The productivity principle that works like a cheat code for doing hard stuff
A multi-part post inspired by one of the deadliest females on planet earth.
I am a sweaty, heaving, mess.
There’s more sweat pouring off me than an 80s Colombian Salsa singer.
My lungs feel like they're gonna combust!
My calves started to ache about a kilometre-and-a-half-ago then I stopped being able to feel them.
Bad, bad, not good.
I’m concentrating on resisting the increasing urge to open my mouth - one of those little victories you try to hold onto when everything else feels like it’s going to shit.
Plus: nobody likes a mouth breather, even when they’re gassing, and it’s bad for you.
I don’t remember this route being such a bastard.
The evening prior I’d been celebrating with my brother at a Tiki themed bar in the CBD…
We joined forces during Happy Hour - when the tropical themed libations are discounted in Melbourne, Australia; you drink them, en masse.
Not regularly one to get ‘stuck in on a school night’ (this decade); I’d made an exception in celebration of having successfully delivered my flagship Effective Goal Setting for Stressed-out Start-up Founders workshop, to a live audience - when you’ve wrestled with your ideas and experiences to the point where you can effectively deliver them to a live audience and they don’t throw rocks at you, you celebrate.
Early-stage start-up founders, especially those with a side-hustle, do not have time to waste and they’re not shy of making it clear if you’re the culprit.
That night felt like another small stream crossing on a journey to ‘destination somewhere epic’ had been successfully navigated. I was eager to continue riding the good-feels wave for a little longer, knowing full-well it wouldn’t be long until the next major challenge came into view and I’d be grinding again…
There’s a fork in this particular running route that will circumvent a bluestone staircase: around 30 m of altitude gained in 5 m latitude.
The Bastard Stairs.
On this occasion it would be so easy to choose the chill path; a gentle incline spread out over about 800 m. Just what my tequila-enriched-salts-deplenished carcass desires most…
I attack The Bastard without a second thought, increasing my tempo and leaning into the pain.
Why?
Stay tuned for the next episode where I’ll dive into the guiding principle and how I learned it from one of the scariest/deadliest females (nasal) breathing.
Be your EPIC
- Michael (Mike) Drohan
We out. 🙇