The Pact

I have a pact with my brothers.

If one of us ever gets overweight, we’re have full permission to call each other out, hold their feet to the fire, and go full drill sergeant on the other one until they’re “unfat.”

The other day – I looked my brother and nodded – he knew what I meant.

Maybe some people would call that mean.

But I’m not just some random dude on the internet slinging insults at him – I’ve got his trust and permission to hold him accountable.

It’s only mean if you don’t have context.

I’m wasn’t making fun of my brother – I was calling him out to let him know he’s not meeting his own standards.

But you know what?

He’s got a plan to fix it now. And he’s killing it.

Sometimes you need someone around you to call you the hell out.

If you’ve looked at all on instagram (or any of social media) lately, there’s a lot of people out there that promote body positivity, acceptance, judgement free zones a la Planet Fitness (don’t worry, I’ll get to them in another email).

I have no desire to make anyone upset with themselves – BUT there is a non-trivial number of people that use that language as a smokescreen to disguise their goal of staying comfortable with the status quo.

And the sad thing is – they have no one that f–king cares enough around them to hold their feet to the fire and make them do the stuff they don’t want to do even though they know they should.

They have no one calling them out. And they have no one calling them up.

In the rush to protect feelings above all else, there’s been a shift – a neglect in the focus on accountability.

No, that’s not the right word. Accountability is overused.

I think there’s a lack of standards.

Both that people hold themselves to and allow themselves to be held to.

In college, I quit basketball and threw javelin for two years. The first thing I loved about the sport was that it was just you and your number.

There was no coach to blame. No lineup issues to fudge “synergy” with. No outside excuses. No intangibles. No BS.

You had the number you threw. That was it.

Everything came down to one thing – you and your number.

Did you throw farther than the next guy? If so, you threw in the meet. If you threw farther the other people in the meet, you won.

But you didn’t just compete against the other guy. You also had your number. Your PR. Your previous best.

And you could always tell whether you were getting stronger and faster – OR if you were getting worse.

There wasn’t any hiding.

Raw data.

Explicit Standards.

You knew what you had to do and you knew who you’d let down if you didn’t.

Standards aren’t prefect – but they’re a hell of a lot better than aiming at nothing.

And I’m not just talking about arbitrary numbers – but standards that call you up to a better person – a better human.

Not outside standards imposed on you by people you don’t care about.

But ones you sign up for – and tell yourself:

“I want that”

“I want to do that”

“I want to be that.”

Standards that call you up to be better.

To be who you could be. (If you went for it).

And before I get the emails saying “this is too much – some people don’t need to be so extreme….blah blah blah.”

You’re absolutely right – some people don’t and most people won’t.

That’s fine.

I know this is not for everyone (hell, it’s not for *most* people).

But, that’s okay.

I’m not looking for “most” people.

If that’s you – and you’re ready for a challenge.

I’ve got something for you on Friday.

Be ready.

Joel