Don't worry, you're not falling behind by resting

I'm writing this from Taiwan.

I came here for a week to slow down and rest before I fly back to Canada and lock in the final stretch of prep for my first HYROX.

That is the plan anyway.

Last month, I didn't have much opportunity to rest.

I pushed my training volume and intensity up for the race.
I put out more content than I have in a long time, right as my creativity came back.
And I landed my first inbound brand deal — a smart ring health tracker called Ultrahuman — which means there's a pile of work waiting for me the second I'm home.

Which also means more stress.

And my girlfriend noticed it before I did. She looked at me last week and asked if I was okay.

She could see I was stressed, buried in building my personal brand and training for my first HYROX at the same time, and she wanted to know if I was actually doing alright.

It wasn't the first time she's worried about me.

She's watched me change over the last few years.

My mindset, my values, the things I'm interested in, the way I carry myself.

And every so often, the person I'm turning into concerns her.

So I tried to explain it to her the best I could.

The closest I can get to it is this.

It's the pursuit of greatness; the goal of becoming the best at what you do, or at the very least, the best version of yourself you're capable of being.

And chasing it comes with a price.

Health.
Money.
Relationships.
Time.
Energy.

In truth, I don't really know how to rest.

I'm either training or I'm working. And on the days I actually have the time to relax and do something fun, I can't fully be there, because I’m busy asking whether any of it is moving my life forward.

Even the fun gets measured.
“Is this taking me where I want to go?”

But maybe I’ve been asking the wrong question this whole time.

One thing I'm actively working on is admitting when I’m wrong.

Somewhere in the last decade, self-improvement turned into an entire industry, and it only ever had one answer.

Whatever's wrong, the fix is more. Work harder. Wake up earlier. Want it more than the next guy.

Like every problem in your life is just a discipline problem you haven't out-worked yet.

I measured myself by how much I could pack into a day, and how little I let myself stop.

And yeah, I know how this sounds coming from a guy who makes content about getting better. I might be the example, but here is the part where I’ll admit I was wrong:

Rest was never the opposite of the pursuit. It's part of it.

And I should have known, because I train.

You don't get stronger during the workout.

The actual growth, the part where your body adapts and comes back better, happens while you're resting.

I'd been treating my whole life like one endless workout, then wondering why I felt worn down in the middle of the exact life I fought so hard to build.

The ambition was never the problem. The lie was believing ambition alone was the whole answer.

1. Stop waiting until you've earned it.

The ambitious trap is telling yourself you'll rest once you've done enough. That day never comes, because the bar moves every time you get close to it. You don't rest because you've earned it. You rest so there's still someone left to do the work tomorrow.

2. Actually leave.

You can't rest ten feet from your laptop with all the tabs still open. So change the setting instead of relying on discipline. It's putting the work somewhere you can't reach it for a while.

3. Make sure it's actual rest.

Scrolling isn't rest. Real rest is the stuff that lets your head go quiet. Moving your body with no metric attached to it. Time with people who aren't a means to anything. Being bored long enough that your brain finally settles.

4. Treat recovery like it's part of the work.

If rest feels like betraying the goal, you'll never actually take it. Put it on the calendar with the same respect you give a deadline. Protect it the way you protect a training session. Rest isn't time away from the thing you're chasing. It's the part of the chase that keeps you in it long enough to get there.

I'm not writing this as someone who figured it out. I'm writing it from the exact trip where I said I’d slow it down, but spending part of my rest week typing this out and already thinking about the work waiting back home.

But I've at least worked out what the guilt actually is.

The fear of falling behind.

When I try to rest and there’s a quiet guilt like I'm doing something wrong.

It was never really about the rest.

It’s the fear that the moment I slow down, everyone else keeps moving and I get left behind.

So let me say the thing I've had to keep telling myself all week.

You are not falling behind by resting.

It's the same as the training.

The guy who never takes a rest day doesn't pull ahead of the one who does. He breaks down, and ends up on the sidelines watching everybody else keep going.

Falling behind isn't what happens when you stop for a moment. It's what happens when you refuse to, until your body or your mind stops you for a lot longer than a moment.

And behind who, anyway?

There's no starting gun. No shared finish line.
The race you're scared of losing is one you drew up yourself, and every person you're measuring against drew up their own.

So when she asks if I'm okay, the most honest answer is that I'm learning to be. That slowing down isn't me losing the drive. It's me making sure the drive gets to last.

You can want to be great and still be someone who rests.

And if you've been running the way I have, treating every quiet moment like something you're stealing from your future, take this as the reminder that it’s okay to slow down for a bit.

Have a great week,

— Chun