Does your job sometimes feel meaningless? Have you ever wondered why you’re doing it? I’ve faced the same challenge, both as an Olympic rower and as a management consultant and keynote presenter. In each case, early success led to a crisis of purpose fuelled by the realization that bigger success would take exponentially more work and commitment.
As I anticipated the mountains of effort required and the uncertain outcomes, my drive evaporated. What brought back my mojo? Reframing my focus on the perfection of a practice. In essence, I learned to fall in love with practice. I relearned to love the small gains—the process of making tweaks, inching forward, and seeing marginal results. I became fascinated by the mystery of the mind, and how it could react differently to the same experience depending on the day. And eventually, this practice-based focus reignited my passion for work.
For an Olympic rower practice entails a lot of repetition. You put your blade in the water as gently and quickly as possible. You lock onto a mound of water at the water’s surface and you accelerate the blade as smoothly, quickly, and powerfully as possible. You cleanly and firmly extract the blade from the water to glide up the slide, efficiently maintaining the momentum on the hull of the boat without check. And then you repeat this sequence over and over and over. And over.
For my first 13 years in the sport, I constantly thought about quitting. It was too hard. It was too boring. Was this really what I wanted to do? Wasn’t there something more important I should be doing with my life? I felt I was so much more than an athlete. I was a musician, a mathematician, a teacher, a builder, a mechanic, a carpenter, an outdoorsman, a geologist, a reader, an author…. I had a hard time accepting that rowing was my life’s purpose.
We often hear that purpose comes from following our passion, but how can we follow our passion if we’re not even sure what it is? Many think passion is akin to euphoria, but its closest relative is actually patience. It’s not about feeling good—it’s about persistence. Your life’s work is to discover your work and then give your whole heart to it.
When you submit to the incredible pressure of an Olympic training regime, the biggest struggle is to understand yourself. You must embrace honest thought and act with integrity to find success. You can’t lie to yourself, believing you’re stronger or weaker than you are. You need to understand what motivates you, what chance you have of winning, and what you’re willing to give—or give up—to accomplish your goals.
There’s a lot of sacrifice. Most of your work is done outside the public arena of competition. You spend little time “playing” your sport or experiencing the thrill, joy, and excitement people see when the cameras are rolling. The majority of your time is spent repeating monotonous tasks and skills until peak performance is achieved. Feeling sick? You show up. Tired? You show up. Is it a holiday? What’s a holiday? Grit and professionalism are what powers you into the opening ceremonies and onto the podium.
Like Olympic athletes, successful professionals are internally motivated. They choose to exist in an environment that rewards effort and tracks performance. They’re self-reflective. They’re committed. They show up.
That doesn’t mean they don’t struggle. All of us suffer from grass-is-greener syndrome to some extent. When I was training for the Olympics, I constantly dreamed about jobs that seemed more purposeful, more lucrative, more flexible. I still confront these gremlins in my present line of work. After all, what motivates a motivational speaker? (I wish there was a punchline here, but there isn’t.) All I can do is tell myself the following: You chose this career. You could have picked something else, but you didn’t. And you worked very hard to get here. Your skills, talents, interests, and values guided you to this place, and now your job is to make your job a little better. Building your professional skill set is now your purpose.
We should never think of a skill set as merely a means to an end. Building a skill set is also an end goal unto itself. Skill-building is incredibly motivating and contributes to longevity and contentment. We can all find deep joy in the pursuit of mastery, however incremental the steps. I can say with confidence that making small, consistent improvements has helped me stay engaged in and passionate about my work.
The idea is simple: Focus begets skill; skill begets passion. The more focus we place on a skill, the more skilled we become. And the more skilled we become, the more passionate and successful we become. In effect, we create a positive feedback loop fed by a drive for improvement. If you dedicate yourself to doing your best work, you will find invaluable fulfilment, and that fulfilment will motivate you to keep doing your best work.
If I’m not feeling motivated but I’m still committed to my goals, simply showing up will often show me the way forward. I know that energy is fluid and always returns. I let myself find motivation in other activities—I take on a new volunteering role, I work at becoming a better cyclist, I master a videogame. Eventually, if I keep showing up to work on my primary goal, one of two things will happen: progress will be made, or I’ll realize that my primary goal isn’t productive and I’ll stop. But until I make a conscious decision to stop, I’m going to keep showing up. And when I show up, I’ll do the best I can in that moment.
In Olympic training, you learn to be completely in the now. This is one of my favourite aspects of rowing, and it’s what keeps me active in the sport to this day. You observe your body and the sensations it produces. You observe your blade and the path it takes in and out of the water. You observe the position of your boat in relation to the other boats. You try to catch them to beat them, and to maintain focus if they get away. You lose yourself in the work.
We all create energy in our being, and the power within you should be used to the best of your abilities at any given moment. If you’re stuck in a rut, that’s okay. It’s way worse to be in a rut about being in a rut. Be in that rut, but keep showing up. Do your best, and eventually you’ll find a way forward—or you’ll decide you no longer want to pursue that goal, and you’ll stop so you can refocus your energy.
Ultimately, professionalism is a choice, and its traits can be learned. Embrace the traits of Olympic athletes—keep practising, keep building your skills, and keep showing up. Work hard and take pride in your work. You will reap the benefits, both personally and financially.
Adam Kreek is a two-time Olympian with 60 international medals in the sport of rowing, including Olympic gold, and multiple hall of fame inductions. As the founder of KreekSpeak Business Solutions in Victoria, Adam works as a management consultant, executive coach, and presenter, drawing on his experiences as an elite athlete to share strategies for leadership and peak performance.
Originally published in the July/August 2018 edition of CPABC in Focus.