It’s Supposed to Hurt

It’s Supposed to Hurt

This morning, before heading out to watch the men bowl at Team USA trials and before Bella bowls this afternoon, I found myself sitting with a lesson from a podcast I listened to earlier today.

The reflection came from an idea shared in Same as Ever, referencing a powerful scene from Lawrence of Arabia. In the scene, Lawrence calmly puts out a lit match with his fingers. He doesn’t flinch. Another man, watching closely, tries the same thing and immediately yells in pain. Confused and frustrated, he asks what the trick is.

Lawrence’s response is simple.

The trick is not minding that it hurts.

That idea stayed with me. Because so much of life and growth works exactly the same way.

We often look at people who are excellent at their craft and assume it must not hurt for them. We assume they found a shortcut, a hack, or some secret way around the pain. But when we try it ourselves, reality hits quickly. It does hurt. It’s uncomfortable. It takes time. It requires patience and endurance.

That’s when many people quit.

But that’s also where the real work begins.

As I sat with this thought, Bella immediately came to mind.

She started bowling at nine years old. She didn’t know how to throw the ball. She didn’t know how to manage frustration, pressure, or expectation. What she did know, early on, was what it felt like to struggle. Awkward releases. Missed spares. Long practices. Mental fatigue. Physical soreness. Moments of wondering if this was really for her, especially when others made it look easy.

What most people don’t see are the sacrifices. The early mornings. The long drives. The repetition. The emotional ups and downs. The systems she had to build for her mind and her body. The discipline it took to keep showing up when improvement felt slow.

It hurt.

And it still does at times.

Bella hasn’t mastered greatness. But she is mastering the craft of greatness. She has standards. She has vision. She has awareness. She has learned how to focus on what matters and grind through what doesn’t feel good in the moment. She understands that growth isn’t painless and that progress often feels uncomfortable before it feels rewarding.

That’s the lesson I keep coming back to.

Learning hurts. Growth hurts. Sharpening hurts.

But if we stop trying to avoid the pain and instead expect it, something shifts. We stop looking for shortcuts and start building strength. We stop asking why it’s hard and start asking what the discomfort is teaching us. Eventually, we don’t just tolerate the pain. We welcome it, because we know it means we’re becoming better than we were yesterday.

This journey isn’t about avoiding what hurts.

It’s about not minding that it does.