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My kids got me a picker-upper. You know, one of those long claw things that helps you snag socks or twigs without bending over. It’s a lot of power for one man and is a fine gift for someone whose best days are supposedly behind them.
When I pulled it out of the gift bag, they burst out laughing. It was a coordinated strike, one they’d been planning for weeks. My youngest even threw in something about it coming in handy whenever I start groaning every time I stand up. Or wake up. Something like that.
Message received.
It’s easy to look at your old man, the guy who used to crush you in backyard basketball and start thinking of him as a step slower, a little softer, a guy who’s maybe a couple of years away from a fanny pack and orthopedic sneakers.
Fact is though, I’m not just keeping up. I’m still pushing them. Still in the game. Because I refuse to let the old man in.
Somewhere along the way, my kids picked up a limiting belief: that getting older means automatically slowing down. That Dad is supposed to be the guy who groans when he stands up, avoids the pickup game, and talks about the good old days like his best work is in the rearview.
And if I’m honest, I’ve had to fight that same thought myself. It can creep in. However, if I let that belief take root, it doesn’t just slow me down. It sets the tone for my family.
Our kids absorb our outlook on life. They pick up on the way we talk about our bodies, our work, our time, and our goals. If we start acting like the best years are behind us, they’ll start believing that too.
A few years ago, I ran into an old buddy at the gym. He was a beast, the kind of dude who could rep a small car and still win a 10K. But that day, he was just going through the motions. The kind of thing you do when you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re still technically exercising.
I walked over and asked if he wanted to jump in on a set. He shook his head and said something about being too old.
I get it. Bodies change. Joints get cranky. But he was still young. He had just decided, without much evidence, that his best days were behind him.
Those limiting beliefs are slow-acting poison. They sound like:
* “I’m too old to get back in shape.”
* “I’m too busy to try something new.”
* “It’s too late to change careers.”
* “I don’t have time for myself anymore.”
And just like that, we’re walking around with a picker-upper mentality, reaching for shortcuts, leaning on excuses, and setting a low bar for our kids to follow.
I’ve seen it firsthand. Since I started this newsletter, since I doubled down on setting the bar high and living with intention, I’ve noticed my kids stepping up, too.
My 18-year-old? He’s out there making moves, saving up for a Vespa, showing me that he’s willing to work for what he wants. My 16-year-old? She’s choosing intention over distraction, finding small ways to create and focus. And just a few days ago, my youngest brought me a piece of his own writing from school, unprompted, something he took pride in.
Slight deviation on our flight plan… I promised him I’d share his work so we would be a published author. Here are the first two lines of his fictional story:
“I am bigger, stronger, and more powerful than anyone can imagine. I lurk in the darkness and it’s time to tell the world who I am.”
Note: Yeah, I’m that author’s biggest fan.
My kid’s approach of moving without hesitation, making things happen, and creating instead of just consuming is a direct reflection of what they’ve seen me finally doing. They’ve watched me push this newsletter out into the world, take imperfect action, and commit to something bigger.
Dads, it’s a reminder that the stakes are high. That our kids don’t just hear our words. They see our actions.
So if you ever find yourself tempted to slow down, to back off, to settle for comfort, remember that your kids are taking their cues from you.
Are they going to let the old man in? Or are they going to raise the bar?
Cheers,
Will
Not yet subscribed? That’s like skipping leg day, again.
By Short episodes. Strong punches. Built for dads who want to move, not just think.My kids got me a picker-upper. You know, one of those long claw things that helps you snag socks or twigs without bending over. It’s a lot of power for one man and is a fine gift for someone whose best days are supposedly behind them.
When I pulled it out of the gift bag, they burst out laughing. It was a coordinated strike, one they’d been planning for weeks. My youngest even threw in something about it coming in handy whenever I start groaning every time I stand up. Or wake up. Something like that.
Message received.
It’s easy to look at your old man, the guy who used to crush you in backyard basketball and start thinking of him as a step slower, a little softer, a guy who’s maybe a couple of years away from a fanny pack and orthopedic sneakers.
Fact is though, I’m not just keeping up. I’m still pushing them. Still in the game. Because I refuse to let the old man in.
Somewhere along the way, my kids picked up a limiting belief: that getting older means automatically slowing down. That Dad is supposed to be the guy who groans when he stands up, avoids the pickup game, and talks about the good old days like his best work is in the rearview.
And if I’m honest, I’ve had to fight that same thought myself. It can creep in. However, if I let that belief take root, it doesn’t just slow me down. It sets the tone for my family.
Our kids absorb our outlook on life. They pick up on the way we talk about our bodies, our work, our time, and our goals. If we start acting like the best years are behind us, they’ll start believing that too.
A few years ago, I ran into an old buddy at the gym. He was a beast, the kind of dude who could rep a small car and still win a 10K. But that day, he was just going through the motions. The kind of thing you do when you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re still technically exercising.
I walked over and asked if he wanted to jump in on a set. He shook his head and said something about being too old.
I get it. Bodies change. Joints get cranky. But he was still young. He had just decided, without much evidence, that his best days were behind him.
Those limiting beliefs are slow-acting poison. They sound like:
* “I’m too old to get back in shape.”
* “I’m too busy to try something new.”
* “It’s too late to change careers.”
* “I don’t have time for myself anymore.”
And just like that, we’re walking around with a picker-upper mentality, reaching for shortcuts, leaning on excuses, and setting a low bar for our kids to follow.
I’ve seen it firsthand. Since I started this newsletter, since I doubled down on setting the bar high and living with intention, I’ve noticed my kids stepping up, too.
My 18-year-old? He’s out there making moves, saving up for a Vespa, showing me that he’s willing to work for what he wants. My 16-year-old? She’s choosing intention over distraction, finding small ways to create and focus. And just a few days ago, my youngest brought me a piece of his own writing from school, unprompted, something he took pride in.
Slight deviation on our flight plan… I promised him I’d share his work so we would be a published author. Here are the first two lines of his fictional story:
“I am bigger, stronger, and more powerful than anyone can imagine. I lurk in the darkness and it’s time to tell the world who I am.”
Note: Yeah, I’m that author’s biggest fan.
My kid’s approach of moving without hesitation, making things happen, and creating instead of just consuming is a direct reflection of what they’ve seen me finally doing. They’ve watched me push this newsletter out into the world, take imperfect action, and commit to something bigger.
Dads, it’s a reminder that the stakes are high. That our kids don’t just hear our words. They see our actions.
So if you ever find yourself tempted to slow down, to back off, to settle for comfort, remember that your kids are taking their cues from you.
Are they going to let the old man in? Or are they going to raise the bar?
Cheers,
Will
Not yet subscribed? That’s like skipping leg day, again.