Hell Week: Seven Days to Be Your Best Self - Hardcover

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Erik Bertrand Larssen is a performance consultant who energizes people into successful careers and happier lives. After serving with the military as a paratrooper, he worked in the telecom industry, moved into headhunting and then started mental and career coaching. Holding a Masters degree in business economics, Erik is the number one mental trainer in Norway with clients ranging from business executives at Fortune 500 companies to Olympic medalists. An Oslo, Norway native and a father of five, Erik splits his time between his hometown and New York City.

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Hell Week

STEP ONE: EMBRACE ADVERSITY

If I had to choose one word that embodies Hell Week and the method behind it, that word would be adversity. For soldiers undergoing the military version of the seven-day challenge, it’s all about the will to continue. That’s why I love that quote from Churchill in the introduction: “If you are going through hell, keep going.”

As you get ready for Hell Week, the notion of adversity always should be foremost in your mind. My clients are sometimes confused by this mandate when I first start working with them, since my method is so much about focusing on success. They’re confusing failure with adversity. Failure is a negative. Adversity is a positive. Indeed, it’s one of the best forms of motivation, provided you’re prepared for it.

I once served with a fellow paratrooper whom we called Ice Cube because he loved the cold. Norwegians are, of course, accustomed to frigid conditions, but this guy really seemed to thrive in them. I asked him about this one day and his response was simple. “I’m good at being cold,” he said. For whatever reason, Ice Cube was able to withstand cold temperatures much better than other people. It’s not that it was easy for him. I watched his teeth chatter and his lips turn blue along with everybody else. But he was able to persevere and see through to the other side of the pain. And this became an incredible motivator for him. Every time he overcame the cold, it provided a sense of achievement and recognition.

During Hell Week, I want you to get good at being cold. I fully believe that it’s possible to teach yourself to not just handle adversity, but to truly enjoy it. And through that process, you will build strength and character. It’s a great opportunity that so many people miss because they’ve been conditioned to avoid adversity. Remember, adversity doesn’t equal failure. It equals opportunity. Adversity is part of the journey toward a worthwhile goal.

I learned this lesson the hard way one morning in February 1996. I was still in the military, returning to the base from a twenty-four-hour R and R at my family home. The mountain roads were icy, so I was taking it slowly. Around a sharp bend, a bus filled with tourists heading for a skiing holiday slammed into my tiny Renault. Just before impact, I assumed the position we use in parachuting, pulling my legs halfway under my body, hunching my back and neck, and pushing my underarms together and my fists over my head.

A shrill, metallic sound followed, then the violent force of impact—twice, in fact, as the bus spun around and broadsided me a second time. Then all was silent. I sat still for a few seconds and examined my body, patting my legs, my thighs, my stomach, and my chest. I felt intact. I crawled out of the shattered windshield and shifted into military mode, doing my part to secure the scene and tend to injured tourists. Eventually the emergency services arrived.

A policeman approached me and said they were looking for the passengers of my Renault, and pointed to my crumpled wreck of a car. For the first time, I let myself slip down onto the ground. “I think you should come along to the ambulance,” the police officer said. The adrenaline seeped out of my body, and all at once I felt the pain in my knee, chest, neck, and head.

Fortunately, miraculously, none of my injuries were serious—a couple of bruised ribs, a mild concussion, and a gash on my knee. I was discharged from the hospital, feeling very lucky, except for the crushing pain in my head and neck.

That’s when the real struggle began. The first year after the accident was the toughest of my life. The pain didn’t go away. It stayed with me all day, every day. Though I was able to complete my certification as a paratrooper, the pain eventually forced me to leave the military.

I made the decision to study economics at the Norwegian School of Economics and Business Administration, hoping the rigors of academia might distract me from the pain. One day into lectures and the pain had won. I couldn’t concentrate. Sleep was fitful at best. I lost my girlfriend. I began to despair and feel sorry for myself. I met with all kinds of specialists, from chiropractors to physiotherapists. My depression only grew deeper. I traveled to Sweden, the United States, and Australia to meet with more specialists. Nothing helped. I started to lose faith and think even darker thoughts.

One day my father called to see how I was doing. I told him the truth, putting it all on the table. “It must be challenging,” he said. We talked about this and that, and then he said something unexpected. “Erik, you’re in one of these situations where, as they say, the wheat is separated from the chaff. This is where you get to prove what you’re made of.”

That same day I had a conversation with a minister whom our family had known for years. He, too, asked how I was doing, and again I told the truth. For the second time that day I got a surprising response. “Isn’t it fascinating,” he said.

“Fascinating?” I answered.

“Yes,” he said. “The range of emotion we have inside. It’s fascinating. A human being can feel everything from extreme happiness, love, joy, achievement, and safety to the deepest sadness, fear, and misfortune.”

In the days that followed I reflected on these two conversations. Slowly, I began to see my situation in a different light. The state of adversity I was in was a kind of challenge. My father’s words made me realize that. They got my competitive juices flowing. Would I overcome it or be swallowed whole?

The minister’s words, meanwhile, made me think about the inevitable ups and downs of life. I realized that I was on an incredible high before my accident—thriving in the military, being in love with my girlfriend, and forging lots of friendships. Now I was experiencing the opposite. I was in the downturn, and I actually felt lucky to be there. Life becomes stronger and richer when you can feel the ups and downs, and the bad feelings with the good.

With this new perspective, I began to rally. I countered the adversity with small changes, both physical and mental. I began to build up my strength and my powers of concentration, allowing myself longer breaks and rest periods in the beginning. I was in hell. I just needed to keep going.

I began to like adversity. I wanted to win. It took me eleven years to get through business school. The journey was longer and harder than I thought possible. But when I phoned the exams office to learn my final grade on my master’s thesis, and the woman on the other end of the line said “A,” I burst into tears of happiness.

Today, the experience of my accident and recovery is central to who I am. I wouldn’t have gotten where I am without it. I actually feel lucky to have been through the ordeal, because it allowed me to recognize life’s ups and downs. I know that whenever darkness descends, I can fight my way back into the light.

That’s one of my adversity stories. What are some of yours? That’s the question for you to answer during this stage of your Hell Week preparation. Obviously, you’re not going to go out and seek to create adversity in your life (especially a horrible car wreck). But I do want you to redefine the meaning and role of adversity in your life.

Remember that anyone can perform well when things are going their way. The...