A one-hour exercise to help you celebrate your biggest wins, identify your biggest opportunities, and dominate the new year.

A one-hour exercise to help you celebrate your biggest wins, identify your biggest opportunities, and dominate the new year.
A one-hour exercise to help you celebrate your biggest wins, identify your biggest opportunities, and dominate the new year.
I spend most of my time planning for the future. With the help of my meditation practice, I’m getting better at living more in the present. But something I still find incredibly difficult is reflecting on the past.
I rarely celebrate achievements for more than a few minutes, and I almost never “look back” on projects or situations to identify what I learned. (And I certainly don’t use that information to guide my future decisions.)
This, as you can imagine, is a problem.
Sometimes being “doomed to repeat” stuff can be a good thing. I think I did a lot of things right this year, and I’d like to continue to do them.
But I also did a lot of stuff wrong.
If we don’t learn from our past, we we won’t be able to identify our biggest opportunities to make life better. Which means we’ll likely suffer through the same situations and thought-patterns again and again.
So this year, I’m continuing with a tradition I started two years ago: a personal retrospective.
(Previous retrospectives: 2015 and 2016.)
A retrospective is when you look back on past events to identify what worked…and what didn’t work. A retrospective helps you celebrate your wins and identify your weaknesses. It helps you learn from the past and correct for the future.
To do a personal retrospective, you simply pick a particular project or time period and ask yourself the following questions:
Then you spend 15-30 minutes writing about each.
To give you an idea of how it’s done—and to encourage you to do the same—I want to share mine with you.
If I had to give 2017 a title, I’d call it “The Year of Remembering What’s Really Important.”
Ever since my friend Kyle died a few years ago in a freak car accident, I’ve become more aware of the fact that I am going to die. This year, I leaned into that scary, awe-inducing feeling and decided to make friends with death.
That way whenever I start to take myself too seriously or get worked up about something stupid, I can put things into perspective and remember that things are, on balance, absolutely amazing.
It’s on the underside of my wrist, usually hidden under my watch strap.
It reminds me that every time I do something it may be the last time I ever get to do it. So I might as well enjoy it.
My mom’s dad died of a heart attack. My grandpa on my dad’s side has had at least two heart attacks. My mom was born with a heart condition and had to have surgery as a baby.
So why the hell have I neglected conditioning (cardio) all my adult life? Beats me. Lifting weights is more fun, I guess.
But this year, with the help of Joel Jamieson and an inexpensive heart rate monitor, I’ve started doing 1-3 weekly conditioning sessions including Concept 2 rower and skierg sprints, trail running, Assault Bike cardiac output, and more.
Turns out I actually enjoy doing conditioning if I have some specific numbers (heart rate zones, etc) to shoot for.
Along with my consulting work I still found time to write 51 newsletters, coach a handful of entrepreneurs, and do a limited release of my new program, The 2-Day Workout Fix.
That feels good.
I started meditating consistently a few years ago and even went so far as to go on a 10-day silent retreat in 2015. The science is in: Meditation can change your brain for the better. (Read more here.)
But I didn’t need double-blind studies to tell me that. I know from personal experience that the more I practice meditation and mindfulness, the happier I am.
Mindfulness may be the ultimate meta skill. Which is why after a year of only practicing 10 minutes per day, I’m going to up the ante in 2018 to 30 minutes per day of sitting meditation (with a daily walking meditation, too).
This skill is so important to me that aside from some monthly discipline challenges (which I’ll write about soon), meditating more is going to be my ONLY focus for 2018.
Sure, I’ll continue to write and work and do all the other stuff that makes up a life. But my daily meditation is the only thing I’ll track.
It may be too early to say, but I fully expect the benefits of increased meditative practice to bleed into the rest of my life.
(If talk of meditation makes you roll your eyes, I encourage you to check out this book. And this one.)
Rationale: I’m already meditating in the morning, so I might as well use that to my advantage and simply extend the practice. On the mornings where I can’t fit that in, I’ll break up the practice into two 15-minute sessions.
Rationale: When I went on the silent retreat a couple years ago, I was surprised by how much I enjoyed walking meditation. But I rarely do it.
Then it hit me: I take my dog for a long walk (or two) every day. What if instead of bringing my phone and listening to a podcast or audio book, I tried doing a walking meditation instead?
So, that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll keep track of my practice in a notebook and try not to break the chain of “X’s”.
So that’s mine. Now it’s your turn.
It’ll take you roughly an hour, but it could be the most important thing you do this year. After all, 2018 is already here.
What are you the most proud of? Where are your biggest growth opportunities?
And the biggest question: What are you going to do about them?
-Nate
A one-hour exercise to help you celebrate your biggest wins, identify your biggest opportunities, and dominate the new year.
I spend most of my time planning for the future. With the help of my meditation practice, I’m getting better at living more in the present. But something I still find incredibly difficult is reflecting on the past.
