You Have to Do the Work

By Brian Keith Shrewsbury
(Coach, Writer, Entrepreneur)

If You Want the Glory, You Have to Do the Work

Too often, people expect others to fix things for them or to hold their hands through every challenge. But true accomplishment comes only to those who are willing to put in the effort themselves. If you seek medals and recognition, you must be ready to earn them.

For over forty years, my mission has been to propel kids and young adults beyond what they believed possible. I've seen students reach heights beyond what I could have imagined for them—and I've seen others fall short. One thing I’ve learned is that as soon as I stop pushing, many stop achieving. This reveals a hard truth: genuine growth depends on consistent effort and self-motivation. Sadly, experience is not always valued; some people feel threatened by it, rather than seeing it as a resource for growth.

There Is a Paradox at the Heart of Success and Failure

Perfectionists, those most afraid to fail, are often the ones who struggle the most. Meanwhile, the people unafraid of failure—the ones repeatedly told they cannot succeed—sometimes internalize those limitations, when, in fact, their willingness to try could set them free. I’m reminded of a famous experiment: a rat left alone in water drowns quickly, but a rat that is constantly pushed under fights harder and survives much longer.

Challenge and adversity can provoke reserves of determination we never knew we had.

Entitlement and Complacency Are the Chief Enemies of Progress

When we expect others to pave the way for us, or believe that we are owed success regardless of our efforts, we become lazy, arrogant, and entitled. The achievements we value most are those that required sacrifice and hard work. The teachers and coaches who challenge us the most—the ones we sometimes resist or dislike—are often the ones who teach us our most important lessons. Not through abuse, but by insisting we confront our limits, fall, fail, and rise again.

Growth comes from being challenged.

Real Love and Mentorship Are Not Always Gentle

To truly care for someone is to help them face discomfort, hardship, and even pain. It’s through falling, hurting, and enduring struggle that we truly learn and build character. Sometimes, experiencing the depths of difficulty is necessary before we find the strength and will to rise.

A Memorable Scene from Lean on Me Illustrates This Point

Principal Joe Clark, played by Morgan Freeman, confronts a student battling addiction, taking him to the school rooftop and telling him to jump if that's what he truly wanted—to force him to confront the reality of his choices. This moment of tough love awakened something in the student: the realization that he had the power to change his path.

Of course, I would never ask a student to jump off a roof—such an act is extreme and belongs only in Hollywood. My approach is to challenge students intellectually and emotionally, encouraging them to face difficult truths and learn from adversity while always safeguarding their well-being. The goal is to inspire growth, not to put anyone in harm’s way.

In Life, Challenge Is a Gift, Not a Curse

When we take risks and are willing to fail, we learn, adapt, and grow stronger. God challenges us so we can become resilient, humble, wise, and compassionate. He lets us feel pain and consequences—not to hurt us, but to help us grow. The people and experiences that test us the most deeply often care the most about our development, even if it doesn’t feel that way in the moment.

Ultimately, achievement, character, and wisdom are forged in the fire of challenge and struggle. If you desire greatness, embrace adversity, confront your failures, and commit to working for your rewards.

Meaning over medals

7/20/2025

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Meaning Over Medals: What Coaching Gymnastics Taught Me About Purpose

By Coach Brian Keith Shrewsbury

Leading psychiatrist and public intellectual Dr. Jordan Peterson draws a sharp distinction between happiness and meaning in life. He maintains that happiness is a fleeting, unreliable pursuit, whereas a meaningful life—built on responsibility and the pursuit of higher aims—is the genuine antidote to suffering. “True fulfillment,” Peterson asserts, “comes from embracing life’s burdens and standing up to chaos.”^[1]

As both a father and a coach, I witness firsthand the struggles young people face in their search for belonging and significance. Over the years, coaching gymnastics to children and raising seven of my own, I've repeatedly seen young athletes wrestle with their sense of purpose—even within the structured arena of competition. Many arrive with dreams of stardom, driven by their own ambitions or by parents eager for tangible success, such as medals or college scholarships. Yet, amid all that goal-setting, the deeper question often gets lost: What is this child truly seeking? What do they genuinely want to achieve?

