As a teenager, I spent my summers on the road, marching with a drum and bugle corps from Memorial Day weekend through the middle of August. For those who aren’t familiar with drum corps (and I’ll assume you’re not), it’s like a marching band, but incomparably better than all but the best high school and college programs in the country. Call it a “professional marching band,” if you will.

The hours of rehearsal and travel were ridiculous, a true grind in every sense of the word. You’d ride all night on a bus, get a couple hours of sleep on a gym floor somewhere, practice all day, perform in a show that night…and then get on the bus and do it again. For two months, this was my life, day after day, striving to be the best we could, competing against other corps from across the country.

The friendships and bonds formed, not only with people from your corps, but the others you’re competing against, are incredibly strong. I was never in the service, but I talk about my old corps friends the way my father talks about his Army buddies. I can go months without thinking of people I knew from high school or college, but not a day goes by when something doesn’t remind me of those teenage summers. Indeed, I have better, “…this one time…at band camp…” stories than anyone you know.

Thanks to modern technology and social networking, I’ve been reunited with dozens of my old compatriots in the last couple of years. We celebrate the performers of today, and talk about the good old days. An old drum corps friend recently posted a question: “What did you learn from all of it?” And I thought about the answer for a long time before responding:

If you love what you do, and love the people you do it with, you will wake up every morning with a smile on your face and never feel like you’ve worked a day in your life.

Our goal as people should be to try and direct our lives toward this mission. Most of the time, our responsibilities make this a dauntingly difficult task. I like my job, but it isn’t perfect and sometimes the people there make me nuts. I like the volunteer work I do with my kids, but the lack of direction and help I get from other parents is a huge turnoff. This morning, I slept in an extra hour because I didn’t feel like getting out of bed to face the world, but I had to, because I have to earn a living to support my family and keep my household in order.

The vast majority of people have little ability to both live their lives and try to live up to this mission; we simply don’t have enough control. When it comes to poker, however, we have perfect control. For the professional, it should be fairly straightforward…and for the sake of argument, “professional” means someone who plays for expected income, the broadest possible use of the word. I’m expanding the term so I can include myself as a professional, or at least, I was from 2005 to 2008.

Almost everyone good enough at poker to be predictably profitable loves the game enough to devote the time to constantly be improving and evolving. Our poker love starts out as a very positive thing: we’re attracted to the challenge, the thrill of out-thinking our opponents, the adrenaline rush of outlasting a huge field to win a tournament. Doyle Brunson has written about getting a little charge every time the cards are dealt, because you don’t know what’s going to happen next. That’s a wonderful thing.

Most professional poker players love the game so much they can’t imagine another way to live, at least when they start out. The truly successful, like Mr. Brunson, never lose it. PocketFiver Wade soggyvag2 Woelfel's Facebook bio says, “I love poker more than most people could even understand.” To make the commitment it takes to play for a living, you have to feel like he does. But in his mind, I’m sure poker isn’t work, the way my job is work.

Almost every pro, especially the online ones, also have a good set of friends going through the journey with them. A crew to help analyze your game, understands your lifestyle, and serves as a shrink when you need one, is incredibly valuable. To an outsider, it seems a little strange people who have never met in person can have as close a relationship as many online pros do. But it works for them, and is a necessary part of living life according to the mission as well as being the best poker players they can be.

Sometimes, the positive aspect of loving the game gets replaced by a negative obsession. If you’re a successful player, time equals money. The more time you spend playing, the more you make…as long as you’re winning. But if you burn out on the game, and your edge is gone, a poker table is the last place you should be. And yet, there are plenty of people fitting that description in every card room. They don’t want to be there, and shouldn’t be because they aren’t playing their best – but their money is in play anyway.

Much has been said about taking a break to bust a losing streak. I partially agree with this advice, depending on why you’re having problems. If your head is on straight, you’re getting your money in the middle in good spots, and just running bad…you don’t need a break. If you’re getting beat because of a leak, and you can fix it with some homework and self-analysis…you don’t need a break.

You need a break if you don’t want to play – period. It’s a phenomenally easy answer, especially for those of us who aren’t pros. I had a stretch recently where I didn’t play for three weeks. Life got in the way, and I had family activities great and small every night. Eventually, I sat down one evening to play, and realized I didn’t care halfway through my first couple 27-man SNGs. I wanted to do something else, so I stopped registering for new games and closed out PokerStars when my two games were done. The feeling was incredibly liberating, and I’m happy I knew the right thing to do for my sanity.

I started playing again when I knew why I loved the game, and missed being part of the poker society (whatever that means). The pros may have to work at this from time to time, but it should always be at the forefront of their minds, and maybe in a Facebook bio. If you’re not wired that way, don’t even think about turning pro.

The rest of us may need a bit of a boost, or maybe a huge lift, back to that place where we play because we love it. Back to the best place to be.