Nine No’s and One Yes: Where My Energy Really Comes From

On Saturday night in Pilsen, I stood in the middle of a club with my teammates, the music loud, the lights moving, everyone laughing — and I felt nothing.

Not nothing emotionally. I was happy to be there. But my body was empty. My energy level was so low that even lifting my arms felt like work. The boys were dancing. Some were drinking. It was our last evening of training camp in the Czech Republic, and normally that’s the moment you enjoy — the moment where discipline turns into celebration.

I said to my brother, “Sorry. I have to go back to the hotel.”

It was just after one o’clock when I lay down in bed. I remember thinking: four days ago, I was looking forward to this weekend. And now I feel completely drained.

We had three training sessions a day. Normally, in a regular week, I train twice. That’s intense enough. But this was different. Morning, afternoon, evening. High intensity. No real break. You feel strong at first. You push. You want to prove something. And then slowly, without noticing, your battery goes down.

What surprised me was not the physical tiredness. I know that feeling. It was the social emptiness. I had no motivation to celebrate. No energy to connect. That told me something.

Energy is not only physical.

On a normal week, I would say my energy is stable. Monday to Friday, I have what I call a “normal level.” Not extremely high. Not low. Just steady. I am not a morning person — that’s clear. I don’t jump out of bed full of fire. But if I have something interesting ahead of me, a good customer meeting for example, then I feel something different. Anticipation gives me energy.

Before this training camp started, I woke up on Thursday with a good mood. I didn’t have to work. That already changes something inside me. Julia brought our son to kindergarten, and I had time until noon. A relaxed morning. Coffee. No pressure. And then the thought: today we go to Pilsen. That positive feeling — that expectation — that was energy.

I’ve realized that looking forward to something is one of my strongest sources of energy.

It’s the same with customer meetings. On a normal day, my energy is middle level. But if I know I have an interesting discussion ahead, I feel more awake. I prepare carefully. I write notes. I think about the person. How does he tick? What is important to him? That preparation gives me confidence, and confidence protects my energy.

Sleep, interestingly, is not a big issue for me. Even if I sleep badly, my day runs normally until late afternoon. Only in the evening I feel tired. During the day, I function. Maybe that’s discipline. Maybe it’s routine. I don’t know. But I don’t collapse because of one bad night.

Weather influences me more than sleep. When the sun is shining, I feel lighter. In winter, when it’s dark and rainy for weeks, my energy is lower. It’s subtle, but it’s there. I notice it especially when spring comes. Suddenly everything feels easier.

And then there is driving.

I spend many hours in the car, especially when I go to Austria. For me, long drives are not a problem. I actually like them — if I am not late. Being late stresses me. That costs energy immediately. But if I plan properly, drive one day, have meetings the next day, then I am relaxed.

I start with my own coffee. Most of the time, I drive nonstop. Eight hours to Belgium once — no problem. I call colleagues. I call friends. Sometimes Julia. Sometimes I listen to a podcast. But mostly, I listen to Radio Schlagerparadies. For me, that is an energy booster. Familiar music. Simple songs. It keeps me steady.

The car itself also matters. My first company car was a BMW 3 Series. Manual gear. No assistant systems. Only cruise control. Long drives were more demanding. Now I drive a BMW X2 with most important systems — lane assist, warnings, comfort. It makes a difference. Good infrastructure protects energy. It reduces stress you don’t even notice until it’s gone.

I think that word — infrastructure — is important.

Family is infrastructure. Routine is infrastructure. The right tools are infrastructure. Football is infrastructure.

After a long workweek, I can be tired on Friday evening. But when I go to football training, something changes. During training, my energy drops more — physically I am exhausted. But after training, I feel better. Clearer. Lighter. Dopamine, maybe. But also team spirit. Movement. Responsibility. I need that.

Still, football can also drain energy — especially when you lose.

This season we are at the bottom of the league. We recently lost badly. And when you lose again and again, the team energy goes down. You feel it in the dressing room. You feel it in yourself. Success gives energy. Losing takes it.

Sometimes I think maybe it would be better to go one league down. Win more games. Regain confidence. Step back to move forward. Energy is connected to success — but success does not always mean staying at the highest level. Sometimes success means finding the level where you can grow again.

Work is similar.

I once spent a year trying to find the right contact at BMW for a project. It would have been easier to walk away. But special projects give me energy. The challenge gives me energy. When something is difficult, I don’t feel drained — I feel activated.

Right now, management wants us to visit 20 end users per week. That’s 80 per month. Realistically, maybe five good projects come from that. Many conversations end with “no.” Earlier in my career, rejection would cost me energy. Now I see it differently.

I once heard a simple idea: you need nine no’s to get one yes.

So I turned it into a game. If I get five no’s and then one yes, I start again at zero. Suddenly rejection is not personal anymore. It’s part of the system. It’s discipline. The fear of rejection — that’s the real energy killer. When you remove that fear, you protect your battery.

That doesn’t mean chaos disappears. There is pressure from management. From targets. From football results. From family responsibilities. Life is not perfect.

But I chose this job. And every job has parts that are interesting and parts that are not. I don’t have another choice — so I focus on what refills me.

For me, that is success. Even small success. A good meeting. A project moving forward. A win with the team. A calm evening at home where my son laughs. Those moments recharge everything.

Ten years from now, I will be forty. My son will be twelve. Technology will change. Maybe my job will change. I don’t know.

What I hope stays the same is this feeling: that my work does not feel like work.

Today, it doesn’t. It feels like conversations. Relationships. Solving problems. Driving through countries with music on the radio. Training with my team. Coming home tired but satisfied.

If that feeling is still there in ten years, then I think my energy will still be there too.

Because in the end, energy is not about how much you have.

It’s about whether what you give it to gives something back.