Cameron Hanes is best known as a modern icon of grit: a bowhunter, ultramarathoner, and author who preaches discipline like gospel. His mantra—Keep Hammering—has inspired countless people to train harder, suffer longer, and aim higher.
But in a recent candid conversation on the Modern Wisdom podcast with Chris Williamson, Hanes opened a different door. He set down the bow, took off the camo, and talked about something much heavier than an elk packout or a 200-mile run.
His biggest regret?
“I regret pushing my boys too hard.”
The Blueprint Was Broken
Hanes didn’t grow up with a roadmap for fatherhood. His dad wasn’t around. His stepdad? Someone he “hated.” So when it came time to raise his own sons—Tanner and Truett—he defaulted to the only model he trusted: toughness.
“Life will kick you in the nuts,” he said. “So they’re going to be ready for anything.”
That meant mandatory runs up mountains after school. Half marathons at age seven. No room for whining, no space for softness. “If a loose ball hits the floor, I better see floor burns on your knees,” he told them. “Kids just want to play. I made them compete.”
It wasn’t just sports or fitness. It was a worldview: average was failing. Struggle was sacred.
From the outside, the results look impressive. Tanner became an Army Ranger. Truett broke the world record for pull-ups and turned himself into a modern-day David Goggins. Both are disciplined, driven, and thriving.
But what about the cost?
“I wasn’t perfect raising them,” Hanes admitted. “It wasn’t great. When we left town, it was playtime. When I came back, it was like—‘Oh shit.’ I was always the bad guy.”

The real gut punch came when Tanner told him he was leaving a secure job as a deputy to enlist in the military. That pride came laced with fear. What if his parenting—his relentless message that “average is failing”—was the reason his son might get deployed? Or worse, not come home?
That question haunted him.
“I told him, ‘There’s nothing wrong with a regular job. I was wrong for what I said raising you kids.’”
It’s a reckoning many parents never speak aloud.
What Hanes is wrestling with isn’t rare. It’s something nearly every self-made parent, especially dads, face when they raise kids in a life they never had.
As podcast host Chris Williamson put it: “There’s not a single dad I know who crawled out from where they were as a kid and made something of themselves, who doesn’t worry about this.”
Even Ben Francis—the 31-year-old founder of Gymshark, worth billions—has spoken about this tightrope. He was raised by a blue-collar granddad who made him work in a pottery barn. Now, he’s raising twin boys in a mansion. How do you teach hunger when your fridge is always full?
It’s the classic paradox: we fight to give our kids comfort, then worry that comfort will ruin them.
What the Research Says
Interestingly, science backs up both Hanes’ fears and his instincts.
Studies show that children who face moderate challenges—what psychologists call “adversity-lite”—often develop greater grit, emotional regulation, and adaptability. But there’s a catch: the adversity has to be paired with warmth and support.
According to a 2022 review in Frontiers in Psychology, kids thrive when parents set high expectations and show consistent emotional support. High standards without love? That’s just pressure. And pressure without trust can harden into trauma.
Hanes didn’t lack love, but as he admits, his delivery was off. “I was throwing footballs as hard as I could. Tanner broke his hand punching the ground after a dropped pass. It was always war.”

Losses That Shaped a Legacy
The irony is, the strength his sons show today wasn’t born from victory. It came from years of losing. Truett, now a fitness machine, used to get beat by his brother and cut from teams for being too small.
“I thought I was just weak,” Truett told him years later. “I didn’t know I was going against beasts.”
He wasn’t losing. He was being forged.
Still, that doesn’t erase the emotional weight of those years. Hanes seems to know that now. He even wonders if his sons would’ve ended up 90% of who they are without the forced hardship—just with fewer scars.
And that might be the hardest part: realizing your kids didn’t need to suffer as much as you did.
“I didn’t make them go up the mountain,” Hanes says now, “but they saw me go.”
That might be the real legacy.
Experts like Dr. Dan Siegel emphasize that modeling behavior—how parents live, love, and show up—is far more influential than what they say. Your kids don’t follow your lectures. They follow your life.
So yes, Hanes was extreme. But he also lived his values. He still runs. Still lifts. Still shows up. And that consistency may have done more to shape his boys than any punishment or pressure.
In the end, Hanes’ confession isn’t about shame. It’s about reflection. It’s about asking a question every parent eventually faces:
Did I push too hard?
He probably did. But he also gave his sons something most kids never get—a front-row seat to struggle, discipline, and purpose. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll use that to build a better version of the same story.