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52 pages 1 hour read

David Goggins

Can't Hurt Me: Master Your Mind and Defy the Odds

Nonfiction | Autobiography / Memoir | Adult | Published in 2018

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Chapters 6-8Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Chapter 6 Summary: “It’s Not About the Trophy”

The story flashes forward several years to 2005. Goggins was in the middle of his first ever experience running an ultramarathon, the San Diego One Day. He writes that at that time he hadn’t run over one mile in the previous six months but that he still had the idea to try a 100-mile, 24-hour course. He kept pace the first 25 miles and seemed to be doing well. He was supported by his second wife, Kate.

The director of the ultramarathon, John Metz, checked on Goggins throughout the first half of the race because he could tell Goggins was not in the right kind of physical condition for a 100-mile run. Goggins was too proud to accept help. Goggins notes he was racing to raise money on behalf of fallen comrades’ families, so the decision to take on this athletic feat was uniquely meaningful.

At this point, the narrative flashes back in time several years as Goggins describes friends who died in an operation in Afghanistan. At the time of their lethal mission, Goggins was engaged in freefall certification to become part of DEVGRU, an elite group within the Navy SEALs. Goggins tells the story of learning of the death of his friends and then informing another of them that his twin brother was MIA. This brother, Morgan, refuses to believe that his twin, Marcus, is dead. It turned out that he was right. Marcus was the sole survivor of a major battle with the Taliban. This is the story told in the bestselling book, Lone Survivor by Marcus Luttrell (adapted into a 2013 film starring Mark Walberg).

Goggins wanted to run an ultramarathon, the Badwater 135, to raise money to support the families of his fallen friends. He called the director of the Badwater race, Chris Kostman, at the recommendation of SBG, but Kostman was not impressed with Goggins. According to Goggins, the Badwater race is the “most difficult race ever conceived” (148). It takes place during the middle of summer in the hottest place on earth, Death Valley, CA, and continues for 135 miles to an elevation of over 8,000 feet. Goggins, having no previous long-distance running experience, was not an ideal candidate. Kostman knew this and said that if Goggins wanted to be permitted to race in the Badwater, he would have to complete an “easier” ultramarathon first. This is how Goggins ended up running the 24-hour, 100-mile race in San Diego.

Goggins returns to the narrative of the San Diego race, noting that he started to fall behind his pace at about the 50-mile mark. He describes slipping into a daze amid his immense pain: “Fog gathered around the halogen street lights, ringing the lamps with electric rainbows, which lent the whole event an otherworldly feel. Or maybe it was just me in that other world. One in which pain was the mother tongue” (149).

At the 70-mile marker, Goggins reeled so badly that he had to pause and rest in the lawn chair his wife Kate, who luckily is a nurse, brought for him. His body deteriorated. His feet were blooded. He urinated blood. He could not control his bowels. Goggins walked the next 11 miles, but at that pace he was no longer on schedule to finish the race, which must be completed in 24 hours.

To fight against the voices of doubt in his head, Goggins had to vocally pump himself up in the race. He discovered the idea of the cookie jar analogy. He recalled past victories and used them as fodder (or kindling) for future successes. He takes these out of the “cookie jar” of his mind to keep him inspired.

Goggins describes arriving at his apartment with Kate after the race and the pain and suffering he experienced. A doctor told Kate that Goggins’s kidneys might be failing (after he excreted strange brown bile), and she wanted to rush him to the ER. He didn’t want to go; he wanted to feel all the pain he could. He writes, “I didn’t want to mask this pain. I’d just accomplished the most amazing feat in my entire life. It was harder than Hell Week, more significant to me than becoming a SEAL, and more challenging than my deployment to Iraq because this time I had done something I’m not sure anyone had ever done before. I ran 101 miles with zero preparation” (157). Goggins reflected on the idea that the human mind is capable of more than he ever thought possible, and he saw no reason to stop uncovering these mysteries in himself.

Challenge 6 asks the reader to take stock of their own cookie jar, i.e., their bank of accomplishments. Goggins tells his reader not to skip challenging obstacles or seemingly minor achievements when doing this inventory and that positive self-talk can be crucial to victory.

