Origins & Mediocrity

Some good that came from COVID

I want to share the origin story of Jack and Samson—where the idea came from and why it matters. During COVID, I was working overseas and had to quarantine in a hotel in Abu Dhabi for two weeks at a time, more than a dozen times over two years. Those long stretches in isolation gave me ample time to think, reflect, and grow—yes, even physically, as it was easy to gain weight when locked in a hotel room.

During one quarantine, while watching the delayed 2020 Olympics in 2021, I had a wake-up call about how far I’d let my health slip. As a former wrestler, I decided to latch onto a weight class as a goal: 79kg (~175 lbs). At the time, I weighed between 201-206 lbs—a long way to go. I set a timeline to be “on the road to 79” by Christmas, determined to make weight. But I didn’t. I barely got close, maybe dipping to the low 190s at best. I’d make a little progress, feel content with “doing good,” and then backslide. It’s a pattern that’s followed me for years.

The Trap and the Road

I had made peace with mediocrity. As long as I was above average, I told myself that was enough. But that mindset is a trap. When you settle for “good enough,” you lose the drive to achieve anything that truly matters. You get stuck in mediocre.

So, what does this have to do with Jack and Samson? Not long after my failed “road to 79,” I stumbled across a video about obsession. The speaker asked, “What obsesses you?” If the answer is “I don’t know,” they urged deep reflection to find that thing you’re truly passionate about. At first, I thought I knew my answer. For most of my adult life, I’d been all about racing, off-roading, and everything automotive. But the more I reflected, the less certain I became.

Early in the pandemic, before the quarantines began, I was sent home from work for six months. Initially, I isolated myself to protect my newborn, spending nine days tearing down an IH Scout I planned to restore.

But over the next six months, I never returned to the shop. Instead, my family hiked, grew a garden, and went camping. The Scout sat untouched. Maybe cars weren’t what truly mattered to me.

Mediocrity Stikes again

By 2022, after hearing that speaker’s question, I did some serious soul-searching. I realized that being a good dad, husband, and leader was what drove me. Beyond that, I discovered a passion for leadership—not just holding a leadership role, but being a truly effective leader. Yet, I struggled with the “military-esque” messaging that dominates the leadership space. The “navy seal” or “alpha male” bravado felt inauthentic to me, like I was an imposter. I searched for voices that resonated outside that mold, but found little that felt genuine. So, I thought, why not create my own approach to coaching and leading? That’s when Jack and Samson was born.

The idea took root in my mind, but—true to form—I did nothing with it. Mediocrity struck again.

For the next couple of years, I talked and thought about Jack and Samson a lot, but took no action. Fast forward to 2024, with the Olympics back on TV, I faced the harsh reality that I was in no better shape than before, and my idea remained just that—an idea. Something had to change.

Relentless

In 2025, inspired by my wife’s practice of choosing a “word of the year,” I picked mine: Relentless. I vowed to be relentless in pursuing my goals, dreams, and calling. I don’t have it all figured out, and I’m still not at 79kg, but I’m back on the road and moving forward. We can’t accept average and then be surprised when our lives aren’t what we want. The fear of failure pales in comparison to the pain of regret.

Jack and Samson is more than a coffee table discussion—it’s an idea that demands action. If this resonates with you, let’s let go of excuses and build something together. Let’s make progress.