Beyond Grit: What Navy SEALs Teach Us About True Toughness
How to Respond, Not React, in a World of Pressure
Hell week is notoriously difficult. The capstone test for Navy SEAL candidates. Five and a half days of extreme training designed to push candidates to the utter brink of exhaustion. Sleep deprivation, hypothermia from kneeling in the frigid ocean water with waves crashing onto you, all while being assigned physically and mentally demanding tasks to complete. The goal is simple: evaluate how people react under extreme fatigue, stress, and uncertainty. Can the candidate pull his mind away from the miserableness of the situation and figure out how to get himself and his teammates through it. In other words, who has the capacity to make the right decision under periods of stress, anxiety, and uncertainty? Who has the ability to slow the world down and act skillfully during challenging situations? Who has true toughness?
For decades, the US military has sought to find what secret sauce the individuals who make it through Hell week possess. Do they have a certain mental attribute that separates them from the rest? Research has been mixed at best. When I asked a former Navy Seal about who made it versus who didn’t, he replied “There is no one thing that determines success or failure of a candidate. However, going into it I thought the team sports guys, the former football types, would have an advantage. They were used to working with others towards a goal. They were big, strong guys. But I was wrong. The candidates who came from endurance sports– rowers, runners, swimmers– those guys made it at a higher rate. I don’t know what it is, but maybe they were used to suffering, being alone in their head.”
This isn’t just conjecture or a wild hypothesis; a study commissioned by the US military investigated which physical test could best predict Hell Week Success. In evaluating over 2,000 candidates on a number of tests aimed at evaluating strength, speed, agility, and endurance, a 3 to 4-mile run beat them all. Run 4 miles in 28 minutes or over? Less than 8% of candidates survived Hell Week. Improve that time by just over 2-minutes to run under 26 minutes, and the success rate shot up to 25%. The best success rate, sitting at 35%? Those who ran faster than 24 minutes for the 4-mile course. “The take-home message is to improve your running to the best of your ability because it is the single most important factor for completing Hell Week."
We can only speculate why running faster tends to improve success rates. It could be that Hell week requires more endurance or a better ability to recover from the countless tasks. That certainly is a possibility. But, we’d be remiss if we didn’t consider the mental component.
When talking to one of my former athletes who also happens to be in the military, about his experiences in survival training, he relayed a story about being stranded in the woods, “It’s easy to lose your head out there. You’re in the woods, with nothing to eat and no idea where you are for days on end. No clue when your next meal is coming or when you will be out of here. Stress, anxiety, lack of sleep and food; that’s the name of the game. People spiral bad. A normal guy can turn into a shell of himself by the end. People default to their basic survival instincts.”
When asked about what he thought separated those who were able to keep their cool versus those who let the experience get to them, he said, “You know in the middle of a race where you are having that inner debate? Half your mind is screaming at you to slow down as your legs burn with what feels like battery acid. And the other half of your mind is saying ‘No! Toughen up. You can get through this. You’re fine.’ Being in survival situations is like having that conversation constantly, for hours on end. It’s unrelenting. And you’ve got to get used to that back and forth in your head, how to filter out the bad. Running made it where I was used to finding a path through the negative mess. Some guys are used to doing that for short bursts, like a football player who needs to suck it up for a 3-second play before he gets a break to regroup. Others have never really had to experience it all. Modern life allows you to escape without having to win the inner battle. In running, and survival, you had to learn how to live on that edge with no breaks coming until it’s all over. That’s not a fun or easy thing to do.”
Was he on to something in his observations? Did toughness lie in the ability to create space for proper decision-making? In a study out of the University of Western Australia, coaches of elite Australian rule football teams were asked what characteristics represent toughness. At the top of the list, consistent and superior decision-makers. Last on their list: physical attributes. In another survey of over 130 elite coaches across sports, the most important characteristic was concentration.
What the research and experiences of Navy Seals and my former athlete alike point towards are that contrary to the popularly held view, real toughness is not about gritting your teeth, hiding your fear, or blindly pushing through whatever obstacles you encounter. External acts of manliness, strength, and physical posturing may create an illusion of toughness, but they are often telltale signs that someone lacks it. Real toughness is harder.
The concept of toughness is difficult to pin down. We all intuitively ‘know’ what it means, but when we drill down to what makes up toughness, it quickly devolves into an all-encompassing cure-all to our problems. Being mentally tough becomes the answer to any performance shortfall. Even in the research world, over 30 attributes have been attributed to being tough, including: determination, confidence, self-control, handling pressure, discipline, dealing with adversity, intrinsic motivation, self-belief, work ethic, and more. Add in the opposite of our popular conceptualization of toughness, ‘weakness’, and it gets even murkier. Once a person is labeled mentally ‘weak’, the person in charge of getting them better is absolved of all responsibility. After all, any performance shortfall can be explained away. The concept of toughness can apply to just about whatever we want it to. Maybe this is why we love to profess its value?
Instead of a concept that can mean whatever we want it to be, why not narrow down onto the core performance issue that toughness is trying to solve? What do the military experiences describe above have in common with Bob Knight’s goal in improving his basketball team? Or the employee who is about to give a major presentation or the parent who has to decide what the best route for their child is after he or she has gotten in trouble? In just about every situation we describe as needing ‘toughness’, whether it works out or not is dependent on the decision made.
When we talk about toughness, what we are after is the worker, child, parent, or athlete making a ‘good’ decision. They choose to get up after getting knocked down, to work through their anxiety to nail their talk or make the difficult call to move on from a project that they invested time and money into. When it comes to toughness, it's all about the decision.
True toughness is quiet and comes deep from within. It’s about making the right choice under stress, uncertainty, and fatigue. It requires emotional control: cultivating the power to respond—not react—and thus making thoughtful, deliberate decisions during pressure-filled situations. Real toughness is borne out of authentic self-security that is rooted in confidence, but not arrogance. Toughness is about figuring out how to thrive in the face of stress, adversity, and everyday challenges. It isn’t concerned with posturing; it’s about what puts individuals in the best place to find the ‘correct’ answer in difficult situations.
On the athletic fields, that means staying calm and collected to make the pass while 300 pound linemen are about to tackle you to the ground; refocusing with clarity instead of rage after your last pitch just got knocked out of the park by the opposing team; accepting that the correct decision is to ignore your ego and turn back down the mountain, despite the peak being a stone's throw away.
True toughness means offering guidance, but not holding their hand; putting them in situations where they are challenged just beyond their reach, instead of sink or swim; of letting individuals figure it out with support and care, not mindless discipline; of seeing failure not as an invitation for punishment, but as a necessary part of growth and development; of allowing for exploration and imperfection.
The route towards such toughness doesn’t lie in being callous, but in being vulnerable. Of finding and acknowledging your strengths and weaknesses so that you can figure out how to respond to whatever you may face. Toughness is a skill that we can develop, not through mindless suffering, but intentional practice.
-Steve
P.S. My latest book is part of a 50% off deal for Labor Day Weekend. The sale ends Monday. I’ve got no control over it, just hope you benefit from my work.

This is why I love running - not for the running itself, but for all of the other little lessons that the process of running forces me to learn. I've learned I'm tougher when I persist at something I'm not inherently good at.
The ability to compartmentalize issues and the ability to break a large task into small pieces (aka solve each piece and you solve the task) are absolute skills sets for success, in my opinion.