When Perseverance Stops Working

August 31, 2026

When Perseverance Stops Working

There are moments in life when the challenge isn’t overcoming an obstacle. The challenge is accepting that the path you planned is no longer available.

For many of us, the hardest transitions are not the ones we choose. They’re the ones that force us to let go of a future we thought was certain.


Letting Go of the Future You Planned

For most of my life, perseverance was the answer.

Work harder. Push through. Keep going.

Whether it was school, athletics, business, or life, determination had served me well.

After racing numerous marathons, triathlons, and Half Ironman events, I had my sights set on an even bigger goal: the Ironman.

In 2012, I competed in the US Open Triathlon.

I was in a tremendous amount of pain. At the time, I didn’t know I was racing on a fractured femur. I just knew something was wrong.

But I was determined to finish.

Looking back, it probably wasn’t my smartest decision.

The tests that followed revealed avascular necrosis, a condition that was destroying both of my hip joints and would eventually lead to three hip replacements.

What happened next surprised me.

The physical challenges were difficult. The surgeries were difficult. The recovery was difficult.

But none of those were the hardest part.

The hardest part was realizing that perseverance alone wasn’t going to solve this problem.

For years, my instinct had been to push harder. Train harder. Work harder. Find another way forward.

That’s what had always worked before.

When I struggled in training, I trained harder. When I hit a difficult stretch in a race, I pushed harder. When I encountered obstacles in life, I worked harder.

Perseverance had become more than a habit.

It had become part of my identity.

Then I encountered a problem that couldn’t be solved through determination.

There was no amount of effort that was going to restore the future I had planned.

The races, the goals, the Ironman I had spent years working toward, and the version of myself I expected to become were suddenly slipping away.

For a long time, I resisted that reality.

I kept looking backward. I kept focusing on what I had lost. I kept wishing things would somehow return to the path I had envisioned.

Eventually, I learned something that changed the way I think about leadership and life.

Acceptance is not surrender.

Acceptance is recognizing reality.

And until we recognize reality, we cannot build effectively from it.

That lesson followed me long after my athletic career changed.

Years later, during the COVID lockdowns in Panama, I found myself making a similar mistake.

Like many people, I assumed much of what we were experiencing was temporary. The disruption would pass. The workforce would return to normal. Things would go back to the way they were.

Looking back, I wasn’t really waiting for certainty.

I was waiting for the future I preferred.

There’s a difference.

And leaders do this all the time.

We become attached to strategies that once worked, markets that once existed, customers who once behaved a certain way, and business models that once produced results.

When circumstances change, our first instinct is often to push harder.

We double down.

We work longer.

We try to force yesterday’s solution to solve tomorrow’s problem.

Sometimes perseverance is exactly what’s needed.

Sometimes it isn’t.

One of the most important leadership skills is knowing the difference.

Because there comes a point when pushing harder is no longer resilience.

It’s resistance.

The strongest leaders aren’t always the most persistent.

They’re the ones who can recognize when persistence should give way to adaptation.

They understand that success is not about clinging to a plan.

It’s about remaining committed to a purpose while being flexible about the path.

The future rarely unfolds exactly as we expect.

Careers change. Industries change. Technology changes. People change.

Sometimes the future we planned disappears altogether.

When that happens, we have a choice.

Spend our energy trying to restore what was.

Or invest our energy creating what comes next.

Looking back, the lesson wasn’t about triathlon.

It wasn’t about surgery.

It wasn’t even about loss.

It was about understanding that some futures don’t come back.

And that doesn’t have to be a tragedy.

Sometimes the most meaningful chapters of our lives begin only after we’ve let go of the ones we thought we were supposed to have.

The same is true in leadership.

Leadership is not restoring yesterday.

It’s creating tomorrow.


I’ve come to believe that some of the most important chapters of our lives begin the moment we stop asking how to get back to the old plan.

The future I envisioned as an athlete never happened.

Yet many of the experiences, relationships, opportunities, and adventures that have shaped my life would never have happened if it had.

Sometimes the future we lose is simply making room for one we cannot yet see.