Earlish in my career, I can remember having a conversation with one of my bosses that, to this day, still rings as an essential reminder in my mind.
I felt uncharacteristically “off focus” and didn’t feel like I was having my most productive day. Strangely enough, I confessed this to her, and her response floored me. It was something along the lines of:
“You’re going to have days where you’re going to give 110%, and then you’ll have days where you only have 75%. That’s to be expected - you’re a human, not a machine.”
I’m sure she gave me the grace to chill out because I had just come off the back of leading and delivering a huge project. It required long hours and, honestly, a lot of brainpower. But we were through it, and realistically, I was just tired.
At the time, this was the ultimate permission slip, and exactly what I needed to recoup.
Looking back, I now realize it was a crucial lesson in how human energy actually works.
I see this in my clients to this day, and it comes up frequently enough to deserve a discussion.
Most of us expect, albeit unconsciously, a flat-line output from ourselves. If we’re a high-level producer, we expect to always be able to run full tilt, at 110% of our capacity. And then we get frustrated when we feel slow, not energized, or lethargic. Dare I say - unproductive.
But the dip in our performance isn’t actually a problem; it’s simply part of our design. It is the predictable other half of the push or sprint.
Last week, in a coaching conversation, I reached for the metaphor of the ocean… it gathers all that energy and momentum to reach an ultimate peak moment, and then it naturally has to retreat to regather. It’s a natural ebb and flow. Why would we think we’re any different?
So how can we work differently? Rather than unconsciously worshipping productivity at all costs, how can we allow ourselves to work sustainably instead?
It takes self-awareness and a willingness to recognize the wider patterns in our workload rather than taking it one day at a time. And then, of course, it takes putting yourself and regeneration on your calendar, and giving yourself the permission to do so.
Recognize that if there is a sprint, there will need to be a recovery. Simply put:
Own the Push Season: Every client I work with has projects, deliverables, or weeks that require more from them. Perhaps it is more travel, a special project, or the Board presentation. These are the moments when you have to dig deep and find that 110%+ performance version of you. That alone won’t hurt you, and we all have that overdrive mode. When you need it, I’m all for finding and activating that “boost” button to get it done.
Plan the Regeneration: Where things go bad when you don’t plan for it, or give yourself permission to regenerate. What does it look like to actively plan for a slow week after a push? And to prioritize regeneration of your energy, scheduling it even, to ensure you’re rebuilding?
This is where sustainability becomes essential. The risk that I see in my clients during a boost season- those moments of giving 110%- is thinking that this is the baseline and somehow internalizing your peak performance as your normal performance.
Then you unconsciously just keep overscheduling yourself, giving little or no space on the backend of deliverables to regroup, and then berate yourself for not feeling like you’re functioning at your normal levels.
The reframe is: You’re not supposed to work like a machine. You’re a human. You need to recharge and regenerate to be able to reach for your peak performance in the moments that matter most.
I heard a conversation recently that brought this point home: What happens if we actually consider our body as something to take care of? In fact, what if it is our responsibility to take care of it?
Author Liz Gilbert highlights this point: our bodies aren’t just machines designed to carry our heads around from place to place. They’re a living system that need love and care. She captures this idea in a piece she wrote years ago, framing caring for our bodies as a responsibility, just like caring for an animal.
I encourage you to look at your next 90 days and find the moments that will require you to dig deep.
Where are your sprint weeks?
Protect the recovery now. Block your calendar before anyone else can eat it up. Schedule a massage if that works for you, or find a day to work from home. Whatever “recovery” means to you, give yourself permission now to schedule for it.
I’m so glad I internalized my leader's wisdom early in my career. Her words left an indelible imprint on the way I view my own performance.
This is the invitation to give yourself that same permission slip.
And, through your own actions, perhaps you can also be the leader who will pass this essential lesson on to those you lead.
Hi, I’m Kate Snowise - an executive coach, leadership advisor, and speaker. I’m a trained I/O psychologist, bringing together business and psychology in this Substack, Leadership Lately. I write practical thoughts for leaders who want to lead better on a real-life Tuesday, not a theoretical one. I live in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area, with my husband, two boys, and a pack of pups I adore. You can find out more about me and my work at katesnowise.com.
If this idea of Human Sustainability is resonating, you might also enjoy reading this post:
Human Sustainability: Setting Ourselves Up for Ongoing Success
I recently had a client change jobs. New organization, bigger role, and a bunch more responsibility.
Kate, your point that a sprint needs recovery gives people permission to treat energy as human, not infinite. That permission becomes real when the team plans around it: if one person’s recovery day means work simply piles up or gets handed to a colleague, the system has not recovered, it has shifted the strain.
Leaders can protect the pause by adjusting deadlines, coverage, and expectations before the sprint begins. Your story shows how one manager’s words can shape someone’s relationship with work for years. Thank you for making that lesson practical.