Chapter 7 Summary: “The Most Powerful Weapon”

Goggins continued his mission to get accepted into the Badwater ultramarathon. He has something to prove to himself, but also a noble philanthropic goal. He felt strongly determined to be able to fulfill that philanthropic goal by becoming an ultra runner and using his winnings as proceeds for the charity. Kostman, the director of Badwater, was still not impressed with Goggins but encouraged him to apply anyway.

With severe foot and leg injuries, Goggins was still recovering from the 100-mile San Diego race when he decided to walk a normal 26-mile marathon in Las Vegas with his mother and Kate. To his own shock, when the race commenced, he bolted at full sprint. He ran the entire marathon and finished quickly enough to qualify for the Boston Marathon, a very competitive race. He was shocked by himself and asked himself what he was capable of. “As I looked around the finish line that day and considered what I’d accomplished,” he writes “it became clear that we are all leaving a lot of money on the table without realizing it. We habitually settle for less than our best; at work, in school, in our relationships, and on the playing field or race course” (164).

After the Las Vegas marathon, Goggins trained for the Hurt 100, an ultramarathon in Hawaii that he had to complete before applying to the Badwater. His training was intensive, but he worried that it was insufficient. The Hurt 100 takes place on a 20-mile trail that requires 5 circuits. Goggins had no experience running on rocky terrain. He was more prepared now than he was for the San Diego One Day, but he was still deeply underprepared.

Shortly after the Hurt 100 commences, Goggins Camelbak (a backpack that carries water) breaks. The task of staying hydrated became more difficult and added to the already severely burdensome task of running a steep trail for 100 miles for the first time. Goggins was struggling by the end of his second circuit, 40 miles into the race. On his third lap, Goggins saw an impressive ultramarathon runner in a state of delirium. By the end of this lap, Goggins felt like he was nearly spent and wondered how much further he could push himself. He realized, though, that he is an obsessive person, and he wants to go beyond his own perceived limitations. It is at this point that he introduces the concept of the “governor,” the aspect of the human psyche that oversees and regulates human achievement. He also introduces the 40% rule, the idea that most humans coast by in life only giving 40% of themselves. He writes, “I understand the temptation to sell short, but I also know that impulse is driven by your mind’s desire for comfort, and it’s not telling you the truth. It’s your identity trying to find sanctuary, not help you grow. It’s looking for status quo, not reaching for greatness or seeking wholeness” (173).

Goggins completed his fourth lap. He was then lapped by the eventual winner of the race, who was also a new record setter. Goggins saw human potential in this runner’s performance and was astounded by the beauty of his graceful navigation of the course. It inspired him to complete a fifth and final circuit, which took him eight hours to walk. He finished in ninth place.

Goggins was then accepted into Badwater. He decided to strategically study for the race and thoroughly plan, realizing that unlocking human potential requires thoughtful strategy, not merely extreme determination or willpower. He described many long hours of training in high-intensity heat for his run in the California desert. He felt isolated and lonely and was mocked for his ridiculous goals. He taught himself not to care.

On race day, Goggins kept pace with a racing friend for the first 17 miles but eventually lagged, thinking that he overexerted himself early in the race. Despite this, he raced through Death Valley and continued hiking through the night. He went long stretches of time without encountering any other runners. At daybreak, he was at mile 110 (of 135) and resided, so he says, on “planet pain” (184). He was assaulted by horseflies of which he writes, “They beat their wings against my skin, bit my thighs, and crawled into my ears. This shit was biblical, and it was my very last test” (184). Goggins finished in fifth place. At the race’s conclusion, he did not feel elated as he thought he would. This is a common occurrence for Goggins at the end of an accomplishment. Of his inner monologue, he writes, “There is no finish line, Goggins. There is no finish line” (190).

The goal of Challenge 7 is to slowly learn how to override the control of the governor, the default mode of the mind. This requires a mental dialogue in which you take charge of the governor. Achieving this goal involves incrementally increasing physical training.

Chapter 8 Summary: “Talent Not Required”

Goggins was in the Hawaiian town of Kona to compete in the Ultraman competition. This competition is a three-day event that, according to Goggins, requires competitors to “swim 6.2 miles, ride 261 miles, and run a double marathon, covering the entire perimeter of the Big Island of Hawaii” (192). Prior to the race, he was invited to stay with a wealthy individual in his mansion. Goggins appreciated the chance to show this to his mother, who had been through so much pain, but still felt very of place and that he had a lot to prove.

