Today I Learned It Has a Name: Day 29 and the Power of Pathos

Day 29 of the 7-40 Challenge
Thursday, January 29, 2026

I’m reading Carmine Gallo’s Talk Like TED, and today I learned something that made me laugh.

Aristotle called it “pathos.”

I’ve been calling it “finding the hook.”

Same thing.

What Pathos Actually Means

Pathos is the emotional appeal in a presentation. It’s the moment when the audience stops analyzing and starts feeling. When they see themselves in your story. When they care.

Gallo breaks down how the world’s best TED speakers use pathos. They don’t lead with data. They lead with stories that create emotional hooks.

And I realized: I already do this.

“There Is Always a Story”

In 2016, I gave a Toastmasters presentation called “There Is Always a Story.”

I opened with a mistake: As an 18-year-old college freshman working for the student newspaper, I brought a date to cover a guest speaker. I cared more about her than doing my job, so I snuck out early.

The next day, my advisor asked, “Did you get my story?”

I said, “I listened. I just didn’t think there was much of a story.”

She exploded: “Are you out of your mind? He was a rescue worker at the Oklahoma City bombing! What do you mean there’s no story? There is always a story.”

That was the hook.

I called the man. He was a youth pastor who loved his life. When the bombing happened, he wanted to help. But at the site, he wasn’t prepared—rubble, bodies, parts of bodies. The team’s morale was crushed when they learned it was an American who had been the cause of the carnage..

Not long after, he found himself on a dark highway at 118 miles an hour, hands white-knuckled, heading for a bridge embankment. The pain had to end.

But the wheel pulled back. Again and again. Someone was praying. Their prayers were answered.

He realized he needed help. Eventually, he started helping others with his story.

When I told that story in my presentation, I wasn’t talking journalism. I was asking the audience: “What story are you telling with your life?”

I used the emotions of the story I told to challenge others to use their stories for good. That’s pathos.

How This Applies to the 7-40 Challenge

I’m creating content every day now, and I’m realizing:

The 7-40 Challenge isn’t compelling because of the system. It’s compelling because of the story.

People don’t care that I’m doing seven habits for 40 days. They care that I’m a 47-year-old two-time cancer survivor who wasted 20 years writing “someday I’ll…” notes and finally started.

They care that I fell in a winter storm but didn’t quit.

They care that I’m doing this for my wife and son—not for fame.

They care because the story is really about them and not me. Hopefully I am just giving an example of something that they could do. Maybe even better than I am doing it.

That’s the emotional hook. That’s pathos.

What I’ve Been Doing Without Knowing It

For years as a Toastmaster, I’ve made people feel before I asked them to think. I opened with relatable human moments, then built to the bigger question.

Today, Gallo reminded me this isn’t accidental. It’s Aristotle’s framework. It’s how the best communicators make ideas stick.

And it’s what I need to keep doing with the 7-40 Challenge.

Find the emotional hook. Connect the audience to the topic. Make them feel before you make them think.

That’s how stories stick. That’s how transformation becomes contagious.

And that’s what Day 29 taught me.


Day 29: Complete ✓

All seven habits executed (walking + reading + creative work done).

Round 1 Progress: 29/40 days (72.5%)

You can watch my Toastmasters presentation “There Is Always a Story” here: https://youtu.be/9-HtN0kA3pI

See you tomorrow for Day 30.

Do Not Grow Weary: Day 28 and the Setback That Won’t Stop Me

Day 28 of the 7-40 Challenge
Wednesday, January 28, 2026

“Let us not grow weary of doing good, for at the right time we will reap a harvest, if we do not give up.”
— Galatians 6:9

Yesterday, I wrote about the rules that make excellence possible. I laid out my seven daily habits—the clear structure that is helping me become the husband, father, and professional I’m meant to be.

I know what I need to do. I’ve set the rules for myself. The system is working.

And then life threw me a curveball.

The Setback

A few days ago, during the winter storm, I fell. Hard. I landed on my right hand.

