As of yesterday, I've lived and breathed on this earth for 33 rotations around the sun.

And when you're from Indiana, 33 could only mean Larry Bird.

I have no idea if Larry Bird (or as announcers called him, "the Hick from French Lick") is a household name across the country, but to a kid from Southern Indiana, not too far from where Larry himself grew up, Larry Legend is part of the culture.

Not only was he one of the greatest basketball players of all time, he was proof that a kid from nowhere special could become something extraordinary.

It wasn't even his natural talent that lead to his greatness, Larry himself has been quoted saying, "I wasn't real quick, and I wasn't real strong. Some guys will just take off and it's like, whoa. So I beat them with my mind and my fundamentals."

Maybe even more famous than the game he played left-handed just because he knew he could (and was later quoted answering reporter's questions of WHY he would do such a thing, Larry said, "I’m saving my right hand for the Lakers.”) was his work ethic.

He was notorious for showing up hours before anybody else.

He wasn't dribbling between his legs, hanging off the rim, or shooting 3's from half court.

He was going through the motions, perfecting the basics. Even when Larry Bird was at the height of his career, playing for the Boston Celtics, he'd shoot at least 500 free throws before every game.

You, like any sane person, might wonder why someone *that good* would bother.

The free throw is the most basic of shots. But free throws win games.

Nailing the basics, day after day after day, means you win.

"I remember my Larry Bird year," my dad said last night. (I remember it too, because I was 12 when my dad turned 33, which feels insane.)

Now that I'm metaphorically wearing his number, I've been thinking about how I want to remember my Larry Bird year.

I decided to spare you "33 Lessons I've learned in my 33 Years".

Instead, I'll share what I'm taking into 33 (the year I've committed to writing a novel 🫣): I'm done giving any of my attention to better, faster, easier ways to do things. I'm done searching for shortcuts. Done reading and studying about how to be the best of the best.

My Larry Bird year is the year of putting everything I know into practice.

This is my year of showing up before dawn. Of writing and writing and writing for hours. Of mastering publishing my work until it's second nature.

Because whether you're writing novels, building your business, or working to become literally anything extraordinary — there are no tricks.

Just daily practice, consistent effort, and the willingness to do the boring stuff that wins games.

Cue the national anthem.

Olivia

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