One morning about 15 years ago, I woke up in my car, covered in sweat.
In less than an hour, I had to take the MCAT exam.
And if I didn’t pass, I wouldn’t get into medical school.
To pass the MCAT, you need to get at least a 28.
I had taken the MCAT 5 times before...
But despite spending countless hours studying (and even taking a Kaplan prep course), I had never done better than a 19.
So there I was, laying in the backseat of my car, feeling sticky from sleeping in my clothes in the hot Florida sun.
I felt like I hadn’t slept a wink...
And as I walked into the test center, I couldn’t stop shaking.
For the next 8 hours, I slogged through test questions I had no idea how to answer.
The whole time, I had this nagging feeling inside of me that I was wasting my time.
What was the point of sitting here all day, grinding through this test and making myself miserable, if I was just gonna fail anyways?
I felt like a rat trapped in a cage, with my back to the wall.
Sure enough, a few weeks later, I got my results back.
And not only did I fail...
I actually did worse than last time.
I was crushed.