I co-won The Death Race. Not because I was the fittest. Because I refused to quit when everything in my body said stop. That's the only skill that matters.
The Death Race is held in Pittsfield, Vermont — a grueling multi-day endurance event designed with one primary objective: to make you quit. The course changes every year. You don't know the tasks in advance. You don't know how long it will last. You might be asked to chop wood for six hours, carry boulders up a mountain in the middle of the night, memorize the periodic table, or hold a barbell overhead until you can't. The race directors are actively trying to break you — physically, mentally, and psychologically.
Most competitors do not finish. The year I co-won, the completion rate was in the single digits.
I did not win because I was the fastest or the strongest. I won because I had one thing that the people who quit didn't have in that moment: a framework for what to do when everything in your body and mind is screaming at you to stop.
What 70 Hours in the Mountains Teaches You
By hour 30, everyone hurts. By hour 50, everyone is questioning whether they should be there. The separation doesn't happen at the physical limit — it happens at the psychological one. The moment when your brain, trying to protect you from further suffering, manufactures a reason to stop that sounds completely rational.
"I've proven my point." "My knee is actually injured." "I'll come back next year." "This isn't worth it."
These thoughts are lies. Not all of them — sometimes you genuinely are injured and stopping is the right call. But the vast majority of the time, the story your brain tells you when you're at your limit is not an accurate assessment of your capability. It's a negotiation. And the people who finish — who win — are the ones who have learned not to negotiate with that voice.
The most important skill in endurance sport — and in leadership — is the ability to recognize the difference between "I can't" and "I don't want to." They feel identical. They are not.
The Framework That Got Me Through
I didn't survive the Death Race by being tough. I survived it by having a system. Here's what that system looked like in practice:
One task at a time. When you're looking at 40 more hours of suffering, the math destroys you. When you're looking at the next 100 meters, the next hour, the next task — it's manageable. I never let myself think about the finish line. I thought about the next checkpoint.
Never make decisions at your lowest point. The decision to quit always comes when you're at your worst — cold, exhausted, in pain, at 3 AM. I made a rule: I would never decide to stop unless I felt okay about the decision at my best. Spoiler: that moment never came during the race. It came when I crossed the finish line.
Suffering is temporary. Quitting is permanent. This sounds like a bumper sticker, but it's neurologically true. Pain fades. The memory of what you did — or didn't do — stays. I have never once regretted finishing something hard. I have regretted stopping.
The Business Translation
Every significant achievement in my professional life has come from applying this same framework. The year I helped build ZRG Partners from scratch — when the business was fragile and the outcome was uncertain — felt like being at hour 40 of the Death Race. The voices were loud. The rational case for stopping was compelling.
The framework got me through then too. One client at a time. Never decide to quit on a bad day. Remember that the discomfort is temporary and the result is permanent.
I've placed leaders who have lived versions of this — executives who rebuilt companies after they failed, who navigated cancer diagnoses while managing boards, who led through 2008 and 2020 and came out the other side harder and more capable than when they went in.
The common thread isn't talent. It isn't luck. It's the ability to keep moving when moving is the last thing they wanted to do.
Your Death Race
You don't have to go to Vermont. Your Death Race might be a business you're trying to save, a health challenge you're navigating, a career transition that feels impossible, or a comeback you've been putting off because the gap between where you are and where you want to be feels too large.
The framework is the same. One task at a time. Don't decide to quit at your lowest point. Remember that the suffering is temporary and the result is permanent.
You've already survived everything that has tried to stop you. That's your track record. Trust it.