I texted this to my good friend, Greg Schneider-Bateman, yesterday as we were riffing on our daily swim endeavors. I’m reminded of that line—”Let your body do what your body can do”—every day during my Wim Hof breathing exercises. Greg messaged Monday morning saying, “Another shitty practice. I feel very confused in the water.”

Last week I shared my Dokkōdō: What I Know Now That I Wish I Knew Then. I was blown away by the responses: “Reed, I started my Dokkōdō!” I strongly encourage you to do the activity—it’s transformative. I want to expand on one life precept—and I apologize in advance for the language.

On April 24, 2025, I received this text message from my dear friend, John Stephenson: I’ve got an invitation for you. A few weeks before Miyamoto Musashi, likely the greatest swordsman of all time (62-0 in duels), died he wrote the Dokkōdō. It’s 21 points, each a sentence long about what really mattered in his life. I decided to write my own and am writing one a day for 21 days. Just because. Would you like to join?

I once had a coach say, “Reed, the Universe pays attention.” This was years ago and it’s stuck with me. The things we do—although they may feel like it—do not go unrecognized. Day after day we can show up and question our efforts. Week after week we can do the work and wonder the impact. Month after month we can engage and see no return. Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place.

He changed how I view feedback: 1) staying silent when you disagree is an act of disloyalty; 2) combining top talent with honest feedback allows organizations to bypass traditional management and achieve unprecedented success. Top performers are already sharp. Feedback only sharpens—individuals and the collective whole.

I don’t remember when he showed up to his first Foxjets swim practice. He didn’t say much in the beginning. He still doesn’t say much. But, every day he shows up, I’m on alert. He’s that stoic type of leader who always forces you to do better—be better—because that is what he does every day.

It’s 3:15pm on Monday, June 22. I just finished a client call early and I have about 75 minutes left in my work day. My entire day has felt like this: odd little blocks of time stacked around meetings that I needed to be present for. At the start of each block of time, I felt absolutely paralyzed. Despite having a ton of things on my to-do list, I just didn’t know where to begin. All day I’ve had that stuck feeling.

“…tell Him your plans.” I don’t remember much of any of my dad’s sermons; however, I do remember his last. Parkinson’s Disease brought my dad’s vocation to an early close. While my dad and mom were busy making plans for what their future would look like, God was having a good chuckle. And my dad knew it—and shared it with his congregation—during that last sermon. It’s always stuck with me. Apparently it’s an old Yiddish proverb: “Make plans; God laughs.”

This blog post feels like a 2,000 lb. rock that I’m trying to lift. Last week was easy. It reminds me of something I wrote around discipline science about a year ago. Inspiration is the thing that gets you to the mountain. It’s cheap. It’s quick. And, it’s short-lived. But, it’s essential because it gets you out the door. Inspiration helped me hit publish.

Daily. Weekly. Monthly. Yearly. It’s funny how habits work. The days add up to weeks. The weeks add up to…

There’s a group of 23 boys over at Benilde-St. Margaret’s who have blown me away over the past 3 months. On November 24, 2025 they gathered for their first workout of the 2025-2026 swim season. By my count, they have done 82 practices — swimming or lifting — since that date. In hours, that’s 145 hours. And none of this includes the intense efforts they’ve given at swim meets over the season.

My 5-year-old son got a new bike last night. Like, a big kid bike. 7 gears. Hand brakes. It even has a kickstand.

I’m not sure how this one is going to land.

On Saturday, I shared my thinking with a good friend I’m coaching with this year: “Jeez, Reed!”

He then followed up with this quote:

"The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness." 
—Vladimir Nabokov, Speak, Memory

Hey, if nothing else, it may get you thinking.

Maybe, like me, we need moments to jolt us out of our stupor.

I’ve been praying a lot lately.

I’ve also been reading a lot lately.

And, at least for me, some pretty heavy stuff — stuff that is really challenging me and growing my faith.

• A Return to Love by Marianne Williamson

• Letting Go by David R. Hawkins

• Power vs. Force by David R. Hawkins

• Falling Upward by Richard Rohr

• The Power of Positive Thinking by Norman Vincent Peale

I can’t tell if the praying led to the reading, or the reading led to the praying.

Either way, the combination of the two is really stirring something inside of me that seems to be altering my thoughts and actions.

Last Thursday, I decided to finally jump on my bike trainer.

I’ve had a growing internal pull to get back on the bike for over a month now — however, there has been no action.

Creating change and building new habits is tricky work.

Especially when we’re stuck in a system that, for all intents and purposes, is working.

For me, without question, I swim Monday through Friday, and then run on Saturday.

I’ve got a great fitness routine going — and a deep connection with the people I swim with.

On the daily, I’m honoring two values of mine: health/fitness & community/connection.

I looked at my older son this morning and asked, “Do you think I can also write a blog post today?”

This was right after my wife had asked me what I had on the docket today.

My son: “Yeah!”

Me: “Yeah, me, too!”

It’s 2:15pm as I write this line. I need to leave the McDonald’s that I’m sitting at around 2:45pm to get to a swim practice that I’m coaching.

Here’s a favorite quote of mine from Steve Hardison: “The failure to commit is the high-cost of low living.”

I better get typing.

I recently sat down with my wife to watch tick, tick…Boom!

The film chronicles the struggles of Jonathan Larson, the creator of Rent, as an aspiring composer in New York City.

There’s a scene toward the end of the movie that made me give an audible, “Huh!”

After finding a tiny bit of success with a preview of a musical that he created, Larson is seen anxiously pacing back and forth in his apartment.

The phone rings.

It’s his agent, Rosa.

As the old adage goes, the end is the beginning.

One phase’s conclusion births a new start.

I’m going to run with that as I start punching the keys around a musing on peak performance.

Like last week, I’m stuck with a blinking cursor on a blank page.

Writing goes like that for me: at times, the ideas are exploding in my brain — and then, there are periods where I feel like I’ve got nothing.

So, if the end is the beginning, here’s where we ended last week:

Once you start, don’t quit — momentum is the best mind-altering drug.

I’ve been watching the cursor blink on this screen for way too long.

It’s a new year and I’ve put pressure on myself to have something profound to say.

Oh, how pressure can stifle us — how it removes the joy, freedom, and play.

I remember a concept from a sport psychology course outlining levels of arousal and attentional fields…

Yesterday was movie day at the Steele household.

Our oldest son had a minor surgery on Tuesday, and the two of us spent the afternoon recovering while watching The Mighty Ducks movie.

He’s recovering like a champ and, per usual, a kid-friendly movie proved so insightful.