What It Really Takes to Compete at the Top: Life as a Military Marksman

When most people think of “winning,” they imagine a moment, the award, the podium, the medal. But in elite military shooting, that moment is the result of months, sometimes years, of relentless grind, where every day, every bullet, every step, and every decision matters.

I started my journey at the company level, competing against 50–75 peers in our annual shooting test. Winning best shot in my company earned me the Marksman Badge, but it wasn’t just an award. It was a ticket into the Snipers Platoon, where only the top performers from each company came together. Within that platoon, about 8–10 of us competed for spots on an 8-man battalion team. Only the best made it, meaning at most 1 or 2 from each company would move forward.

From there, the journey expanded: at brigade level, our battalion fielded two teams while most units had only one. We competed against roughly 10 other teams of 8, meaning 80 highly skilled soldiers at the brigade level were vying for a minimal number of top spots. Success meant advancing to division-level competition, where we faced another 10 teams of 8, totalling about 80 more elite competitors. From there, the very best advanced to Bisley, the UK’s premier military shooting event, with over 1,000 army competitors alone and a total of 1,500–1,700 including the Navy, Royal Marines, and RAF. Only the cream of the crop from each branch made it, and then the best of those would go on to represent the UK internationally—against Canada, the US, Australia, the Netherlands, and others.

The Secret: Obsession and Consistency

Competing at this level isn’t just about talent; it’s about sheer, obsessive repetition. Our entire lives revolved around shooting. Every weekday began at 8 a.m. on the range, firing thousands of rounds a day each. We repeated competition shoots multiple times, often running distances of 100 to 600 meters during each practice run, until our scores were consistent enough to meet the standard. The goal was simple: hit your target, consistently, every time. Miss one shot, and it could mean the difference between selection and elimination.

We also became super nerds about everything. We learned the science behind every shot, physics, ballistics, bullet trajectory, muzzle velocity, grain, gunpowder; every detail mattered. Evenings were often spent analyzing the operation of weapons, differences between striker-fired and hammer-fired systems, gas-operated versus buffer systems, and any factors that could impact performance. Knowledge wasn’t just power; it directly improved our consistency and scores.

After the range, we ran, we lifted, and we practiced with simulators. We logged every detail in notebooks. We even used VR headsets to rehearse. Our evenings were filled with analysis, YouTube research, and dry-fire practice. The grind never stopped; it wasn’t optional. Some days, we finished by noon and returned to camp early. Other days, we stayed late, until 6 p.m. or later, because our scores weren’t high enough or consistent enough, and the drills had to be repeated until we met the standard. Missing your standard wasn’t tolerated; the team repeated drills until the boss was satisfied.

Training Smart, Not Just Hard

Despite the intensity, we knew how to switch it up intelligently. Even evening sessions could serve as “rest mode” still training, but in ways that reduced fatigue while maintaining focus. Dry-fire, VR, strength and conditioning, and mental rehearsal allowed us to stay sharp without burning out. Optimizing each session was just as important as sheer volume.

The Pressure Within the Team

Within the platoon, there was no room for dead weight. You had to perform, and you had to be likable. Popularity and respect often went hand in hand with skill. The internal competitiveness was extreme because privileges and rewards were tangible. Representing the unit and regiment came with perks, including trips to Australia, the US, and Canada, visits to weapon factories, and even fun days like go-karting, as well as extended time off or visits to theme parks.

One particularly prestigious experience was attending the Carpenters’ Dinner at their London hall for the Rifles’ Chosen Man Dinner. It’s a whole other world, something you won’t find anywhere the way it exists in the UK. The rooms are steeped in history, lined with paintings, and every detail reflects centuries of tradition. Table manners are essential, with ten different pieces of cutlery laid out, wine served from huge crystal decanters to match each course, and food prepared to the highest standard. Being there, you’re sharing a room with some of the most influential and wealthy figures in London, and sometimes even the world. The Carpenters’ Company itself is one of the historic Livery Companies of the City of London, dating back to medieval times. While their role is mainly ceremonial and charitable today, their halls remain among the most prestigious in the city. Being invited to the Rifles’ Chosen Man Dinner connects you to a centuries-old legacy, blending military excellence with the tradition and pageantry of London’s historic institutions.

