#37 My 26 Hours of Pain and Suffering (To Grow, You Must Suffer)

In our pursuit of happiness, we often strive to avoid suffering. Yet, the undeniable reality remains: True growth and learning come with pain. There’s simply no shortcut. No magic powder or special program holds the power to change this fundamental truth. If you want to grow, you must suffer.

The past week has unexpectedly led me through a 26-hour struggle filled with pain. However, it also taught me some valuable lessons.

Tuesday, 6.30 AM

Arrogance makes us do foolish things

Recently, I've rediscovered my passion for running, and after gradually building my basic stamina over the past few weeks, I felt ready to extend the distance of my morning run. Instead of an easy 35-minute jog, I ambitiously aimed for a full hour of running.

As I set off, my overly confident self engaged in an inner dialogue that soon turned into an arrogant self-assurance, reminding me of my past achievements. Not long ago, I finished half marathons in under two hours, leading me to believe that this 9km run would be a breeze.

What a fool I am.

Reality quickly kicked in, and I had to realize that the ability to maintain a strong pace for 30 minutes did not automatically translate to an effortless 60-minute run. The final 2 kilometers were one big struggle - every step ached.

My pride took a serious beating.

Considering myself to be in the best shape I've ever been, I suddenly found myself unable even to complete a 10km run in under an hour.

Hello, humility!

Wednesday, 5.50 AM

Sit in discomfort

The next morning, still surrounded by darkness, I was at the beach, waxing my surfboard. With the first light of the morning sun, I paddled out, eager to catch some waves, before heading to my Pilates class with my teacher.

However, the waves seemed to be doing their quirky dance - shifting and closing - a clear sign that today’s surfing session might not be an epic one.

With my expectations already diminished, I positioned myself to wait for the next wave set. Then a sudden sharp sting on my leg.

A jellyfish.

All too familiar with the nasty burning, I could only wish that this was just an unlucky incident with a lone wanderer from the deep. However, my hope vanished as another sting followed, and then another, and another.

Grateful for having a proper wetsuit that covers my arms and chest, I let my legs be stung by jellyfish. That’s the price you have to pay if you want to play in nature.

So, now the questions arose:

How many jellyfish stings are worth the reward of a wave?

Well, turns out:

Two on my left leg and four on my right (for one lousy wave that closed out).

Wednesday, 7.30 AM

Suffer in Silence

So, after shitty surf and several encounters with jellyfish, I drove back home feeling disheartened. And… got caught in the rain, nearly causing me to be late for my Pilates class.

In a slightly scattered and rushed state, I joined the class, happy to start on the High Chair. Yet, just minutes in, the fatigue from yesterday’s run made my legs scream. And making us do Going Up Front on only one spring drained the last bit of energy from my weary legs.

Refusing to disrupt the concentration of my colleagues with whom I share these sessions, I chose to suffer in silence.

For a relentless 25 minutes on the High Chair, I embraced every exercise that involved my arms, hoping it would ease the cramps in my thighs.

Following that, I suffered in silence for an additional 35 minutes on the Cadillac, battling hamstring cramps during the Shoulder Roll Down exercise.

It was awful.

Indeed, I could have stopped at any point. I had the choice to just leave the class. Nevertheless, my belief in endurance and willpower kept me going.

Here's a glimpse into my personal practice, as I attempt to translate my teachers' wisdom into my own training. To grow, you must suffer.

I still remember trying the complete choreography, which involves pressing down with both legs and hips in the air, for the very first time. And I can still hear my teacher’s voice, saying, "It's like surfing. You have to go WITH the wave, not fight against it. Flow WITH the spring, don’t resist it".

To Struggle and To Suffer Are Two Different Things

There is a crucial distinction between struggling and suffering.

Struggle is a determined journey where you tackle challenges head-on and grow along the way. I was determined to run an entire hour, and even though the last two kilometers were hard and painful, giving up never crossed my mind.

Suffering, however, is the emotional or physical pain that comes with difficulties and doesn’t always lead to positive changes. I was physically and mentally exhausted already before starting my Pilates training. My mind made me suffer during the class, not my body.

Struggle wears a glimmer of optimism, but suffering carries the burden of despair.

Struggling through two kilometers of running, I still thought, “You’re almost there - only two kilometers - you can do it.” Whereas suffering cramps all the way down my legs, all I could think of was, “Only ten minutes have passed? My legs are empty. How will I survive this class?”

My Mind is Sometimes A Bit Dramatic - 3 Lessons From This

Of course, I survived the class with my teacher. Drenched in sweat yet filled with happiness. I felt even better after the class. This is the magic of intelligent movement. And Pilates undoubtedly is intelligent movement.

This leads to the following first two lessons of the week, which are applicable to any life situation:

Lesson Number 1:

Break them into small manageable increments. Just focus on one exercise or movement at a time, like in Pilates. Don’t stay in one position or place for too long or do too much of the same thing. Keep moving and switch up things as much as possible.

Lesson Number 2:

Seek teachers who bring intelligence into their teachings and teach you how to cope with difficulties rather than impose their solutions.

That evening, I went to bed happy and with a pleasant sense of heaviness. I slept deeply and peacefully for full nine hours. Upon waking up the following day, I felt well-rested and strong. Given the surf forecast predicting 8-foot waves, I happily laced up my running shoes instead of reaching for my surfboard.

I felt great. Running felt great. And I enjoyed every aspect of it. The rain, which I adore for its refreshing quality, made it even better. It was great. I felt amazing.

And to my own surprise, I completed my fastest run on this new route, leading me to my third lesson of the week.

Lesson Number 3:

So, Why Must We Suffer To Grow?

I think there are multiple answers to this question. And my answers may differ from yours.

In his book Can’t Hurt Me, David Goggins writes:

David Goggins

And he goes on:

David Goggins is a retired Navy SEAL and the only member of the U.S. Armed Forces to complete SEAL training, Army Ranger School, and Air Force Tactical Air Controller training.

Why did I have to suffer?

I had to suffer to be reminded that my suffering was nonsense, merely a dramatic emotional reaction to a specific situation. My suffering was just a reaction to seeking an excuse to stop and escape my struggle.

Several days have passed; my muscles fully recovered, and the stings from the jellyfish are slowly healing. With some distance from this week's events and through honest introspection, I've found a painful answer.

My suffering was rooted in a hurt ego.

I didn’t suffer because the exercises were so difficult or because my body was so exhausted.

I suffered because I was frustrated.

I was frustrated because my ego being wounded by the fact that I couldn’t easily do an hour-long run.

I was frustrated because I remembered the difficulty and discipline necessary to cultivate resilience and stamina.

Frustration grew as I saw others catching waves while I got stung by jellyfish.

I was frustrated because I had not enough time to take a hot shower before my Pilates training.

I was frustrated because a simple exercise caused painful cramps.

My Conclusion

In retrospect, my experiences through this week’s challenges showed me a profound truth: not all suffering is meaningful.

In fact, the way I suffered was useless. It didn’t teach me anything, imparts no wisdom. Merely leaving behind a bitter taste.

Rather than allowing my ego's wounds to amplify my suffering, I could have embraced my difficulties as opportunities for discovery and transformation. Moments of true struggle bring wisdom and resilience, while the needless suffering has left me with little more than bitterness.

Looking forward, I want to remember that growth lies not just in enduring pain but in the deliberate choice to face challenges with an open heart to learning and the determination to discover new facets of myself with every step I take.