
Some years ago (many years ago at this point, actually), my closest childhood friend hiked the Appalachian Trail with his wife. From Maine to Georgia—they hiked all 2,198 miles. Mel and I met them at the southern terminus—Springer Mountain in Georgia—to celebrate with sweaty hugs and a glass of champagne.
As we listened to their stories of adventure, one jumped out. It seemed like a non-story at first, but has proven to be trajectory-shifting for me, for my family, and (as you are soon to find out) for you as well.
After days of hiking 25 miles per day, sleeping on the ground, and lacking every basic amenity, trail wisdom on the Appalachian Trail calls for a Zero Day. What exactly is a Zero Day you ask? It is this—the hiker leaves the trail, heads to one of the many little towns that follow the AT and they sleep in a real bed, take a shower (hopefully, they shower before sleeping), drink a beer, eat a greasy pizza, and reconnect with civilization for a day.
A Zero Day means hiking zero miles for the AT hiker. It is an intentional and proactive period of not producing amidst a ginormous challenge of hiking the whole AT. According to my friend, it was the only way he and his wife could have successfully completed their trek.
Huh, I thought (puzzling and puzzling like the Grinch on the top of Mount Crumpet).
We need this in our workplaces. I need this in my life.
So often, we reverse this rhythm. We grind and grind until we break or burn out. Then we stop just long enough to repair. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. And then we die (sorry to be so grim).
The real work, the hard work, is to be willing to pause, which forces us to reckon with the reality that we are not the sum of what we produce. We are more. And it’s ok to stop. For a bit.
Let’s practice together.
Ever Onward,
Jamin & Mel