I just finished my second of back-to-back readings of the book, “10x Is Easier Than 2x,” by Benjamin Hardy and Dan Sullivan.



The book is about how we can make the big leaps in our lives and careers, and why said big leaps take less time and energy than small, incremental progress.


It’s true.


This is a concept I’ve believed in for a long time and talked about plenty. Hardy (who did most of the writing) and Sullivan (the concepts grow from his wisdom) articulate the concept in a way that I wish I would have done first.


Although 10x is logically easier, most people never get there.


Why?


Because we are emotionally — not logically — attached to “2x” (incremental) behavior.


And you can’t do 10x and 2x at the same time. It’s a binary; you’re doing one or the other.


I’ll be discussing this angle, which I call “The Void,” in episode #2733 of the Work On Your Game MasterClass.


“10x Is Easier Than 2x” is not for everyone. It’s a concept for the person who’s in the right season of life to receive and apply it. I found this book at the perfect time, as I’m ready for the change that the authors lay out.


As such, over the last couple of weeks I’ve been working on and implementing things that have dawned on me from the 10x book.


Though it’s written for entrepreneurs, the concepts apply to personal life the same as they do to work life.


Personal case in point…



On my Saturday morning run, 7 miles across the Venetian Causeway to Miami Beach and back, reality slapped me in the face re: my body.


I've had a left Achilles issue for a few months now. One day after a run a month or two ago, my left heel was so sore I could barely walk. I took two weeks off for it to get better.


That did NOT work.


It’s still sore, but not getting worse. So I’d conditioned myself to deal with the discomfort, push through it and run anyway. I enjoy running enough to do this.


This past Saturday, I was back at it as usual. I’d been getting my conditioning back despite the Achilles issue, and was 7-10 days away from hitting my “game shape” running pace.


Then, about halfway through my run… my right hamstring tightened up.


Hard.


Hamstring injuries are not like, say, knee soreness. Knee issues build up slowly, over the course of weeks. A small tweak here, then a little pain there, then it gets worse.


Hamstring injuries happen suddenly. One minute you’re coasting at a 7-minute-per-mile pace, and then — BOOM — you can’t take another step.


I’ve experienced this before. In fact, my right hamstring has not quite gotten back to 100% from the last time it gave me problems 6 months ago. As with my Achilles, I’d adjusted and learned to run through it. I enjoy running so much that I don’t like taking time off.


There was no running through this, though.


On the slow, quiet 2.5-mile (and 45-minute) walk home Saturday, I contemplated what all of this means. And, the thing I have to do that I really don’t want to do.


I have to shut myself down.


Not forever. But for at least two months.


That means missing two 10K races that I’ve already registered for.


One, in Key Biscayne in November, I’ve finished 3rd and 2nd the last two years, respectively. This year was my 1st place year.


Maybe next year.


The other, in Fort Lauderdale in early January, is a new one for me. I might be back running by then, but won’t be close to game shape after two full months off. And I don’t enter races to participate. I enter to win.


So that’s off.


As I said, every time this happens, I figure out how to compensate for what hurts, adjust my approach, and keep my normal schedule.


But the 10x book concepts are fresh in my mind.


I won’t keep doing what I’d normally do, pushing myself to keep going at ~70-80% capacity.


No human body gets damaged from an activity, then gets better while you continue to do the same activity that damaged it. That doesn’t happen (unless you're under age 25). But I’d been behaving as if that were true, because 80% of my full capacity is still good enough to win medals.


Again, to be transparent: I DON'T want to do this.


Under normal circumstances, I’d ice the hamstring, hit it with the massage gun and be back outside in 48 hours. I’d be figuring out how to compensate for the hamstring + the Achilles and still be on the winner’s podium after my next race.


But I can't keep doing this.
Actually, I can keep doing it — I shouldn’t keep doing it.


Better to sacrifice the 2x me to get to the 10x level: Fully healthy and moving with no complications.


There is good news here.


Without running, I’ll have more time — which I can redirect to business things.


I have some books that need to be read and / or finished.


Some projects set to begin next year that I will get to now.


An email inbox that I prefer to keep at Zero which is currently… not at Zero.


I was reconstructing all of this in my mind while walking home across the Venetian. This is more of a mental challenge than a skill challenge.


I recall the New York Yankees baseball team of the 1990s.


The Yankees were under the leadership of their owner, George Steinbrenner (who had the best nickname ever: “The Boss”). Steinbrenner was ruthless and demanding. He was the “win a championship or heads will roll” type who traded players and fired executives with a swift sword when he didn't like what he was seeing.


Steinbrenner was the type of decision maker who was always in, as we say in sports, “win now mode.” This often meant the short-sighted reactivness of trading promising young players for established veterans; mortgaging the future for the present. That meant shorter timelines for future Yankee success and always having to go find new players as the acquired vets aged out sooner.


Steinbrenner was suspended by Major League Baseball in the early 1990s for rules violations. One stipulation of his suspension was, although he still owned the team, Steinbrenner wasn’t allowed to engage in any management decisions whatsoever.


Yankees management seized on that opportunity. They could finally do what they hadn't been able to under The Boss’ demanding eye. They patiently grew in-house talent.


Instead of trading away young prospects for win-now vets, the Yankees held onto and developed those players.


Those young players — Bernie Williams, Jorge Posada, Mariano Rivera and Derek Jeter — became the foundation of a baseball dynasty that won four World Series titles in 5 years between 1996-2000.


Here’s the key: On the quest to be our best, the hardest thing is letting go of our less-than-best habits.


Less-than-best doesn't mean “bad.” Often, these habits produce pretty good results. I could make it work at 80% of my physical capacity.


But “pretty good” ≠ “your best.”


Even while mentally reconstructing what my next 8-10 weeks will look like, my mind kept fighting back.


Boring treadmill walking!
Don’t rest, just push through the pain!

Ice and massage gun — I can be back by Tuesday!



But the real discomfort — of breaking the habits that got me here — is what I really need.


Dropping the 80% behaviors that make room for more of the top 20% outcomes.


It sounds easy, right? But most of us never do this.


Habits are HARD to break.


The main reason we don’t advance much past where we are is not because of a lack of knowledge, resources, or ability.


It’s because we can’t stop doing most of the stuff that got us here.


You can’t get “there” by doing the same things that got you “here.”


To make BIG advances, you must be ruthless with your romanticized past. Ruthless with your old actions and with what used to / has worked for you. You must have zero nostalgia about the habits that served you last year.


Oh, sure — it CAN work again.


But that’s a formula for staying the same. And it’s a thought that you must be vigilant about.


The point is, you don’t want it to work again. You want to do better than have it “work.”


If you KNOW you have some “good enough” (or worse) habits that need to be broken, replaced and shut down NOW, schedule a free call and let us show you how we can help.


Click here: http://www.WorkOnYourGame.net/apply