To say it’s bruised is an understatement.

I’ve been trying to push through. I modified my workouts. I adjusted my grip. I told myself it would get better if I just kept going.

Today, my chiropractor told me the truth: I need to lay off lifting weights for at least a week to give my hand a chance to heal.

And here’s the question I had to ask myself: Do I let this setback derail me, or do I keep moving forward?

Why Getting Fit Isn’t Optional

I’m 47 years old. Getting fit is a must because getting older is no joke. I don’t move like I used to.

This isn’t about vanity. This isn’t about looking good for summer. This is about being able to show up fully for my wife and son. This is about not being the guy who can’t play with his grandkids someday because he didn’t take care of himself now.

Time is precious. I can’t afford to waste it.

And that’s what makes this setback so frustrating. I know I need this. I know every day counts. And now my body is telling me to stop—temporarily, but still.

So what do I do?

The Wisdom of Having a Plan

Here’s what I’ve learned over 28 days: If we’re smart, we have a plan in place for setbacks because we know setbacks are coming.

That’s what setbacks do. They come.

In my 2026 Vision Doc, I wrote out a crisis management protocol:

  • Family crisis: Full priority override
  • Personal illness or injury: Keep all habits except exercise if rest needed
  • Everything else: Spit out the blood and keep going

Today falls into category two.

My hand needs to heal. My chiropractor gave me professional guidance. Ignoring that isn’t toughness—it’s stupidity.

So I’m resting today. No exercise. No weightlifting. No yoga. Just rest.

But here’s the key: I’m still doing everything else.

✓ Bible study
✓ Calorie tracking
✓ Water
✓ Reading (Talk Like TED is firing me up)
✓ Gratitude
✓ Creative work (writing this post)
✗ Exercise (resting today)

Six out of seven habits completed. The system holds.

Tomorrow: Back to Forward Momentum

Day 29, I’ll pick up with a full hour of walking or walking and yoga. No weights until my hand is healed and my chiropractor clears me.

The weightlifting will wait. The 13-week plan will adjust. The rules I set for myself yesterday? They’re still in place. I’m just applying wisdom to how I execute them.

Because the goal isn’t to prove I’m tough by ignoring my body. The goal is to become the best version of myself for my family—and that requires sustainable health, not reckless pushing through pain.

Do Not Grow Weary

Paul’s words in Galatians 6:9 keep echoing in my head today:

“Let us not grow weary of doing good, for at the right time we will reap a harvest, if we do not give up.”

The setback is frustrating. The pause is annoying. The lost week of lifting feels like wasted time.

But I’m not giving up.

I’m not growing weary.

Because I know the harvest is coming.

Twenty-eight days of consistent execution. Weight loss trending in the right direction. Novel revision progressing. Social media breakthrough in motion. Daily blog posts stacking up.

One week of modified exercise doesn’t erase 28 days of proof.

The rules are still in place. The system is still working. The mission is still clear.

I just have to be wise enough to know when to rest so I can keep going for the long haul.

What Do We Do When Setbacks Come?

We do what we planned to do.

We don’t panic. We don’t quit. We don’t let one obstacle derail the entire mission.

We adjust. We rest when needed. We keep moving forward with what we can do while we heal what we can’t.

And we remember: The harvest is coming if we do not give up.

Day 28 looks different than I wanted it to. But it’s not a failure. It’s wisdom in action.

Tomorrow, I walk. Next week, I lift again. The long game continues.

Do not grow weary of doing good.

The harvest is coming.


Day 28: Complete ✓

Six out of seven habits executed. Resting wisely to fight another day.

Round 1 Progress: 28/40 days (70%)

See you tomorrow for Day 29.

The Rules That Make Excellence Possible: Day 27

Day 27 of the 7-40 Challenge
Tuesday, January 27, 2026

I’m reading Carmine Gallo’s book Talk Like TED right now, and in Chapter 1, he asks a question that stopped me on my walk this morning:

“What makes your heart sing?”