There were only 30 competitors in the field and Goggins sized them up. He noticed one man with a particularly intense and commanding presence who was in a wheelchair. People of “immense” presence like this, Goggins writes, are the exact sort that he was trying to learn from and emulate.

The triathlon started badly for Goggins, who went over a mile out of the way in the swim competition and had to hustle back on course. The second event was the cycling race, in which he started in 14th place. By the end of the day, though, he made it to 2nd place and was only a few minutes behind the leader. He was doing very well the next day, too, when suddenly his front tire went flat, and he crashed to the ground. He didn’t have the proper tools or parts to fix his bike, and after 20 minutes he jumped on his stand-by bicycle, which was not nearly as good a machine. He lost a lot of time. During the double marathon on the final day, he raced hard but did not pace himself intelligently. He hit a brick wall early and fell behind. Still, he finished in second place in the Ultraman, and he realized this was no small achievement. He writes: 

On day three of Ultraman, I tried to win with sheer will. I was all motor, no intellect. I didn’t evaluate my condition, respect my opponents’ heart, or manage the clock well enough. I had no primary strategy, let alone alternative avenues to victory, and therefore I had no idea where to employ backstops (198).

Because of the positive press he generated from his successful forays into the world of ultra competitions, Goggins was given a meeting with a Navy admiral and ordered to join a recruitment division. By this point, Goggins had already become something of a public speaker, but this would take that part of his career in a more serious direction. The admiral wanted Goggins to go on recruiting tours, giving speeches in traditionally underrepresented areas. Goggins details the demographic issues in the U.S. military, noting that in the United States special forces only about 1% of all operatives are Black even though 13% of the American population is Black. Goggins’s mission was to change that and to reach communities of color with his inspiring stories of adversity.

Between 2007 and 2009, Goggins writes, he spoke to hundreds of thousands of people at many different universities, colleges, and high schools. He gave public talks all over the country most of the year. He built his racing schedule around his recruitment schedule so that he gave addresses on weekdays and raced ultras in nearby locations on weekends. He wanted the young people he spoke with to know that he was living the ethos, not merely preaching it. This, he believes, made him more effective. Between intense physical training and his assignment as a recruiter, Goggins had two full-time jobs.

Goggins writes that as he built up notoriety as a public speaker students started exercising with him in the morning and going on long hikes or pacing with him at races. His life became just as much about setting an example for ambitious young people as it was about personal toughness. He shares one example, among many, in which he lets two teenage boys from inner-city Atlanta interested in the Navy SEALs live and train with him in San Diego.

Goggins describes returning to Kona in Hawaii for an Ironman performance with a Navy SEAL friend. By this point, Goggins was an athletic and military celebrity and his performance was detailed on television. Goggins and the other SEAL competed with one another, finished side-by-side, and hugged. It represented the comradery and competition that go together in the SEAL ethos, according to Goggins. He now took time to reflect on how much was good about his life and what he had to be grateful for, which stood in stark contrast to the horrors of his childhood and adolescence. This coincided with learning that he had an atrial septal defect. A cardiologist told Goggins he has a literal hole in his heart. The doctor went on to inform Goggins that he was born with it and has always had it.

Goggins required surgery, but it didn’t go as expected. The anesthesia didn’t completely take, so he was awake and uncomfortable through the entire operation. Worse still, the operation was botched. After a few days of light exercise (after a week of rest), Goggins experienced more heart arrhythmia and eventually had to go back for a second operation. The hole was still open. The chapter ends as Goggins reclines and awaits the second surgery. He wonders if he’s satisfied with his accomplishments thus far and if he’ll be able to take it easy. The answer he gives himself is a resounding “no.”

Challenge 8 tells the reader to engage in extreme time management to see how much time is spent on frivolities, social media, meals, etc. Then he recommends scheduling a series of short blocks of time throughout the day with total dedication and focus given to the task at hand before any engagement with the next task. He is strongly opposed to multitasking.

