Why I Stopped Chasing Constant Improvement (Sometimes Less Is More)
I spent the past 12 weeks grinding out a strength training program that challenged me to lift heavier and more consistently. Over the past three months, I’ve seen significant gains in all of my lifts, as well as noticeable physical changes.
Yet, as I approached the final week of the program, I noticed a familiar tension in my stomach.
I thought about the next twelve weeks. How I had intended on restarting the program with heavier weights to achieve more. With the momentum I was building, I wondered what I could achieve by the end of the next cycle.
That’s what was troubling me. The more.
I sat back and thought about why I felt the inclination to keep going, despite my hesitation.
The truth was that I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep lifting heavy. Sure, I enjoyed setting tangible goals and reaching them. But I wasn’t confident that I even liked heavy lifting that much.
Even still, there was a nagging voice in my head that sounded something like this: If you stop, or if you go backward, you’re undoing the progress you made. If you can’t improve, then what are you even doing? You’re going to lose all your progress. If you’re not getting “better every day,” then you’re going backward.
I recognized this voice not as my own, but as my self-critic, shaped by years of self-help messaging and motivational culture, or at least my interpretation of it.
When “Always Improving” Becomes a Trap
There’s a common message we’re fed in the self-improvement world: improve a little more each day, and you’ll achieve great things. The logic goes that if you remain the same over time, you’re effectively declining.
This can be amazing advice if applied correctly. For example, I love the idea of doing one thing each day that moves you toward a goal. Or learning something new every day. We should strive to be a little better than the day before.
But it’s not that simple. And this advice can become quietly dangerous because it ignores the fact that progress is rarely a straight line.
For many people, particularly perfectionists, we’re taught to believe that if we’re not constantly improving, we’re getting worse.
For me, this flawed logic has shown up in pernicious ways. I tend to latch onto the idea of constant improvement to the point where I a) strip the joy out of what I’m doing, and b) continue down paths I otherwise wouldn’t, purely because the idea of getting worse feels intolerable.
When Growth Turns Into Identity Pressure
I’ve shared before about my struggles letting go of high-mileage running. I convinced myself that as a runner, improvement only came from momentum. Adding miles, never subtracting. As if running less meant undoing everything I’d built. Not just getting worse at running, but worse at life. As if a hobby were a referendum on my worth.
What if more doesn’t always mean better? What if improvement means shifting rather than climbing a single, upward path? What if we thought about progress more dynamically?
Sometimes, less or simply different is what actually moves us forward.
Redefining Progress
Tomorrow is the final day of my twelve-week plan. Instead of restarting and adding weight, I’m scaling back. I’m choosing a different program with different goalposts and techniques. It won’t be as weight-focused, and I may even lose some strength.
What I anticipate, is that I’ll progress in other ways. I’m looking to gain more toned muscle, rather than raw strength. This means letting go to achieve something else. Thus, the progress and goals I set for myself have changed.
Choosing a Different Definition of Progress
Life isn’t linear, and neither is progress. Anyone who insists you must always be improving is oversimplifying something deeply human.
For me, scaling back doesn’t mean I’ll invest less time lifting. It means I’ll lift differently. Different doesn’t mean less. It doesn’t mean more.
This shift is progress. Progress toward a life that isn’t governed by the endless chase for more.
Next week, I’m choosing to do less and see how far it takes me.