But these privileges weren’t given freely; they were earned through discipline, results, and consistent excellence. Mistakes or lapses could cost you through the platoon fines system, but the money collected is used to fund team nights out, creating a culture of accountability mixed with reward. When you worked hard, the play was incredible. Weeks disappeared in intense focus, yet the payoff, recognition from commanders, prestigious dinners, or a team trip abroad, made every long day worth it.

Weigh the Costs Before You Go All In

Before you throw yourself entirely into your chosen sport or hobby, it’s crucial to weigh the costs. A lot of people at the top will tell you it’s all about working and grinding, but that’s something they can do because the rewards justify it. For most people, especially those not competing in professional sports with salaries, protections, or career benefits, the sacrifices need to be approached strategically.

The difference in the military is clear. Shooting wasn’t just a sport; it was my job. I was paid, my sacrifices were rewarded, and my family benefited as a result. That’s why the “all-in” mindset works in the military: a split focus could cost lives, not just medals. Civilian sports rarely come with that same built-in justification, which is why balance is crucial if you want to excel without compromising the essential things in life.

Certain professional sports mirror the military in rewards; NFL players, top rugby pros, and elite athletes are all “all-in” because their families, careers, and futures depend on it. However, for most hobbies, the reward is small, such as a local trophy, a personal best, or a weekend meet. The grind is just as exhausting, but without tangible returns, burnout is inevitable. Missed time with friends and family can’t be reclaimed. Injuries don’t come with protection or support. Pride can only carry you so far.

For me, this reality was part of the reason I eventually stepped away from the role. I wanted to start a family and provide a different upbringing than the one I experienced as a military child. Knowing full well it would be difficult to do both well, I chose to prioritize family life rather than risk my child growing up the same way I did, immersed in relentless work and sacrifice at the expense of other important experiences.

The Parallel With Other Elite Performers

This mirrors what you see in other elite domains:

• Olympic shooters spend hours every day in near-complete repetition, logging every shot and using data to refine tiny adjustments.
  
  

• Military snipers globally recognize that success is 90% preparation and 10% execution—the work behind the scenes defines your results.
  
  

• Professional athletes, whether rugby players, sprinters, or footballers, endure long training camps, high-intensity practice, and relentless competition to reach the top.
  
  

In every case, the difference between winning and losing is marginal, and only obsessive consistency carries you through. Some sports or hobbies allow greatness without extreme sacrifice, but in most, you must find that extra inch that most people aren’t willing to give. The key is knowing when the sacrifice is worth it.

The Takeaway

To reach the top, you have to live the pursuit of excellence every single day. Every bullet fired, every step run, every rep, every hour of analysis counts. Elite competition isn’t a moment; it’s a lifestyle, a test of endurance, discipline, and mental toughness.

But here’s the critical lesson: the sacrifices that make sense in the military or professional sport don’t always make sense in civilian life. If the reward doesn’t outweigh the cost, burnout is inevitable. Know what you’re giving, what you’re getting back, and whether it’s worth it.

When you finally step into the spotlight, whether at Bisley or on a local platform, you’ll realize the real victory isn’t just the medal. It’s pursuing excellence without losing yourself, your loved ones, or your life along the way.

Because at the top, it’s never about luck. It’s about discipline, balance, and the wisdom to know when the grind is worth it.

You don’t have to train like a soldier or a pro athlete to get results, but you do need structure and accountability. That’s where we come in. If you’re serious about reaching your goals without sacrificing the things that matter most, schedule a call with me or one of our coaches at www.masterathletic.com.

Nat Galloway

Coach, Master Athletic Performance