What Defines You?

What defines you? This is a seemingly simple question that can be laughed at and avoided when the recipient is unsure of how to answer. Where do you start? How far do you take it? How honest are you with your interrogator? And quite frankly, how often does a person think that deeply into a question like this? I mean, come on, who has the time to sit around and generate answers to borderline philosophical questions like this one? Or am I in the minority here?

The first time I ever thought about this question was years ago, and it has been ingrained in my brain since. I volunteered to be the designated driver for my buddy and his friend from his shop. I drove us downtown, where we met a handful of other people they worked with at a local Irish bar. I had never been to an Irish bar before, so I was not sure of what to expect. Lucky for me, it was live music night, and I already have trouble hearing people as it is, and now I have to attempt to decipher the slurring speech of this group of friends. I stood there unsuspectingly, about thirty “no ways” into this guy’s story, when out of nowhere, my buddy’s plus one for the car ride strides up to talk to me.

The short, long blonde-haired man slings an arm over my shoulder like we played little league together, mind you, I met him hours prior, “WHAT ARE YOU ABOUT?!” He borderline yells at me. I, for one, could barely hear him over the sound of the tipsy singer playing “drunken sailor” for the fourth time that night, and for two didn’t know how to answer what I thought he asked me. So, he repeats himself, this time with a little more gusto and weird hip movements as if his Elvis dance moves were going to help me understand him better. I mean, in hindsight, I did hear him this time, so I guess he was onto something. “WHAT ARE YOU ABOUT, BRO?!” he offers up a sample solution to this SAT-level question he just blurted at me, and I would say everyone in a five-foot radius, “My name’s Whitlock, I’m about drinking beer and big women,” he then hand gestures at me to signify it was my turn.

I could not follow that grand finale of an answer, obviously, so I naturally laughed it off and avoided the question, patted him on the back and raised my half-empty glass of water, and he clinked my glass and responded with “HELL YEA MAN!” So, I guess he understood exactly what I was about at that moment. Better than I did.

That question stuck with me, not because I couldn’t answer it that night, but because of how often it shows up in places you wouldn’t expect. Over time, I started realizing that most people do answer it, just not out loud. They answer it through their habits, their routines, and the things they stick with when no one is watching. What you’re “about” isn’t what you say in a loud bar on a Friday night; it’s what you consistently do on a random Tuesday when motivation is low, and progress feels slow.

That’s where this question quietly shows up in training. Not in some dramatic, philosophical way, but in simple decisions: how often you train, how long you commit to a plan, and how quickly you abandon it when something new catches your attention. The lifters who make progress aren’t necessarily more talented or more motivated; they’re the ones who decided what they’re about and let their training reflect it. The ones who struggle are usually still answering that question, week after week, program after program. Have buy-in. Commit to a long-term training plan and give it your best effort. That is where true progress is made.