I Don’t Know When I’m Gonna Quit, But It’s Not Today

How is it already July? Typing that feels like a betrayal of time itself. In six days, I’ll tackle the biggest race of my life: the Musselman Ironman 70.3 in Geneva, NY. That’s 1.2 miles of swimming, 56 miles of biking, and 13.1 miles of running (because apparently, I think this will make me cool). This training cycle is the hardest thing I’ve ever done—and I’ve battled Sean in Super Smash Brothers (seriously, he plays as King Dedede and is good. Who the f*** plays as that character and wins?!).

It’s been incredibly rewarding, but equally tough. Learning to swim 1.2 miles when I could hardly freestyle and biking 56 miles at race pace when I’d never ridden more than 6 miles was daunting at the start. Every workout felt like staring down a monster, and some days, I left with less confidence than I started with. So, I did what I always do to get my head right: I turned to Hollywood for a pep talk.

If you know me (or have endured my rants), you know I’m a total movie and TV nerd. As a kid, I’d watch superhero flicks or spy thrillers and strut out of the theater convinced I’d inherited the protagonist’s powers—until the next movie rebooted my identity. I can’t watch a single movie or show without diving into its IMDb page and investigating every actor like it’s my job. Point is, stories shape me, and a line from This Is Us got me through my toughest workouts.

Enter Jack Pearson, the dad in This Is Us (no spoilers, I promise). Jack battles alcoholism, and in a heart-wrenching scene from Season 1, his son Kevin asks, “Dad, are you gonna start drinking again?” Jack responds, “I don’t know when I’m gonna drink again, Kevin. But it’s not gonna be today.” That line’s genius lies in its raw honesty. Jack admits he might slip someday, but not today.

It echoes a recovery philosophy often heard in Alcoholics Anonymous: “I don’t know if I’ll stay sober forever, but I can stay sober today.” It’s a paradox—you acknowledge failure’s possible, but by committing to “not today,” you stack the deck against it. Say that every day, and quitting never gets a foothold.

Now, let’s apply this to training. Who hasn’t bailed on a workout that felt too hard? I’ve been there. Who hasn’t pictured dropping out of a race when training goes off the rails? Guilty here too. As much as I hate those thoughts, they’d sneak into my mind on my worst days. I despised them, but intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

So, I made a rule: I can admit it’s okay to quit, but I can’t quit today. If tomorrow brings another rough workout and I want to give up, I say the same thing: you can quit, just not today.

This rule became my secret weapon. It gave me relief, knowing quitting wasn’t shameful—I just couldn’t do it on the days I wanted to most. You can never live in tomorrow, only today. So, quitting was never an option, only the idea that I could if I caught tomorrow.

So, when you’re dreading that Orange Theory class, struggling through a run, or facing any goal that feels impossible, try this: tell yourself it’s okay to quit… just not today. String enough “not todays” together, and you’ll be amazed at what you can do.

Here’s to crushing it this week—find your 1%!

Michael
GTY Performance