The answer came immediately: Being a husband to to my bride. Being a father to my son.

That’s what makes my heart sing personally.

But then he asks another question: “What is your obsession? What are you passionate about?”

And that’s where things get interesting.

The Answer I Didn’t Expect

My obsession isn’t separate from what makes my heart sing. They’re connected.

I’m obsessed with becoming the best version of myself—not for followers, not for book sales, not for speaking fees—but because I can’t be the husband she deserves if I’m dragging.

I can’t be the father my son needs if I’m physically exhausted, mentally foggy, emotionally drained, or spiritually disconnected.

The better I become—physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually—the more I can show up as the man they need. The more I can model the kind of intentional, loving marriage that’s lacking in so much of the world today.

And here’s the thing: I can’t fragment myself. I can’t be excellent at home and mediocre at work. I can’t be disciplined with my spiritual life and careless with my body.

Excellence has to run through everything, or it doesn’t run through anything.

What My Day Job Taught Me About Transformation

I’m a data professional. I’ve been doing this work for over 18 years.

And here’s what I know from my day job: There is process. There is order. There are rules.

Data management isn’t chaos. It’s systematic. Organized. Deliberate.

When you have clear rules—agreed-upon ways to do things—everyone knows how to play the game. Everyone knows what success looks like. Everyone has a shot at excellence.

If I don’t know the traffic laws, I’ll run into people.

If I don’t know the rules of football, I’ll tackle the wrong person and the other team will win.

If I don’t have clear habits, I’ll drift through life wondering why nothing ever changes.

Rules aren’t there to penalize us. Rules are there to help us play the game better.

And by knowing the rules and following the system—the workflow, the structure—we actually have an opportunity to be excellent.

The 7-40 Challenge: The Rules of My Game

So what are the rules I’ve set for myself?

I have to be spiritually healthy.
I have to be physically healthy.
I have to be mentally healthy.
I have to be emotionally healthy.

Because if I’m healthy in those four areas, I can do all the major things I need to do in my life: be a husband, be a father, be a good worker, be a good friend.

That’s why the seven habits aren’t random. They’re strategic:

  1. Bible Study & Prayer → Spiritual health
  2. Exercise (1 hour daily) → Physical health
  3. Calorie Tracking → Physical health
  4. Water (100oz daily) → Physical health
  5. Reading/Learning → Mental health
  6. Gratitude Practice → Emotional health
  7. Creative Work → Mental and emotional health

These aren’t restrictions. They’re the agreed-upon structure that makes excellence possible.

Just like the data governance frameworks I use at work, just like traffic laws, just like the rules of any game—the 7-40 Challenge works because it has rules.

And when you know the game, you can play it well.

How This Helps 1,000 People

Here’s why this matters for my mission to help 1,000 people:

I’m not trying to inspire anyone with motivational speeches. I’m not selling quick fixes or secret formulas.

I’m defining the rules of the game clearly so that anyone who wants to play can play.

Seven habits. Forty days. Analyze. Rinse. Repeat 7 times.

That’s it. That’s the game.

You don’t need to figure out your own system. You don’t need to guess what works. The rules are clear. I am proving the framework as I go.

And just like at my day job, when you define the process clearly, everyone else can follow it too.

That’s not restriction. That’s freedom.

Freedom to focus on execution instead of decision fatigue. Freedom to know exactly what “winning the day” looks like. Freedom to become excellent because the path is clear.

What Gallo’s Question Revealed

So when Carmine Gallo asked, “What makes your heart sing?” I thought the answer was simple: my family.

But what I realized on my walk this morning is that the 7-40 Challenge IS about my family.

It’s about becoming the man she deserves and the father my son needs.

It’s about not fragmenting myself—being one integrated person who brings the same commitment to excellence to every area of life.

And it’s about using the same process discipline that makes me excellent at data work to become even more excellent as a husband, father, and human. And vice versa.

The rules don’t limit me. They make excellence possible.

And if they work for me, they can work for you too.