Athletes need more than a rigorous training plan or an all-or-nothing mentality. They need to feel welcomed by their teammates and supported by their community. In gymnastics, as in life, group dynamics profoundly influence individual progress. Forcing every athlete along a single predetermined path—prioritizing victory over individuality—almost always yields frustration or defeat. Each athlete must be given the space to discover their style of work, to set goals that challenge their own potential and not merely to outpace their peers. The real marker of growth isn't becoming the “best in the world,” but striving every day to be the best in their world.

I hear it often from my athletes—primarily boys—that their bodies ache, they’re tired, and that sometimes they want to quit. Occasionally, I’ll joke, “You can stop when the blood reaches your elbow,” but I mean this as a nudge toward resilience, not recklessness. The true lesson is about enduring hardship and emerging stronger, not about enduring unreasonable pain or meeting others’ unrealistic expectations. Growth comes from working through discomfort under the guidance of a coach who listens, sets achievable goals, and recognizes when it’s time to rest and regroup. Adversity makes us stronger, but only when navigated wisely and compassionately.

Gymnastics, perhaps more than many sports, demands an intimate knowledge of one's limits—physical, emotional, and mental. As a coach, it is my responsibility to watch for cues: when an athlete’s focus wanes, when emotions are in turmoil, or when fatigue threatens safety. Open and honest communication becomes critical, ensuring each athlete is fully present and mentally prepared for the challenges they face.

There are also days of joy in the gym—moments when new skills are mastered and friendships flourish. On those days, the fun and camaraderie remind us why we joined in the first place. But, equally, the struggles and setbacks are invaluable. They’re not obstacles to be avoided, but opportunities to build character, resilience, and, yes, meaning.

The lessons learned in sports reach far beyond the gym walls: determination, perseverance, purposeful struggle, and the support of a caring community all translate to real-world success. I encourage my gymnasts to set personal goals, not simply to fulfill my expectations or the team’s objectives, but to discover what truly motivates them. When athletes support one another—celebrating victories, offering encouragement through defeats, and fostering genuine camaraderie—they grow not just as competitors but as human beings.

Pain and failure are real in gymnastics. Hands will rip, bodies will ache, and hearts will sometimes break. Defeat is part of the process, and rest is essential. Yet, after recovery, growth is found in returning to the mat—renewed, recalibrated, ready to try again. In this sense, failing is not just acceptable; it's necessary. Most skills take thousands of repetitions to master. Few will stand on the Olympic podium, but countless champions are forged daily in gyms everywhere—champions over fear, setbacks, and self-doubt.

Ultimately, medals will tarnish and trophies will gather dust, but character—honed through adversity, determination, and mutual support—endures. That is the real prize: strong young people prepared not just for competition, but for life. The achievements and heartbreaks experienced inside the gym travel far beyond those four walls, shaping who these young athletes will become as adults, friends, leaders, and citizens.

Winning matters, of course, but how we win matters even more. There is no single path to victory, nor is there one definition of success. The moments of triumph are precious, yet the daily act of overcoming struggle—of becoming just a little stronger each day—matters just as much, perhaps more.

At MGA Gymnastics, for over sixty years, we have believed that the greatest champions are those who master not just the sport, but themselves. Every athlete deserves the opportunity to discover their purpose, to struggle with support, and to experience the meaning that comes from relentless personal growth. That, above all, is the legacy I hope to pass on.

Reference:
This article is inspired in part by Dr. Jordan B. Peterson, renowned psychologist and author, who distinguishes the pursuit of meaningful responsibility from the fleeting pursuit of happiness.
“Happiness is like cotton candy. It’s fleeting, unpredictable, and just not going to do the job when life turns tragic.” — Dr. Jordan Peterson^[1]

About the Author:
Coach [Your Name] is a dedicated gymnastics coach, father of seven, and lifelong advocate for youth development. With decades of experience nurturing both athletic skill and strong character, he believes in guiding young people to find not just medals—but meaning—through sport, struggle, and community. At MGA Gymnastics, his passion is helping each athlete discover their unique strengths, develop resilience, and pursue excellence on and off the mat.

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My Gym Adventure