Five weeks ago, I pulled a 41.3-second 250 meter row. Today, I hit 40.2. Just over a second faster.
Most wouldn’t notice the difference, but if you’ve ever chased improvement in anything, lifting, rowing, writing, or career-related, you know what that second really means.
It’s not one test. It’s everything between the test and the retest.
Early mornings. Late nights. Lifting after focusing on a screen all day, securing cloud configs, writing incident reports, and drafting security policies. Endless meetings, collaborating with stakeholders, or staying disciplined enough to meal prep when convenience is whispering your name.
The first test showed where I was. The weeks that followed demonstrated what I was willing to do to get a little bit better every day.
That one second didn’t come from luck. It came from honesty. From taking stock of where my form slipped when fatigue hit, where breathing got shallow, where my leg drive gave too early, and where comfort started whispering, “Hey man, you’ve done enough.”
It came from the same place real growth always hides: the re-tests, not the first runs. Every domain follows the same law: test, learn, refine, retest. That’s how systems harden. That’s how people do, too.
The next time you test something, whether it’s a lift, a sprint, IAM permissions, or a personal limit, remember this: progress rarely looks dramatic as it happens. It might seem minor, but the one second I cut over five weeks shows the value of steady effort. Others might have said, “Hey man, that 41.3 is pretty damn good for a man your age.” For me, that will never be enough.
What “the science” says:
- Power output was 673 Watts
- VO2 Max is 68.5 ml/kg/min
- Faster than 95% of male rowers your age
- 89% faster than all male rowers
No matter what, 41.3 → 40.2 is proof that attention to detail and small improvements over time are earned, never issued, and that’s the real story.
Matt Shannon, Security Pro 