Because the game has rules. And when you know the rules, you can win.


Day 27: Complete ✓

All seven habits executed. The rules are working.

Round 1 Progress: 27/40 days (67.5%)

See you tomorrow for Day 28.

When Good Ideas Become Relics: Day 26 and the Hard Work of Letting Go

Day 26 of the 7-40 Challenge
I just finished Michael Hyatt’s book Your Best Year Ever.

And then he said something that I can’t stop thinking about:

If you have a goal that you’ve never been able to fully achieve, maybe it’s time to just let it go.

I finished the book and had to ponder that for a long time.

The Ideas I’ve Carried for Years

I have ideas that have been with me for years. Projects I wanted to work on. Tasks I wanted to accomplish. Dreams I’ve nurtured and protected and promised myself I’d get to “someday.”

Many of these ideas are near and dear to me.

But Hyatt’s words won’t leave me alone: Maybe it’s time to just let it go.

Because if I’m honest? Some of these ideas are relics of a time gone by. They belonged to an earlier version of me—a version that had different priorities, different resources, different seasons of life.

I think we do with ideas what we do with children. When the idea is young, we hold it close. We nurture it. We help it grow. We tell ourselves stories about what it will become.

And we get attached. But unlike children, ideas don’t grow up on their own. That is where the metaphor breaks down.

The Weight of Carrying Dead Dreams

Here’s what I’m realizing on Day 26: some of the ideas I’ve been carrying aren’t just old. They’re dead.

But I’ve been too sentimental to bury them.

I keep them on my “someday” list because letting them go feels like admitting defeat. Like I failed. Like I gave up.

But what if holding onto them is actually what’s keeping me from the work I’m supposed to be doing right now?

The 7-40 Challenge exists because I finally said: “This year, I have things I want to accomplish now. These 7 habits will take me there.” Not the other twenty ideas I’ve been carrying. Not the projects from five years ago that still sound good. Just these seven. For 280 days.

And making that choice meant saying goodbye to a lot of other ideas.

Some of them deserved to be set aside. They were good ideas for a different season but not for this one.

But some of them? I’ve been dragging them along for years, and it’s exhausting.

What Hyatt Made Me Face

There’s a project I’ve wanted to work on for almost a decade. Every year, I tell myself this is the year I’ll finally do it. Every year, life gets in the way. Or I lose momentum. Or I realize I don’t actually have the time or resources it would take.

But I keep it on the list. Because letting it go feels like losing a piece of who I thought I was.

Hyatt’s words won’t let me hide from that anymore: If you have a goal you’ve never been able to fully achieve, maybe it’s time to just let it go.

Maybe it’s not failure. Maybe it’s freedom.

Maybe the person I’m becoming doesn’t need that project anymore. Maybe it served its purpose just by existing—showing me what I wanted to care about, even if I never actually did the work.

And maybe—this is the hard part—maybe I loved the idea of it more than I ever loved doing the actual work.

Letting Go So Something Else Can Live

I don’t have all the answers on Day 26. I don’t know which ideas stay and which ones need to be released.

But I know this: I can’t hold onto everything.

Because we’ve been made in the image of God, we are naturally creative. Ideas will keep coming. There will always be new projects, new dreams, new “what ifs.”

But I only have so much time. So much energy. So much life.

The work of Day 25 isn’t just doing my seven habits. It’s sitting with Hyatt’s words and asking: Which ideas am I carrying out of nostalgia instead of mission? Which ones do I let go of?

And then—this is the really hard part—thanking them for what they were and letting them go.

So something else can live.


Day 26: Complete

All seven habits executed. Another perfect day in the books.

Round 1 Progress: 26/40 days (62.5%)

See you tomorrow for Day 27.

Thank You Campaign: The Mentor Who Saw What I Couldn’t See

Today is Day 25 of the 7-40 Challenge—Sunday, January 25th, 2026. I’ve marked out every Sunday this year as my day to express gratitude for someone or something specific. I call it the Thank You Campaign.

