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When Progress Stops Looking Impressive
There was a season in my life (one that still shows up sometimes) when I tracked almost everything. Miles run, steps when I wasn’t running, caffeine (so much caffeine), sleep (minimal), weight lifted (mostly not), and hours worked. I always like seeing small progress indicators go up. If I could chart it, I could feel good about it. If I could explain it, I could justify the time I gave it. Graphs don’t lie, after all. Or, at least they give the illusion of forward motion, even if the slope is barely visible.
Some of those metrics did help, at least at first. They nudged me back into healthy habits and served as a kind of accountability when my motivation waned. But somewhere along the way, I stopped using the data as a tool and started using it as proof. Progress wasn’t just something I felt internally; it became something I wanted other people to see.
That shift was subtle and dangerous.
Because the kind of growth that actually matters is rarely dramatic and doesn’t benefit from being on public display. It doesn’t always yield a chart or a milestone. Sometimes, it just lives, right there beneath the surface of your choices. A moment where you let someone else talk without thinking about your reply. A decision to go to bed instead of squeezing in “just one more hour.” A day when your value didn’t feel tethered to your output.
