A golfer once asked me what my favorite weather was for caddying. I told him, "The kind that keeps everyone else home." I wasn't joking.

Cold rain. Forty degrees. Wind that finds every opening in your rain jacket. Once you accept you're going to be soaked, you quit fighting reality. You stop complaining about the clouds because the clouds don't care.

There were times in my twenties when I thought every hardship was temporary — that if I worked hard enough, the storms would stop coming. Turns out that's not how it works. You just get better at walking in them.