Chapters 6-8 Analysis

These chapters find Goggins further exploring his limitations as a warrior and testing the boundaries of his mental and physical fortitude. Along the way, he learns several important life lessons, which become the central theme of the respective chapters. In Chapter 6, when Goggins tests the waters as an ultramarathoner, he learns about the consequences of his pride and overconfidence. Reflecting on the extreme pain he suffered in the San Diego race he writes, “I’d run seventy miles in twelve hours with no training, and this was my reward” (151), at once acknowledging his superhuman endurance and the ridiculousness and thoughtlessness of his lack of training. “The toll of hubris,” he goes on, “is heavy on the ultra circuit, and my bill had come due” (151). Hubris will be a constant battle for Goggins. It is at once his ticket to accepting difficult challenges and his punishment for getting in over his head. For example, Goggins’s failure to employ backstops during his triathlon was, according to him, his undoing. His failure to learn bike mechanics, bring spare parts, or rent a better backup vehicle, are all failures to include backstops. The lesson he draws from this is a deeper repetition of a lesson he had to teach himself several times in events detailed in the last few chapters: it is just as important to have superior intellect as will and physical prowess.

Goggins asks himself the same fundamental question he always asks when things get incredibly difficult: why am I doing this? The answer is something about the uniqueness of his resolve, his desire to test his potential, and, most essentially, the necessity of suffering. He writes:

It’s funny, humans tend to hatch our most challenging goals and dreams, the ones that demand our greatest effort yet promise absolutely nothing, when we are tucked into our comfort zones. I was at work when Kostman laid out his challenge for me. I’d just had a warm shower. I was fed and watered. I was comfortable. And looking back, every single time I’ve been inspired to do something difficult, I was in a soft environment, because it all sounds doable when you’re chilling on your fucking couch, with a glass of lemonade or a chocolate shake in your hand. When we’re comfortable we can’t answer those simple questions that are bound to arise in the heat of battle because we don’t even realize they’re coming (152-153).

One common theme uniting Goggins’s athletic accomplishments is how often he attempts something without any previous experience in the field. Our dreams and aspirations arise when we are in places of comfort and security, but whether those dreams can become realities cannot be answered in this same place of comfort. They require suffering and sacrifice. When Goggins asks himself why he’s doing something, he is challenging his motivation for initiating the pursuit of his dream.

Goggins also here develops the idea of the mental “cookie jar.” The cookie jar singles a transformation in the way Goggins motivates himself. Previously, with the accountability mirror, he used negative self-talk to whip himself into shape. Now, with the cookie jar of successes, he uses his past accomplishments to build himself up positively. This seems to parallel with a higher level of human accomplishment, as he believes the achievement of this ultramarathon to be the hardest thing he had yet done. He writes, “it’s the small sparks, which start small fires, that eventually build enough heat to burn the whole fucking forest down” (155). The view is to take small, incremental steps toward something radically different. Change does not occur in large doses overnight.

Another prominent idea developed in this section is the “governor.” He compares a human being to an automobile. He writes, “In a car, the governor limits the flow of fuel and air, so it doesn’t burn too hot, which places a ceiling on performance. It’s a hardware issue; the governor can easily be removed, and if you disable yours, watch your car rocket beyond 130 mph” (172). Goggins’s analogy does not imply that there are no limits to the human body or mind; still, rather, the perception of those limits is misguided. To understand true human potential one needs to override the governor in one’s mind. In other words, we cannot totally replace our hardware, but we can radically update our software to push the hardware much farther than previously assumed.

Goggins hammers home the point that “there is no finish line” in life. This view generally parallels his lack of joy when he achieves his highest goals. For Goggins, his goals are about living an uncommon life, not achieving an objective end. “Talent wasn’t required for this sport,” he writes, “It was all about heart and hard work, and it delivered relentless challenge after relentless challenge, always demanding more” (193). The fact that there is always something more one can challenge oneself with drives him past any finish line and explains why his narrative continues to the time of publication: he is always seeking the next challenge.

Chapter 8 is the first moment of the narrative in which Goggins shows how his solitary effort—the lonely nights doing extreme physical training—spills over into a larger good that others can appreciate and use. It functions as a fulcrum in his life’s orientation from solo, introverted mind games to inspirational public speaking. As time goes on, Goggins’s life becomes more and more about helping others. This is a result of his dedication to himself, not despite it. For Goggins, the bridge is strong between self-empowering individual work and altruistic dedication to a neighbor, student, or comrade.

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By David Goggins