Why you *shouldn’t* always optimize for peak performance
My friend Ethan is obsessed with peak performance.
Nutrition, sleep, fitness, productivity, energy management, you name it, it’s all being measured, reported and continuously improved.
He owns a Layla Memory Foam mattress that combines the perfectly calibrated gravity, flatness and softness needs of both him and his partner (on different sides of the bed).
He has an Oura ring that measures his heart rate variability, recovery index, activity balance (and a dozen of other data points) and combines all of it into an AI-generated readiness score for the day.
He’s got a weighted blanket and a HEPA filter that further optimize his sleep.
He does his perfectly honed HIIT (High-Intensity Interval Training) and strength workouts at correctly chosen times for his energy flows.
He adds to his morning smoothies protein powder, collagen, dietary fibre and a perfect amount of the latest craze-of-the-day concoction (it’s creatine these days, isn’t it?).
(no, this is not Ethan)
And when he has a bad night of sleep, a bad stomach day, or when family is visiting, dinner goes long and he misses the start of the first of his optimal six sleep cycles, well… he’s pissed.
The truth is, if you aim for peak performance on 100% of your days, you set yourself up for failure and disappointment. It is, in fact, counter-productive to aim to be at full throttle every day, the whole month, 365 (and, sometimes, 366) days a year.
It is satisfying when you have those peak days. When your sleep scored perfectly, and you’re well rested, you ate all the right things, you sit down to get some work done, and you go into flow like a child floating straight into the candy shop.
What an incredible feeling. Which is why it’s so addictive.
But.
Life happens.
On most days.
How do I know?
My friend Ethan is a (real-life) friend I mastermind with.
Metaphorically, she’s also a woman in my CrossFit class, who is currently healing from a few overuse injuries. He is one of my childhood buddies, whom I haven’t seen in a while because he’s in the "4 AM club" now, so he goes to bed at 8 PM which makes it hard to have an evening out.
He is also me. Not every day all day, but he’s also me.
I come from a long line of workaholics and extra-intense individuals that goes back at least 3 generations (the ones further back were probably too busy overachieving to leave a record).
Hustling is my natural state of being. While other people have to work hard at their discipline, I find myself having to work hard at being kind and forgiving to myself.
So I know what it’s like to be Ethan.
Yesterday’s fads/dogmas were the hustle culture and peak performance. Today’s, post-pandemic, is well-being. A mighty good development, if you ask me.
(I previously wrote here about hustling more sustainably, and here about how the pandemic flipped Maslow’s pyramid.)
With that in mind, here’s my proposal.
Let’s optimize for 75% instead of peak 100% on those ”meh” days instead.
Let’s fully accept that many (most?) days won’t be perfect. That our bodies aren’t machines, that they will occasionally act up and give us insomnia, joint pain, a sprain, bruises, utterly sore muscles, stomach bugs and the like, irrespective of our age or fitness level. To expect otherwise might come at the cost of bitter disappointment and frustration with ourselves.
Defaulting to generosity and kindness to ourselves is not only… well, kind. It also means you reduce points of failure, and can potentially increase your performance.
You complete more workouts (numerically) and get fitter by working out consistently, moderately, 3-4 times a week, than by going full out at Crossfit every day for 2 weeks in a row and spending the next month nursing injuries.
It’s much more sustainable to develop good sleep hygiene that accommodates for evenings out that go a tad long, or for nights when your mind just.won’t.shut.up, than expect perfect sleep scores 7/7 nights/week (and get upset when they don’t happen).
It’s infinitely better to meditate or reflect in silence 2-3 times a week on average, than have a 92-day streak, get upset when you missed one and throw out the whole habit.
In the same vein, for those of us who lead teams, it’s futile to expect them to run at full throttle every day of the quarter, all year round. But about that, another time.
So my call to action is:
Reflect on ways in which you’re optimizing for peak performance. Have a look at your new year’s resolutions. At your list of goals. And at your “habit scorecard” if you’re a fan of James Clear’s Atomic Habits.
Put on the auditor lens and ask yourself:
where am I unrealistic?
where am I missing out on life, or grow frustrated with myself because I’m not consistently hitting peak achievement?
how can I allow myself to enjoy the serendipity, relish the cozy family dinner that went long (and ruined my sleep cycles!) but surfaced grandma’s amazing stories from the 1940s I would’ve never otherwise gotten to know?
Go back to the drawing board. Don’t set goals counting on being 100% turned on every day. Set goals for the 50-75% you, optimize for your “meh” and so-so days, instead of your peak days.
And let me know how it goes.
I gtg take a call now, Ethan’s sprained a toe, snapped his perfect workout streak, and is… not happy.
