The New Recruit

by Jocko Willink

  “Well … I’m thinking about it.…”

  “Thinking about it? What is there to think about?” she said.

  “Well … you know … training … and, you know … preparation … that kind of stuff.…”

  “Training and preparation? What do you think we do in here every day? Every time we train, we are preparing to compete!”

  She did have a good point there. Finally, I got up the courage to ask her if she was scared. Only I didn’t use the word scared. I used the word nervous. I think I was scared to use the word scared!

  “Do you get nervous?”

  “Of course I get a little nervous,” Nora said, “but we do jiu-jitsu all the time, so there isn’t too much to get nervous about. It’s like training, only everyone tries really hard. But other than that, it’s just jiu-jitsu. There isn’t anything to be nervous about.”

  “What about losing? Don’t you get nervous that you might lose?”

  “‘Might lose’? I’ve lost plenty of times!”

  “What about all those medals and trophies you have won?” I asked. There were pictures all over the academy of Nora with trophies and medals.

  “Sure, I won those times. But there have been plenty of times when I lost, too. I don’t have pictures of those times, but I have lost more than I have won. Especially when I first started competing.”

  “And you don’t mind losing?”

  “I don’t like it. But I don’t mind it, either. I know that if I don’t compete, I can never win. That is really losing!”

  Here was a fifth-grade girl telling me almost the exact same thing as Uncle Jake. That’s it! I was going to compete!

  “That’s what I think, too,” I told her, wanting to sound a little tougher than I was. “That is why I am going to do this tournament!”

  “Awesome. It will be fun,” she said.

  After that, I trained really hard for the rest of class. REALLY HARD.

  Every time I sparred someone, I imagined myself competing in the tournament at the end of the summer. I tried not to give up any positions, and I tried to get everyone I trained with to tap out. By the end of class, I was sweating pretty hard.

  Uncle Jake came in to pick me up from class.

  “Well?” he said.

  “Yes, Uncle Jake. I’m going to compete.” As soon as I said those words, I felt kind of different. I felt nervous, but at the same time, I felt kind of good.

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Uncle Jake told me. “You will get a lot out of it. You’ll see.”

  When we got home, Uncle Jake came out to the garage with me and helped me do some work on my old, rusty bike. Actually, the bike wasn’t that rusty anymore. The rims looked great, the handlebars were done, and the frame was about halfway cleaned up.

  “It’s starting to look pretty good, isn’t it, Marc?” Uncle Jake asked me.

  “It is. I never thought it could look like this again. And it doesn’t seem like it’s taken that much time.”

  “That’s the way it is supposed to feel. But if you think about it, you have probably worked on this bike for twenty hours.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. You have been working on it for over a month for a half hour to an hour at a time. So yes—it’s been at least twenty hours of work so far.”

  “It doesn’t feel like that much,” I told Uncle Jake.

  “That’s because you broke it down and maintained consistency.”

  “Maintained what?” I asked.

  “Consistency. You see, instead of trying to do this whole big project at one time, you just put in a little work here and there, chipping away at it each day. That way it didn’t feel like a ton of work. And yet you look up now and can see all the progress you have made.”

  “Yeah. It really hasn’t seemed like too much. Even though there were some nights when I didn’t want to do it.”

  “You didn’t want to, but you did. That makes the difference. That’s discipline. You know, that’s what I did in college this year. When I would get a big assignment, I would work on it a little bit each day. Just for an hour or so. In a week, I had done seven hours. In two weeks, I was about done and had time to review and revise my work. Some of the other students wouldn’t start their assignments until a couple of days before they were due. Then they would be scrambling to get them done and wouldn’t be able to turn in their best work. And they would have to work fifteen hours straight on one thing—which can get boring. So that is what you do whenever you can: You break down big projects into small chunks and work on them a little bit every day.”

  “It’s like cleaning my room, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. If I clean my room every day, it only takes a few minutes each time. But when I don’t clean it for a week, all of a sudden it takes an hour to clean!”

  “Exactly. Now, you’ll also have to remember that there will be times when you don’t have a choice. Sometimes you just have to focus and work on something for a long time. Like if you get a project late or something unexpected happens. One time when I was on a trip, my water heater broke, flooded my apartment, and ruined the floor. When I got home, I had to pull out the old floor and put a new one in, all before my next trip. I worked thirty-six straight hours to get that done. So even though a warrior likes to plan things out and break them down into small pieces, you don’t always get that option.”

  “But if I have the option, I should plan, break it down into pieces, and do it in small chunks, right?”

  “Exactly. Now, let’s go get some dinner,” Uncle Jake said.

  “Okay.”

  “Malt Shoppe?” he asked, knowing I would definitely want to go to my favorite restaurant.

  “YES!” I said, immediately thinking of some FOOD!

  CHAPTER 14: LAZY DAY

  I seem to learn something new all the time when Uncle Jake is here. Today I learned a very important lesson.

  It all started on Friday. I woke up early, worked out with Uncle Jake, went to camp until lunch, came home, did chores for my mom, went to the academy, trained SUPER HARD in jiu-jitsu, got home, worked on my bike, ate dinner, and then went to bed. I was EXHAUSTED, and as soon as I lay down in bed, I fell asleep immediately.

  Almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, my alarm was going off and it was time to get up and do it again. I know MOST kids relax on Saturdays, but, in case you didn’t notice, Warrior Kids don’t get much time to relax! So I got up, did burpees FOREVER with Uncle Jake, and then got to work—it was time to pull weeds and mow lawns, and I did it all weekend long.

  I also got another lovely and enjoyable new job. Last week, I asked Mr. Latham down the street if there was anything he needed from me. The thing is, Mr. Latham doesn’t have any real yard. Well, he has a yard, but in his yard, nothing grows. NOTHING. His whole yard is concrete and pavement. There is no grass and no flowers and no trees and not even any weeds to pull. Not a thing! But since I am a motivated young business owner, I figured that I would see if there was anything he did need. Last weekend he said no. I should have never gone back! But I did.

  I went by his house again on Saturday morning and asked if there was anything I could do to help him. He immediately said, “Yes, there is! Come on over here, boy.” He led me through his house and out his back door.

  His backyard was the same as the front yard—all concrete and pavement, and there was a giant concrete patio, which was dyed a reddish color. It all actually looked pretty nice except one thing: There was a big, dirty, whitish-gray stain going diagonally across the ENTIRE PATIO.

  “You see that over there, kid?” he said to me, pointing to the giant stain. “That’s bird guano.”

  I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

  “‘Guano’?” I said.

  “Yes, boy. Guano. You know what guano is?”

  “No, sir,” I told him.

  “Droppings, boy! Bird droppings!”

  Now I was really confused. What do birds drop? So I as
ked him. “What do birds drop?”

  “You aren’t as smart as you look, kid,” Mr. Latham said. “It’s poo. Bird poo. All of it. They sit up on that wire there and poo all over my patio!”

  He pointed up above the patio. There was a wire running from the alley that went above his yard and to his roof. And, sure enough, there were some birds sitting on it. And yes, while we were looking up, one of them pooed right on the patio!

  “Now, I’m getting that wire removed next week, but right now I need all this poop off my patio. And I think you are the man to do the job.”

  This DID NOT LOOK LIKE FUN. Cleaning bird poo for a living! So I quickly made some excuses. “I’m sorry, Mr. Latham, but I’m more of a yard work kind of guy.”

  “This is my yard,” he replied.

  I needed to think quickly. “I know, Mr. Latham. But the problem is that I only have tools for a regular yard. I don’t have the right kinds of tools for this type of job, but I appreciate the offer.” Perfect, I thought. That was the perfect excuse.

  At least, I thought it was until Mr. Latham said, “Don’t worry, kid. I have all the tools you need: a scrub brush, gloves, water, and a bucket. Come on. I’ll take you to them and show you the hose.”

  My excuse making was done. Oh well, I thought. Like Uncle Jake told me, I would make money doing jobs that other people don’t want to do. And NO ONE would want to do this job.

  “Yes, sir,” I said as I followed him over to his toolshed. He handed me a big bucket, a small hand brush, and a pair of rubber gloves. Then he showed me where the hose was. I filled up the bucket with water.

  “There you go, kid. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. And with that, I got down on my knees and started scrubbing. And scrubbing. And scrubbing! It took hours and hours—five hours to be precise—of me, on my hands and knees, scrubbing bird poop! By the time I was done, the patio looked perfect. I hosed the whole thing down, put the bucket, gloves, and scrub brush away, and knocked on Mr. Latham’s door. He came outside, walked across the patio, and looked at it from a bunch of different angles. Finally he announced, “This looks great, kid,” and he took out his wallet and handed me two twenty-dollar bills—forty dollars!

  That made me feel great … for about two minutes. Then I remembered that I still had work to do at other houses. So I went around to my other appointments: the Jacksons, the Kirths, and the Newsomes. I mowed and pulled weeds as quickly as I could. But I still worked until six o’clock. When I got home, I ate a quick dinner and then worked on my bike. When I was done with that, I went to bed, EXHAUSTED once again!

  The next day was a repeat—minus the bird poo. I was up early in the morning to work out, then immediately went to houses pulling weeds and mowing lawns. And it was HOT, so it was even more tiring than normal. Once again, I got home, ate a quick dinner, and went out to the garage to work on my bike.

  I couldn’t wait to get to bed, but then I suddenly remembered that there was no camp the next day. I decided I would take the day off from doing ANYTHING! That’s right! I needed a day of rest.

  When I was done working on my bike, I walked back to the house. Uncle Jake was sitting at the table, reading a book. I knew he wasn’t going to like this, but I also knew that if I didn’t say something, tomorrow would be just as much work as today.

  “Uncle Jake?” I said.

  “What’s up, Marc?” he replied as he looked up from his book.

  “I’m really tired.”

  “That’s great. It means you had a productive day filled with hard work. Good job.”

  “No, Uncle Jake. I mean I’m REALLY tired. And tomorrow I don’t have camp, and, well, I was just wondering if it would be okay if I took the day off and did NOTHING.”

  “Nothing? No workout? No work on your bike? No work. You sure about that?”

