t/“Ambition without action is anxiety.”
Justin Spearman learned this the hard way.
In his early 20s, Spearman showed promise—he had the talent, energy, and network to move quickly in a competitive industry. But what he hadn’t yet developed was the discipline to match the pace. He was moving fast, but without a clear internal compass. And in time, that lack of direction came at a cost.
Now at 37, Spearman is a man rebuilt. A disciplined operator in both business and life, he lives by a different code—one forged in the fire of failure and refined through faith, fitness, and fierce accountability. His story is no longer about success that came too soon. It’s about the long road of rebuilding, one rep, one contract, and one obedient decision at a time.
Table of Contents
The Danger of Fast Starts Without a Foundation
Spearman began his career in oil and gas at 22, starting with Apache Corporation in Houston before transitioning to Midland, Texas to work independently as a Petroleum Landman. By 24, he had been given several promising opportunities—chances that could have led to something lasting. But without the maturity to steward them well, many of those opportunities were ultimately wasted. The maturity, discipline, and grounding needed to carry the weight of those opportunities hadn’t yet been developed—and beneath the surface, that imbalance was already taking its toll.
Beneath the surface of what appeared to be progress, things were quietly coming apart. In 2013, Spearman left Midland and returned home to Florida, carrying with him more internal unrest than direction. Eighteen months after Spearman’s return to Winter Park, Florida, the cracks in his foundation had widened. A series of poor choices—rooted in misplaced priorities and a lack of internal discipline—culminated in federal charges for wire fraud, followed by additional charges at the state level.
The consequences were real, and they were humbling. His reputation, career, and sense of self all came undone. But in the wreckage, he was left with a decision that would shape everything that came next: stay stuck in regret—or take responsibility and rebuild with purpose.
Discomfort by Design
Prison stripped away distractions, excuses, and ego. What it left behind was clarity. Spearman didn’t just endure incarceration—he used it. He started tutoring fellow inmates in math and GED prep, discovering that leadership wasn’t about elevation—it was about service.
His faith, once defined by rigid rules, evolved into a relationship. Through Inside Out Jail Ministries, he learned that obedience is more important than opportunity. That real joy is hidden not in the result, but in the act of showing up when it’s hard.
He stopped chasing feelings and started choosing discipline—physical, spiritual, and emotional.
“In six months, you’ll either have six months of excuses or six months of progress.”
That mantra became his compass.
Built to Serve, Not Impress
“If you want to buy things without looking at the price, then work without looking at the clock.”
Since his release, Spearman has quietly rebuilt his reputation in oil and gas. He didn’t talk his way back in—he worked his way back in. His calendar doesn’t revolve around comfort; it revolves around conviction.
He wakes early to train. Not just for aesthetics, but because the gym reinforces what life has taught him: you grow when you choose discomfort on purpose.
His body is a reflection of his mindset—strong, steady, and built by repetition. His spiritual life is no different. He trains there too—through prayer, service, and decisions rooted in obedience, not optics.
Success now means staying ready. It means honoring his word. It means surrounding himself with other disciplined men who don’t confuse progress with perfection, but who sharpen each other toward both.
Faith, Fitness, and Forward Motion
“If you argue for your limitations, you get to keep them.” – Steven Furtick
Spearman doesn’t hide his past—but he doesn’t live there either. Today, he uses it. He mentors younger men navigating failure. He serves on faith-based committees. He trains his body with the same precision he now brings to his decisions. And through it all, he keeps showing up—not for applause, but for alignment.
When asked what drives him now, he says this:
“God hides the resource of joy in the act of obedience. I’m not chasing opportunities—I’m chasing alignment with the life I was meant to build.”
He doesn’t count reps. He doesn’t count hours. He just counts the cost—and keeps paying it daily.
Final Set
Justin Spearman’s life is proof that collapse isn’t the end. It’s often just the call to begin again—with more clarity, more resilience, and more impact.
And that’s a man worth following.