March always feels like a reset.

Everything starts to wake up again. Growth returns. Not all at once, but little by little. And it makes me think about my own growth. Not just what I’m doing, but who I’m becoming.

Because for a long time, success looked different to me.

When I first started winning, it was more selfish. I wanted to prove myself. I wanted to reach my goals. I wanted people to see what I could do and how far I could go.

That drive mattered. It pushed me. It helped me discover what I was capable of.

But over time, something shifted.

Success stopped being just about me. It became about impact. About how many people I could reach doing something I love. About leaving bowling better than I found it.

And that change gave everything more meaning.

Because goals will always matter. Achievements will always be part of the journey. But they are not the whole story. At some point, you realize it’s not just about what you accomplish, it’s about what you contribute along the way.

I’ve also learned that growth doesn’t always show up on paper.

Some of the biggest growth you’ll experience can’t be measured. It won’t always show up in results or stats. It’s something you feel before you can prove it.

It’s awareness.

It’s realizing you’re not the same person you used to be. You think differently. You handle things better. You stay more steady when things don’t go your way.

You recover faster. You don’t let one moment define you like you used to.

That kind of growth doesn’t always get recognized, but it’s real.

And it matters, because failure is part of all of this.

Failure will either frustrate you or shape you.

It will either take your joy, or force you to find it in a deeper place.

That’s a choice.

And that’s where intentional persistence comes in.

Not just showing up and going through the motions, but choosing to stay locked in. Choosing to keep growing. Choosing to keep your joy, even when things aren’t going your way.

Because if your joy is only tied to results, you’ll always feel like something is missing.

But if you learn to find it in the process, in the growth, in the chance to do what you love, everything changes.

For me, it all comes back to this:

Who I’m becoming matters more than what I’m achieving.

I want to keep growing. I want to make an impact. I want to leave the sport better than I found it.

That’s the legacy I care about.

Not just what I accomplished, but how many people I was able to reach along the way. How many lives I could make better by doing something I love.