External motivation is like rocket fuel. It explodes with power, it gets you off the launchpad, it jolts you into motion. But here’s the problem: rockets burn through that fuel in seconds. If you don’t have another source to sustain the flight, you either stall out or crash back down. That was me as a player—I was blasting upward on borrowed fuel, driven by the need to prove people wrong and to be seen. And like a rocket, eventually my tank emptied.

I wanted to prove people wrong. I wanted to prove my parents right. I wanted to feel like I mattered—like I was significant, whole, loved. I thought reaching the mountaintop would be the answer. Toby Keith’s song “How Do You Like Me Now” was my theme during this time, playing in my head as I grinded, picturing the day I’d stand at the summit and finally feel seen.

And I did get there. I reached the mountaintop I had imagined. But it wasn’t what I thought. I didn’t feel whole. I didn’t feel the long-term excitement. Instead, I felt empty and numb. My first thought was, “If this doesn’t make me feel good, then what will?”

My motivation to stay at the summit was gone. My “why” had gone up in flames. The gritty, daily routine it took to stay successful slipped because I’d unknowingly been climbing the wrong mountain all along—the external mountain.

When my playing days ended and I hit an identity crisis, I fell into the same trap. I tried to “save face”—to feed my ego and feel important again—by stepping into college coaching. Another mountain. Another summit. Another chance to feel significant. But again, it was built on the same shaky foundation: status, money, attention. I was chasing society’s scoreboard all over again, running on cheap external fuel.

Then I got a wake-up call.

A family member received a life-changing diagnosis, and it forced me to stop and ask: What really matters?

Now, with my clients, and with myself, I return to one powerful question:
“Do I love the day-to-day grind, or just the idea of the destination?” 

If you don’t love the process, you’re on the wrong path. You’re just wishing time away, hoping ‘someday’ or ‘somewhere’ will make you happy. It won’t. And in the process, you’ll miss the moments that truly matter. That was me as a player—I didn’t love the process. I didn’t enjoy the film study, the practices, the meticulous effort. I liked what I thought the game could give me. And when I turned to coaching, it was the same story. I didn’t enjoy the recruiting, the endless film, or the game planning. I was chasing the outcome, not the process.

That realization led me to call an audible. I pivoted. I still coach, but now I coach in a way that fuels me. I love helping people unlock their full potential. That’s my fire. That’s what I was made for. The rest? TikToks and recruiting pitches? That wasn’t it.

Is there still some external motivation in me? Of course. I think that’s part of being human. But now, the main fuel source is internal. It’s rooted in living out my mission, not in chasing a scoreboard I can never win.

Here’s how I see it: external motivation is like kindling. It burns hot, but it burns out fast. Internal motivation is the log—it sustains the fire over the long haul. And when you stack the two together in the right order, you build a fire that keeps burning. The key is this: the primary source must be internal. It has to come from within.