Starting Is Hard. Starting Again Is Harder.

There’s this myth we all seem to believe:
That once we’ve started something, it’ll just flow.

That discipline will carry us. That the fire won’t go out. That we’ll build momentum and ride it like a wave.

But real life doesn’t work like that.

You start.

You stop.

You fall off.

You come back.

And sometimes… the hardest part isn’t beginning.

It’s beginning again.

After almost four years away from Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, I had my first class back.

One session. Just one.

Then I got sick—really sick.

Fever. No energy. Days lost to rest and recovery.

And with it, the momentum I thought I had finally regained seemed to disappear.

That’s the part people don’t talk about.

Not the return, but the relapse.

Not the triumphant comeback, but the slow fade right after.

I could feel the old voices coming back:

“You always quit.”
“You’ll never stick to this.”
“What’s the point?”

And maybe a younger version of me would have listened.

But something’s different now.

This time, I’m learning to treat setbacks as part of the practice—not the end of it.

This time, I’m not measuring progress in consistency alone.

I’m measuring it in resilience.

Because resilience isn’t never falling.

It’s learning how to rise with patience.

Every time I start over, I’m reminded of this:

• Starting over isn’t weakness. It’s courage.
  
  

• Momentum is earned—but also rebuilt. Gently.
  
  

• Your mat will wait for you. So will your breath.
  
  

I’m still not 100%.

But I’m writing. I’m breathing. I’m staying close to the path—even if I’m not sprinting down it.

That counts.

During my days stuck in bed, I read BJJ Globetrotter by Christian Graugart.

It lit a spark I didn’t know I needed.

His story wasn’t about domination or competition—it was about community, meaning, and building something on your own terms.

It reminded me why I started this blog in the first place.

Not to show off.

But to share honestly.

To make space for people like me—like you—who are trying to build something steady in a life that moves constantly.

You don’t need to be on fire every day.

You don’t need to “go hard” to be worthy of the practice.

You just need to stay connected.

So here’s your reminder:

• Missed sessions don’t erase your growth.
  
  Coming back slow is still coming back.
  
  It’s okay to be in-between.
  

The space between effort is still sacred.

I created this space so I could speak from wherever I am—injured, inspired, burned out, or back on the mat.

Not as an expert.

But as someone walking the same winding path.

Some days I’m a warrior.

Other days I’m in the garden.

But I’m still here.

And so are you.

Flow. Fight. Fatherhood.
Thanks for being here.