Perseverance > Endurance

What is the difference between "perseverance" and "endurance?" Two friends I greatly admire, Brandon Young and Blayne Smith, explore this in their new book, which I have been given the privilege of receiving an advance copy of.

The book's introduction was killer. It explores the relationship between perseverance and endurance through the lens of "hardship" (overcome through endurance) and "adversity" (overcome with perseverance). This excerpt in particular resonated with me:

"If moments of hardship require endurance, the true adversity brought about by change and uncertainty requires perseverance. Adversity results from hardships that compound in uncertain times for an unknown duration. And while hardship is the event that challenges us, adversity is the course that transforms us. Hardship is singular in this effect. Adversity is plural. Hardship is predictable and present. Adversity is unpredictable and always imminent. Whereas endurance manifests as a refusal to give way amid a particular hardship, perseverance requires us to give way in the right direction amid adversity. Endurance requires us to hold on. Perseverance invites us to move on."

Not many people know more about this distinction than Brandon and Blayne, who together run Applied Leadership Partners . Brandon is a legend from the 75th Ranger Regiment and has more combat tours than the USO. Blayne was a Special Forces officer who commanded over 200 combat missions in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The distinction resonates with me in particular. Despite seemingly having some outward success, my life has required a lot perseverance. My college football career was nearly over before it started when the arch of my foot collapsed during a game my senior year in high school. 90% of the schools that had offered me scholarships rescinded them.

Luckily, Wisconsin honored their commitment. Six surgeries later, my foot was reconstructed and I reported to training camp in Madison. A month later I blew out my shoulder, ending my freshman season. Going into my junior year I changed positions and earned a starting role during spring football, only to blow out my other shoulder - effectively ending my career.

I turned my sights on the military. The Officer Selection Officer refused to submit my paperwork because of my injury history, so I went to enlist. I was initially denied enlistment for the same reason, and had to appeal to the Pentagon for a special waiver. Eventually I got it.

My first tour was in the Triangle of Death during the deadliest year of the Iraq war. My squad leader was wounded and sent home within weeks. Shortly thereafter I was promoted and suddenly responsible for far more than I was prepared for. Our platoon was bloodied badly, taking several dead and many wounded over seven months.

I was selected into a scout-sniper unit following that tour. When I reported to Sniper School I immediately sensed the physical, mental, and emotional challenge that lay ahead. I nearly failed out of the course twice in the first two weeks. During my first attempt at the land navigation test I developed horrific blisters on my feet and fell off a cliff during the nighttime portion. That's a hard fall when you're carrying 70 pounds of gear and a rifle. The next day I had my sniper partner cover the blisters with duct tape so that I could go out for my final pass-fail attempt. I passed, but my socks didn't. They were so covered with blood and puss that they were thrown into the trash.

I later found myself in Afghanistan's Helmand Valley, where for seven months my six-man scout-sniper team hunted Taliban forces while supporting Marine and British infantry troops. It was a challenging and ambiguous mission - poorly defined, poorly resourced, and poorly supported. Every moment was unpredictable and uncomfortable. But we persevered.

After coming home I spent the following decade building Team Rubicon , which despite today's profile and success was far from a sure-thing. Building a nonprofit in the shadow of the Great Recession seemed nearly impossible at times. There were countless months where we thought we wouldn't make it. I practiced my, "Sorry, team, we can't make payroll this cycle" speech more times than I care to remember. But we persevered.

Launching and scaling Groundswell has been no different. In some ways we've been blessed with good fortune - like being able to raise venture capital money in 2021, before those opportunities dried up. In other ways we've been unlucky - like trying to scale a B2B SaaS company during the worst inflationary period in recent memory. Or, perhaps even more extraordinary, being caught in the collapse of Silicon Valley Bank and spending 96 hours frantically trying to secure emergency loans to make payroll while pondering whether $8 million had just evaporated forever, alongside our company's future.

Don't get me wrong - alongside the hardship I've endured I have also lived a very blessed life. I grew up in a very stable and loving household. I never went hungry as a child. I attended amazing public schools that were safe and academically strong.

Some would argue that any hardship or adversity I've faced was hardship or adversity I've sought out. Perhaps that's fair.

Nonetheless, when I think about that "one thing" that distinguishes success from failure, it is that one word: perseverance.

I'm reminded of one of my favorite quotes (which I imagine I'll come across in Blayne and Brandon's book soon!) by Calvin Coolidge:

“Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan 'Press On!' has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.”

The book is titled Perseverance > Endurance: Lead with Resilience. Grow Through Adversity. Win Together. Be sure to check it out in early 2025. In the meantime, follow Applied Leadership Partners - their content is amazing.