means you’ve stepped into it. You’ve moved from planning to participation.

You’re no longer speculating about how things might feel — you’re experiencing them.

I’m proud of my son for facing something uncomfortable without flinching. I’m proud of myself for recognizing where I could apply the same lesson instead of just dispensing it. And I’m proud of this week, imperfect as it was, for being honest. That’s how momentum actually builds.

Not from dramatic declarations, but from small acknowledgments that you’re capable of more than you think — and responsible for more than you sometimes want to admit.

This year is going to be a mix of mental resilience and actual preparation. Some days will hurt less because of mindset. Others will hurt less because of discipline. The trick isn’t choosing one forever. It’s knowing which one the moment calls for.

One week down. Fifty-one to go. And if there’s one thing I hope you remember tomorrow morning, it’s this:

There are always two ways to make it hurt less.

Have a great Weekend!