College, Cosplay & (Cheese) Curds

Last weekend I went back to college. Not my college (and not any college) — my girlfriend’s alma mater, the University of Wisconsin in Madison. And not in the normal “tour the campus, grab some merch at the bookstore” sense. Nope, I went full blown college sophomore returning to campus thinking I’m the absolute man.

It was big-time college football, bars, cheese curds, brats, and beers (surfsides) as far as the eye could see.

It was glorious. It was amazing. It almost killed me.

And yes, for everyone asking,

I did get on an elevate surface at a frat party.

Six years out of college, I can finally admit something brave: I don’t have it anymore. Cosplaying a college kid beat the living shit outta me. My brain isn’t working, my legs are weak, everything hurts. I am sick as a dog. I am 29 years old and simply not built for warm natty lights & fried food anymore.

And honestly? That’s okay. I’m brave enough to admit it. I LIKE clean sheets. OR some coconut water. Or a splash of almond milk. OR a nice seasoned piece of salmon for dinner.

At some point in life you have to recognize when it’s time to hang the jersey in the rafters. You don’t need to play every game forever. Retiring from keg stands isn’t losing a step — it’s gaining self-awareness.

That’s the same shift you make in business. Early days, you say yes to everything: every opportunity, every experiment, every hustle. You throw yourself into it all because you can. But if you keep that pace forever, you burn out. The real professional move is knowing where not to play. Knowing what you’ve outgrown. Knowing when to trade beer bongs for boundaries.

Because just like college kids can out-party you, there’s always going to be a competitor who can outspend you, out-staff you, or outwork you in some way. That’s not the point. The point is figuring out your lane and playing it better than anyone else.

So yeah, I had fun. I’ll even go back someday. But the next time I’m on a college campus, it’ll be for parents’ weekend, not a frat basement. And I’m weirdly proud of that.

By the way- the frats at UW Madison are lake front mansions. What the actual fuck? I fear I made a big mistake going to college in Lewiston, Maine landlocked between nothing and more nothing.

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I used to think I was good at birthdays.

Turns out, I was just good at making excuses.

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