I truly believe that gratitude—keeping a grateful heart—is one of the things that leads to personal happiness, fulfillment, and in many ways, success. I also think it’s something God wants from me: to be grateful. And I am so incredibly grateful for so many things.

Today’s topic is mentoring.

Why Mentoring Matters More Than Ever

Over the years, I’ve had some very good mentors—professionally, through books, and teachers I’d consider mentors. But that role of stepping alongside someone and helping them become more than they are is powerful and so very much needed in today’s world.

We get lost in the idea that technology will be able to do almost everything we do today. I think we forget that with the advances of technology, we have to become more human in our interactions if we truly want to be happy. This is nowhere more real than in being a mentor or having a mentor.

When I Didn’t Know My Own Potential

When I was a younger man, I did not know my own potential. I think that’s the case many of us find ourselves in.

I was a music major in college, and not long after meeting and marrying my wife, I realized music was no longer what I wanted to do. So I went to the counselor’s office and asked for “the quickest route to victory.” I know—stupid as that sounds. I went to a 4-year university and played either-or with my major. They gave me two options: sociology or journalism.

I should have chosen journalism. With my interest in writing, fact-finding, and working through details, that would have made great sense today. But I chose sociology. At that time, I was a youth pastor, and the idea of studying groups of people and understanding how they work together made sense. I thought it fit where I was in my life.

Not long after I had my degree in sociology, I was no longer a youth pastor. I had absolutely no idea professionally what I could or wanted to do.

The Wilderness Years

So I did what many people do—I took a series of odd jobs.

I worked as a salesman for the Thomas Kinkade Gallery. Not really my speed. Beautiful art, but I didn’t have much fun selling it.

I worked as an assistant manager at Pizza Hut, where I ate entirely too much pizza over six months. Not my dream job. A very thankless position. It makes me incredibly grateful now when restaurant service is stellar, because when people are hungry, man, they don’t treat you well. Did I see that firsthand.

I also spent time spraying yards at a grass company. That was horrendous in so many ways—not just the job itself, but some of the characters I worked with. I’ll talk about that some other time.

Then I worked as an office manager at an insurance claims firm. This is where I actually started paying attention to my skills and trying to get better at what I was doing.

Enter David

While at that job, I was attending a church in Northwest Oklahoma City. I told one of the pastors that I needed a mentor—I wanted a Christian businessman to come alongside me and help me see the things I wasn’t seeing, help me reframe where I was in my life.

Through this connection, I met a man named David.

David was a salesman—a very successful salesman. He was also a dedicated and devoted husband and a very good father. He was just generally a good dude.

He quickly took me under his wing. Met with me week over week. Did his best to show me what the stability of focusing on your current position and becoming excellent at it could do.

As I watched him, as we studied parts of the Bible together, as we talked about business and life, I started to grow more confident in myself. I started to understand that I had agency and the ability to choose how I reacted to my situations.

Did that make things automatically better? No, it didn’t.

But it gave me hope where I had previously been hopeless.

What His Belief Changed

I was so beat down. So desperate for change.

Having somebody take me seriously—somebody see that I could be more than I was—meant more to me than I can describe.

Not long after we began meeting together, I switched jobs into the career field I’m in now. David was one of the people who helped me see that I could actually do something new, that I could do more than I had expected, and that I had agency where I didn’t realize I did.

I’ve been in my current career more than 18 years now.

The Echo of Influence

I look in the mirror, and I no longer see that person I was back then. Much of it has faded away.

Every once in a while, though, I still see him in there. He still wonders if he’s good enough. He still wonders if he has what it takes to do these things well.

And I can remember David’s example—and many others—showing me that yes, I do have what it takes. Yes, I can make good choices. And yes, the work that I do matters.

Thank You, David

David, if you’re reading these words, know that I appreciate you, my friend. Even though we haven’t talked in quite some time, you hold a very special place in my heart and in the path I’ve been on and the person I am today.

Thank you for your influence. Thank you for your example.

I appreciate you.