Last week I wrote about how mood follows action - that feeling ready is usually the reward for starting, not the requirement. This week I want to push on the piece that actually makes that possible day after day: discipline.

Not the drill-sergeant version. The one that shows up on the days the goal doesn't feel exciting anymore. That's the thread running through everything below. Let's get into it -

A few months ago I mentioned falling into the trap of over-optimization - trying to improve every part of my life so relentlessly that I forgot to actually experience it. I've kept sitting with that idea, and I think I finally found the sharper version of it.

Optimization itself was never the problem. It's that most of us optimize for whatever happens to be easiest to measure, not for what we actually value.

Steps are easy to measure, so we optimize steps. Inbox zero is easy to measure, so we optimize inboxes. Pace splits are easy to measure, so we optimize splits. Presence, happiness, mood, connection - the things we'd actually say matter most if you asked us directly - don’t show up as a quantified statistic. So they quietly lose the competition for our attention, not because we don't value them, but because we can't put a number on them as easily.

I was listening to a podcast recently that was discussing this idea, and framed it around career ambitions. It’s so common today to say that we want to make more money. On the surface, that sounds super reasonable. If you’re making $90,000, the goal of making $150,000 sounds great. So you chase the promotion that could align with that salary increase.

But since you are optimizing for money, you are plugging in numbers into a one variable equation. More money = more happiness - right?

But if happiness is actually the end result, and we think the accumulation of the wealth will afford us more access to things that make us happy, why aren’t we solving for that in said equation?

If you get the job making “X” more dollars, but now have to spend 50% more nights on the road and not with your family, no longer have time for the hobbies you enjoy, and have an increased stress-load, was it worth it?

For many situations, it ends up being a yes until you reach a point of financial solvency. But for an equal amount once you reach that level where bills are covered and money isn’t a stress point, it’s a no. There’s a crossing point for us all where the increase in salary counteracts what we are ultimately looking for.

And that's the trap. Optimization isn't inherently bad - it's built plenty of good things in my life. But it needs a target that's actually worth hitting, or it will happily optimize the wrong thing with the exact same intensity as the right thing.

This week's exercise is simple, but don't rush it. Write down the three things you find yourself optimizing for most days right now - the things you check, track, or protect without even thinking about it. Then write down the three things you'd say you value most if someone asked you at dinner.

Look at where those two lists diverge. That gap is usually where discipline is quietly being spent on the wrong things. Closing it doesn't require less discipline. It requires pointing the discipline you already have at something that actually deserves it.

I bring this topic to the newsletter every quarter, because it’s an important one that took me years to ultimately figure out and trust.

For years, nearly every run I did had one goal: go faster than last time. If my pace wasn't improving, I considered the run a failure, and if I felt good early, I'd inevitably speed up just to prove I could hold it.

It took me embarrassingly long to realize that mindset was the exact thing capping my progress.

Zone 2 training is aerobic work done at roughly 60-70% of your max heart rate - a pace conversational enough that you could hold a full conversation without gasping for air. For most people, that's noticeably slower than what feels "worth it." Ironically, that’s the point.

At that intensity, your body is forced to rely primarily on fat as fuel rather than glycogen, and it builds mitochondrial density - the literal cellular machinery that determines how efficiently you produce energy. Push harder than that too often, and you never give your body the stimulus to build that aerobic engine. You just accumulate fatigue that caps how hard you can go on the days that actually call for intensity.

Most recreational runners spend the majority of their miles in a gray zone - too hard to build a real aerobic base, too easy to count as genuine speed work. You get the fatigue of hard training with almost none of the adaptation.

A rough way to estimate your Zone 2 heart rate: subtract your age from 220, then take 60-70% of that number. It's not perfectly precise, but it's a reasonable starting point if you don't have lab testing available.

The hardest part isn't understanding the science. It's tolerating the ego hit of running slower than you think you should, especially on a nice day when your legs feel good. I still fight that instinct most weeks.

This week's challenge: pick one run and run it 40-50 seconds per mile slower than feels natural, holding a pace where you could comfortably talk the entire time. Don't judge it after mile one - judge how your legs and energy feel three days later. That's usually where the payoff shows up.

Since this week's theme is discipline, it felt right to revisit the books that shaped how I actually think about it. These three sit on different ends of the spectrum, but each earned a permanent spot on my shelf.

Atomic Habits by James Clear
The one most people have already read, and for good reason. And if you haven’t, you start here. Clear's core argument - that habits are a byproduct of identity, not willpower - reframed how I think about change. You don't decide to become a runner and then start running. You start running, and running is how you become a runner.

The War of Art by Steven Pressfield
A short, strange, almost militant little book about "Resistance" - the force Pressfield believes shows up every single time you try to do meaningful work. It's the closest thing I've read to a written version of "mood follows action." Pressfield's answer to Resistance is almost annoyingly simple: show up anyway, especially when you don't want to.

Discipline Equals Freedom by Jocko Willink
The blunt counterpoint to the other two. There's no nuance here, and that's exactly why it works on the mornings when nuance is just another excuse. Sometimes you don't need a framework. You need someone yelling at you to get out of bed.

Different tones, same underlying message: discipline isn't a personality trait some people are lucky enough to have. It's a decision you keep making, in smaller and smaller moments, until it stops feeling like a decision at all.

Looking to figure out where your discipline is actually going each week? Try this prompt:

"You are a behavioral coach who specializes in habit formation and personal accountability. Help me run a discipline audit on my current week.

First, ask me questions about how I currently spend my time, energy, and attention across work, health, relationships, and personal goals.

Then:

Be direct and specific rather than generic - challenge me where it's warranted."

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You are reading The Superset. If this one hit home, forward it to someone who could use the reminder this week.