  “I am, Uncle Jake. I’m just really tired.” I was waiting for Uncle Jake to tell me that this was a bad idea, or that I needed to push through it, or that I needed to take advantage of every day I have or something like that.

  Instead he just said, “Okay.”

  And that was it. He went back to reading.

  YIPPEEE! DAY OFF!

  So I went upstairs and turned off my alarm clock and put on my pajamas and went to bed. The next morning I woke up early, but since it was my day off, I just stayed in bed for a while.

  I saw Uncle Jake when I came down for breakfast. He was already done working out and said he had to go to the library to do some research, and my mom had already left for some kind of event she had for work.

  It was perfect! As soon as Uncle Jake left, I sat down on the couch and watched some TV. Then I got on the computer and watched some videos. Then I played some games on the computer. When I was done with that, I watched some more TV.

  Uncle Jake got home in the afternoon with some books he had borrowed from the library. Then he put on some workout clothes, grabbed a backpack, and said he was going to go out for a while.

  So I watched some more TV and played some more games on the computer and then I watched some more videos! SWEET!

  Uncle Jake came home just before dinner. He was all dirty-looking and sweaty.

  We sat down to eat.

  “So how was your day off? What did you do?” Uncle Jake asked me.

  “Not much really. Just relaxed, I guess.”

  “Oh. Sounds like TV and video games.”

  “Yeah. Some,” I told Uncle Jake, knowing that he knew what that really meant—that I had watched a TON of TV and played a TON of video games.

  “What about you? What did you do?”

  “I did a bunch of research at the library. I’m learning more about the First World War. Then I wrote a dozen or so e-mails to friends of mine. Guys all over the world. Then I worked on the design of a house I’m going to build one day. When I was done with that, I went rock climbing, which was awesome. So it was a good day.”

  Rock climbing! Designing houses! Researching World War I! I felt like I missed out on a lot of good stuff. “Sheesh, Uncle Jake! I didn’t know you were doing all that good stuff today! I wish I could have done some of it with you.”

  “You could have. But it was your day off. And speaking of your day off, how does it feel?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the day off that you said you needed so bad. How was it? Did you enjoy it?”

  “Well.” I wasn’t sure what to say, but I wanted to stay positive, so I said, “Yes.” The problem was that I didn’t even believe that. It wasn’t an enjoyable day. So I changed my answer. “Kind of,” I told him. But I knew that wasn’t true, either—the day wasn’t even kind of enjoyable. So I changed my answer again. “I mean, I guess.” But now I just felt that he didn’t believe me anyway, so I told him, “Maybe not.” But there shouldn’t have even been a maybe. The day was not good, and I knew it. So finally, I told the truth, “No, Uncle Jake. No, I didn’t have a good day.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t do much. I mean, I did some stuff, but … you know, it was just kind of … just kind of…”

  “Lazy. You had a lazy day,” Uncle Jake said. He knew it!

  “Yes, Uncle Jake. It was lazy. I thought I needed it. I thought it would feel good!”

  “Of course you did. Lazy days always feel good when you start them. But the problem comes when they are done. When they are done, they never feel good. You never look back at a lazy day and say, ‘I’m glad that I didn’t do anything today! I’m glad I didn’t make any progress! I’m glad I didn’t accomplish anything!’ No. Why would you say that? It would never be true. But lazy days are tempting when you are facing the hard work, before you have started. Or when you are tired and you want that easy day. Once it’s done, the lazy day never feels good.”

  Uncle Jake was right again. Even though it seemed like I needed it and it seemed like it would feel good, the fact of the matter is that, at the end of the day, it did
n’t feel good. I accomplished nothing today. And the worst part was that I didn’t even feel refreshed! I actually felt just as tired, if not MORE TIRED, from sitting around all day than I would have felt if I’d gone after it!

  “No, Uncle Jake. It doesn’t.”

  After a quiet minute or two, Uncle Jake looked at me and said, “Well, you know what you did accomplish today?”

  “No, Uncle Jake. What?”

  “You learned. You learned that laziness is never the right path. And that is a good lesson, because you can’t get a lazy day back. They are gone forever. Don’t ever forget that, Marc.”

  “I won’t, Uncle Jake. I won’t.”

  Uncle Jake nodded. He knew I wouldn’t.

  I went upstairs and got ready for bed, excited for my opportunity to have a great day tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 15: A DIFFERENT WORLD

  I learned some things today that I’d never thought about before. And I think they will make me a better person.

  Uncle Jake told me we were going on a mission and he was going to pick me up after camp. When I got out of camp, he was standing on the street across from the rec center. He motioned me over, and I walked toward him. When I got close to him, he asked, “Without pointing, which kid is Nathan?”

  I looked back toward the rec center and saw Nathan. “There he is, over there.”

  “You have to be more specific. What color shirt? What color pants? Where is he standing?”

  “Okay. He is wearing a black T-shirt and black jeans, and he has black hair. He’s standing by the flagpole.”

  “Got him. Okay. Track him. We’re walking down the street.”

  With that, Uncle Jake and I walked down to the end of the street and took a left. Then he sat down on a bench on the sidewalk and told me to have a seat, too.