At one point in my life, my entire job description fit into a single sentence: Go in circles very, very fast… while wearing spandex. That was it. That was the résume line. Because for years, my world revolved around a single obsession, shaving fractions of a second off each lap on a track that never changed.
People often imagine the Olympics as glamorous. The reality is much different…how you say? Most days were the same rink, the same Zamboni-exhaust-filled air. My teammates and I chased each other through corner after corner until our legs burned and our lungs felt like they were shrinking. Circles, Speed & Spandex. Perhaps a sequel to a rom-com set on ice.
Long before I was ever invited to speak as one of today’s inspirational speakers, I was just a short track athlete learning to embrace repetition and grind that no one sees. Early mornings in Seattle, endless laps on the 111-meter oval, tapering drills before the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympics - some days I shaved hundredths of a second and felt unstoppable. Other days, I was just… spinning, wondering if it would ever add up.
The turning point came during my preparation for the 2006 Turin Olympics. Every drill, every lap, every push against exhaustion felt like it was testing more than my speed - it was testing patience, focus, and mental resilience. Later in my career, I realized how similar that sensation is to everyday life: the long hours, repeated tasks, and unseen effort are only meaningful if paired with direction and purpose.
Today, our “ice rink” looks different. It’s the endless Zoom/Teams/Google calls, inboxes that repopulate like they’re running on AI, and deadlines that multiply every time you breathe.
Most people don’t wear spandex while doing it, but the feeling is the same: Working hard. Sweating. Grinding. And still not actually moving forward. The power of the stage is something that I’ve come to embrace every time I step on stage and am invited to speak as one of the top motivational speakers, I talk about everything from strategy, to high performance, team culture, & grind/hustle, but very few admit that hustle can become its own trap - one I know intimately.
There was a point in training when my coach pulled me aside. He said, “Apolo, you’re getting faster… but not better. That line hit me like a slap.
And here’s the mistake so many of us make - especially high performers, leaders, teams: We confuse activity with progress.
This is where the talks I give now often begin - not with a metaphor, but with a mirror. Because it’s the same mirror I needed years ago.
That same question hits leaders, teams, and organizations every day, especially when work feels urgent but doesn’t actually move the needle. The challenge is this: define the race that matters. Define the finish line that counts. Then, have the discipline to say “no” to everything else. Because effort alone doesn’t create champions - direction does.
I’ve learned this firsthand. Companies seeking to partner on strategy, culture, hard pivots and ultimately seeking sought after motivational speakers, the lessons that resonate most aren’t about perfection - they’re about struggle, clarity, and the courage to admit when I was stuck.
This is why organizations hire me today. I don’t just speak about performance - I show leaders and teams how to find the real value in the noise, break repetitive cycles, and turn clarity into action. My path wasn’t linear. It was a spiral, full of recalibration, focus, and tough decisions. And it’s that real-world experience I bring to every stage, boardroom, and workshop.
At the end of each day, I still ask myself the same question I asked during my final Olympic cycle: “Did I move closer to what matters…or just get faster at being busy?” If it’s the first, you’re building momentum. If it’s the second - good news.
Tomorrow gives you another lap. Another shot. Another chance to shift from mindless speed to precision strategy. And if you can do that last part without spandex? Trust me - you’re already winning.