JOURNAL / PHILOSOPHY
2026.10.03

I respect David Goggins, a strange man

5 min read

Contents

Hard worker, superhuman, former Navy SEAL. None of that is quite enough. This is about the "strangeness" of a man who pushes himself beyond common sense, and doesn't stop.

David Goggins running in Death Valley in 2007
Running through Death Valley in the Badwater Ultramarathon, 2007. U.S. Navy / Seaman Brandon Rogers — DVIDS
135kgHis weight, once
3xHELL WEEK
100miAbout 160 km
4,030PULL-UPS

Some people work hard. They get up early. They lift every day. They run marathons.

And then there's a man who seems to be on the same line, but is clearly something else. David Goggins.

Former Navy SEAL. Ultramarathon runner. Former Guinness World Record holder. On paper, he's "an impressive person." But the more you follow his story, the more your reaction changes.

This man is a little strange. And I have real respect for that strangeness.

He was a 135 kg pest-control worker

Goggins wasn't superhuman from the start. After leaving the Air Force, his weight climbed to about 135 kg (around 300 lb). He worked in pest control.

Then one day he saw Navy SEAL training on TV. Most people would think "wow" and move on. He decided, "I'm doing that."

But with the body he had then, he couldn't become a SEAL. So he lost more than 45 kg in about three months. What most people would take a year to do, he did in months by turning his whole life upside down. Already, this is a bit off.

Three Hell Weeks

SEAL training includes "Hell Week": about 108 hours of being pushed to your physical and mental limits through cold and sleep deprivation. It's hell, as the name says.

Goggins went through it three times, including restarts due to illness and injury. A man who came back from hell, heading back in. "Grit" doesn't cover it.

THE STRANGE PART

A man who came back from hell, heading back in.

Barely running, then 100 miles

He wanted to raise money for wounded soldiers. To do that, he wanted to enter the brutal "Badwater 135" ultramarathon. But he didn't qualify. First he had to finish a 100-mile race.

By his own account, he was running only about 20 miles a year at the time. The qualifier was about three and a half days away. Most people would wait until next year. He entered, and finished. About 160 km.

His reason: "Because I needed to." It makes no sense. But I can only bow to that kind of consistency.

David Goggins pouring water over himself while running the Badwater Ultramarathon
Goggins dousing himself with water in the brutal heat of Death Valley. U.S. Navy / Seaman Michael Lindsey — DVIDS

He doesn't run because he likes it

This is what draws me in most.

You'd assume someone who runs that much loves running. But before the 2007 Badwater 135, he told a reporter, "I hate running." He finished third in that race.

He doesn't do it because he likes it. Not because he's good at it, or because he's in the mood. He does it because he decided he would.

It's the exact opposite of self-help's "find what you love." It's "do it even if you hate it." I think that's crude. But taken that far, it stops being funny.

4,030 pull-ups

In 2013, Goggins did 4,030 pull-ups in 17 hours, setting what was then a Guinness World Record.

Not 10. Not 100. 4,030. After 20, I'd head home thinking, "Good back workout today." He does another 4,010. At this point, it's less effort than obsession.

Still running

He has taken on more than 70 ultra-distance and endurance races. There must have been a path where he did something amazing once, wrote a book, and said, "I used to do crazy things."

This man is still running. He hasn't stopped being strange.

David Goggins embracing teammates at the finish of the 2008 Ironman World Championship
At the finish of the Ironman World Championship, 2008. U.S. Navy / Paul Honnick — DVIDS
01 / BODY
From about 135 kg, he remakes his body to aim for the Navy SEALs.
02 / HELL
He goes through Hell Week three times, including restarts.
03 / 100MI
From barely running at all, he heads into a 100-mile race.
04 / 4,030
4,030 pull-ups in 17 hours. Effort taken to the point where it looks like obsession.

What he's looking at is the far side of pain

People avoid pain. It's cold, so we stay in. We're tired, so we rest. As living creatures, that's correct.

Goggins goes the other way. It hurts, so he goes. He wants to run away, so he doesn't. He treats the brain's voice saying "stop" as the starting signal.

So I don't think you need to copy his life as it is. You don't need to run until you're injured. You don't need to cut your sleep. You don't need to become Goggins. If an ordinary person did what he does, they'd break. It's a special way of living that works because he's him.

Still, there's one thing we can borrow.

Is "I don't feel like it today" a reason not to?

Sleepy. Can't be bothered. Scared. Embarrassed. Not confident. We can make up any number of reasons every day.

Watching Goggins, I want to ask myself each time:

QUESTION

"Is that really a reason I can't?"

He isn't impressive because he's perfect. He got fat. He ran away. He was weak. He was in pain. And still, he dragged himself back out again. That repetition is what brought him here.

Become a little strange

I want to change my life. I want to make something. I want to get somewhere different from the usual. Saying that while keeping everything within the bounds of "normal" is a bit of a contradiction. If you want results different from other people's, at some point you need to act differently from other people.

You don't have to go as far as Goggins. Get up a little earlier every day. Do just one more rep. Keep going for five minutes at the point you want to quit. Keep making things even if no one understands. That kind of "small strangeness" is within our reach.

Watching Goggins, I don't really feel told to "try harder." It's more like he's laughing at me: "Is that really your limit?" It's annoying. But at the same time, it's a little exciting.

That's why I respect David Goggins, a strange man.

He is clearly not normal. And because he isn't normal, he's cool.