Construction Advice: Fall Down Seven Times, Get Up Eight Unless You’ve Pulled Something

Mike Honcho
Aug 24
4 min read

Advice

0:00

Let’s face it—construction workers are a different breed. You wake up before the sun, wrestle concrete into submission, and can do math in your head faster than most college graduates with a calculator. You’re out there in 103° heat, 12° frost, and just enough rain to make everything slippery but not enough to cancel the job. If the world ends tomorrow, chances are you’d show up at 6:58 AM anyway, toolbelt on, wondering who brought donuts.

But even the toughest ironworker, operator, framer, or pipe layer has those days when life just hits like a steel beam on a windy Tuesday.

That’s where today’s life-changing, deeply philosophical advice comes in:

“Fall down seven times, get up eight—unless you’ve pulled something. Then maybe ice it first.”

Yes. It’s inspirational. It’s honest. And it knows you’re over 35 with a bad knee.

Let’s unpack this for the modern tradesman trying to survive work, weather, and the occasional supervisor who thinks your name is “Hey you.”

1. Fall Down Seven Times, Get Up Eight

This is the rally cry of the working class, the unsung warriors of rebar and steel toe boots. It’s basically the construction version of “Keep going, even when life sucks and your lunch got stolen again.”

Falling isn’t failure—it’s just gravity, poor footing, or maybe that one guy who forgot to put out the “wet concrete” sign. The point is: we’ve all had setbacks.

You’ve measured once and cut twice.
You’ve had to rip out a wall you just built because the inspector “felt something was off.”
You’ve dealt with a guy named Doug who always “forgets” his gloves and ends up using yours.

You get back up. You brush the dust off your jeans (or high-vis hoodie), wipe your brow with a shop towel that smells like regret, and keep swinging that hammer.

2. Unless You’ve Pulled Something

Now here’s where realism kicks in. You’re not 21 anymore. At some point in your career, you sneeze too hard and throw out your back. Or you lift one too many bags of mortar and suddenly your spine files a worker’s comp claim.

And that’s okay. Getting up is noble—but doing it while screaming in pain because your hamstring just turned into linguini? That’s called pride-based medical negligence.

So yeah, fall down seven times, but if the eighth time feels like someone lit your shoulder on fire with a drywall torch—maybe just sit on the cooler for a minute and ice that sucker. Ask the apprentice to go get you a cold pack, or if he’s useless (which he is), grab a Mountain Dew and use that.

Pro tip: ice packs double as forehead coolers and makeshift beer holders at 4:01 PM.

3. Know When to Get Up—and When to Call Your Chiropractor

There’s a fine line between grit and being an idiot. Real toughness isn’t pretending you’re fine while limping across the job site like a pirate with gout. It’s being smart enough to say, “Yeah, I’m tough. But I’d also like to walk upright when I’m 60.”

Here’s what getting up “smart” looks like:

You stretch before lifting (even if everyone makes fun of you).
You actually use the hoist instead of “just tossing it up there real quick.”
You hydrate, because you can’t pour concrete if you pass out face-first into it.

Being the guy who “never slows down” is cool—until your spine looks like a Jenga tower in an earthquake. Then you’re just a cautionary tale with an Instagram post that says “Prayers up for Big Mike.”

4. Mentally Fall Down, Too

Let’s not forget that “falling down” doesn’t always mean busting your tailbone in a porta-potty incident. Sometimes it’s mental. The job’s dragging, the GC’s behind schedule, someone just stole your Milwaukee impact gun (again), and you’re questioning all your life choices, including the one where you thought drywalling was “kind of fun.”

Mental falls happen. We all hit the wall, and not just the one we framed. That’s why we say: get up again. Even if that means taking a weekend off. Even if it means you fake an injury so your wife stops making you build her a pergola.

Recharge. Regroup. Then come back ready to accidentally hit your thumb with a hammer like a professional.

5. Pass the Wisdom Down

If you’re the old bull on the site, don’t just grunt and keep secrets. Let the young guys know:

“Kid, fall down seven times, get up eight… unless you pull something. Then lie about it, limp to your truck, and cry in the cab like a man.”

Construction Advice: Tell ‘em what you’ve learned. About tools, and life. About eating gas station taquitos after the job, not before. About never trusting a man who borrows your tape measure and doesn’t give it back.

Teach them the trade, the pride, and the pain. Teach them to get up—ice pack in hand, dignity somewhat intact.