Stay Hungry, Stay Focused

I wasn’t always someone who stuck to things. In fact, I used to be the kind of person who got excited for three days, then quit on the fourth.

I started journaling once—quit after a week. Bought running shoes—wore them twice. Said I’d read one book a month—read half of one and gave up.

I wasn’t lazy, exactly. I wanted to grow. I just didn’t know how to stay hungry, or focused, long enough to see anything through.

But that changed in the most unexpected way. And this is the story of how.

The Year That Broke Me (and Then Built Me)

It started in a small, quiet apartment in a not-so-great part of town. I was 25, living alone for the first time, working a job that paid just enough to survive.

The job itself wasn’t terrible. I was an admin assistant for a local insurance office—answering phones, filing claims, printing things no one ever read. It was routine, safe, and comfortable.

And that was the problem.

After a few months, I started feeling this strange restlessness. I couldn’t name it at first. It was like I was alive, but not living. Breathing, but not becoming.

I’d go home, eat whatever was cheap, scroll through my phone until I fell asleep, and repeat. Day after day. Week after week.

I remember lying on my floor one Saturday afternoon, staring at the ceiling and thinking, Is this it? Is this what life is supposed to be?

That question haunted me. And I didn’t have an answer.

A Glimmer in the Dust

One day, while waiting for my laundry to finish at the laundromat, I noticed a woman across from me reading a book with a bright orange cover. The title was Can’t Hurt Me by David Goggins.

Curious, I asked her if it was any good.

She looked up and smiled. “It’ll make you want to run through a brick wall,” she said. “But in a good way.”

I laughed, but something about her energy stuck with me.

Later that night, I downloaded the audiobook. I listened to it every day for a week while walking to work. And let me tell you—by the end of it, I wasn’t just inspired. I was shaken awake.

Here was a man who had gone through unbelievable pain, rejection, fear—and came out stronger because he refused to quit. He stayed hungry. He stayed focused. Not just for a week. Not just when it felt good. But always.

That was the first time I understood what it meant to be truly disciplined. Not motivated—disciplined.

From Wishful Thinking to Daily Action

So, I decided to change. But not in the “New Year, new me” kind of way.

I picked one goal: to become healthier. Not skinnier. Not stronger. Just healthier—inside and out.

And I gave myself one rule: Show up every day for 30 minutes. No excuses.

It could be walking. Stretching. Cooking a real meal. Meditating. Whatever. As long as I gave myself 30 minutes of genuine care and effort, it counted.

The first week was messy. I forgot. I got bored. I wanted to quit.

But then I remembered something from the Goggins book: “You are in danger of living a life so comfortable and soft, that you will die without ever realizing your true potential.”

Oof.

So I kept going.

30 minutes a day turned into 45. I started cooking meals from scratch, walking more, sleeping better. I felt clearer. More awake.

And it wasn’t about how I looked. It was about the process. The practice. The showing up.

The Power of a Focused Mind

That one habit spilled into everything else.

I started waking up earlier—not because I had to, but because I wanted to use my mornings for me.

I started reading more books. Books that taught me things. Books that challenged me.

I started writing again—something I hadn’t done in years. Just five minutes a day at first. Then ten. Then full pages of thoughts, hopes, reflections.

My job didn’t change. My apartment didn’t magically become a Pinterest dream. But I changed.

For the first time in my life, I felt like I was actually steering the ship. Not just floating.

And all because I stayed hungry for better—not perfect, just better. And I stayed focused on the small actions, not the big results.

Lessons in the Boring Days

Let me be honest: there were days when I didn’t feel like it. Days when the world felt heavy, and I just wanted to melt into my bed.

But I had made a decision.

And discipline means doing it even when you don’t feel like it.

So I’d take a short walk anyway. Or write two honest sentences in my journal. Or do ten pushups and call it a win.

Because momentum matters more than intensity.

Somewhere along the way, I realized that greatness doesn’t happen in big leaps. It happens in the little moments—when no one’s watching, when it’s inconvenient, when it’s quiet.

That’s when it counts.

Full Circle

Fast forward a year later.

I’m still in the same job (for now), but I’m studying part-time to become a certified wellness coach. I’ve started sharing my writing online. I’ve built a morning routine I genuinely love.

No, I’m not “there” yet—wherever “there” is. But I’m becoming.

And every single day, I remind myself of the two rules that changed everything:

Stay hungry. Stay focused.

Hungry—not for more things, but for more of yourself. For your growth. For your peace. For your power.

Focused—not on the finish line, but on the next right step.

The Moral

Your life won’t change overnight. But it will change if you stop waiting for the right mood, the perfect moment, or someone else’s permission.

You just need to stay hungry enough to want more than a comfortable life—and stay focused enough to build it, one small step at a time.

Because the truth is:

You don’t need to be extraordinary to begin.

But you do need to begin to become extraordinary.