I rarely celebrate achievements for more than a few minutes, and I almost never “look back” on projects or situations to identify what I learned. (And I certainly don’t use that information to guide my future decisions.)
This, as you can imagine, is a problem.
Sometimes being “doomed to repeat” stuff can be a good thing. I think I did a lot of things right this year, and I’d like to continue to do them.
But I also did a lot of stuff wrong.
If we don’t learn from our past, we we won’t be able to identify our biggest opportunities to make life better. Which means we’ll likely suffer through the same situations and thought-patterns again and again.
So this year, I’m continuing with a new tradition I started last year: a personal retrospective.
(Read my 2015 retrospective here.)
A retrospective is when you look back on past events to identify what worked…and what didn’t work. A retrospective helps you celebrate your wins and identify your weaknesses. It helps you learn from the past and correct for the future.
To do a personal retrospective, you simply pick a particular project or time period and ask yourself the following questions:
Then you spend 15-30 minutes writing about each.
To give you an idea of how it’s done—and to encourage you to do the same—I want to share mine with you.
If I had to give 2016 a title, I’d call it “The year of gaining perspective.”
Traveling like this taught me a few important things:
Click here (or the image above) to download the book for free.
If you read my 2015 retrospective, you’ll notice that Number 1 is a carryover from last year.
Here’s what I said then:
I’ve paid lip-service to flexibility for the past couple of years, half-heartedly following a daily stretching routine. But honestly, I still tend to skip a good part of my warm-up and “forget” to stretch at least half the time.
Because of that, I often wake up tight and sore and often require a hot shower to “loosen up.”
Well, a full year has passed and I’m disappointed to report that not much has changed. Old habits die hard, apparently.
One potential reason for the fuck-up: I gave myself way too many (four) action steps last year. Here’s what I said I’d do at the beginning of last year:
Action step #1: Do my morning mobility and activation warm-up at least 80% of the time. That means I can only miss one day out of the week.
Action step #2: Follow a simple 5-minute mobility, stretching circuit before bed every night.
Action step #3: Set a timer for 60 minutes and do one stretch for one minute for every hour that I work at my computer.
Action step #4: Sit on the ground for at least 10 minutes and play with positions till they become more comfortable.
That’s WAY too much.
After watching thousands of people go through the habit-based coaching programs at Precision Nutrition, I know that most of us can only stick to one new habit at a time. (Sometimes you can get away with two, but it helps to have those habits in different domains—like one for personal and one for professional.)
So this year, even though I have a lot more to work on (trust me) I’m going to narrow my focus to these two things, plus reduce my action steps.
Both of these opportunities—increasing mobility and working on my own projects 50% of the time—will have a significant positive impact in my life. Probably more than any other habit I could adopt.
In other words, if everything else about my life stayed the same and only these two things changed, I’d consider 2017 a huge success.
Rationale: I’m already meditating in the morning, so I might as well use that to my advantage. By linking this new practice (stretching) to my old practice (meditating), I’m more likely to stick to it. And the fact that I’m already wearing sweat pants and sitting on the floor helps.
Also, for someone who loves routines, I hate following rigid programs. That’s why I’m purposefully keeping the stretching and movement portion of this action step vague. My only goal is to set a timer for 20 minutes and do some kind of movement for the entire duration. If I can do that, I’ll consider it a win.
Rationale: The way my schedule is structured right now, I’m spending 90% of my time on other people’s projects. This has been fun and lucrative, but it’s not allowing me time to work on stuff that matters to me: writing blog posts and books, creating new projects, and working with personal coaching clients.
I’ll likely take a significant financial hit in the short-term, but that’s no big deal. Best case scenario: I use that free time to create things that help people and earn money directly. Worst-case scenario: I try it for a year and pick up another corporate client or two in 2018 if needed.
So that’s mine. Now it’s your turn.
It’ll take you roughly an hour, but it could be the most important thing you do this year. After all, 2017 is already here.
What are you the most proud of? Where are your biggest growth opportunities?
And the biggest question: What are you going to do about them?
-Nate
A one-hour exercise to help you celebrate your biggest wins, identify your biggest opportunities, and prepare to dominate the upcoming year.
I spend most of my time planning for the future. With the help of my meditation practice, I’m getting better at living more in the present. But something I still find incredibly difficult is reflecting on the past.
I rarely celebrate achievements for more than a few minutes, and I almost never “look back” on projects or situations to identify what I learned. (And I certainly don’t use that information to guide my future decisions.)
This, as you can imagine, is a problem.
Sometimes being “doomed to repeat” stuff can be a good thing. I think I did a lot of things right this year, and I’d like to continue to do them.
But I also did a lot of stuff wrong.
If we don’t learn from our past, we we won’t be able to identify our biggest opportunities to make life better. Which means we’ll likely suffer through the same situations and thought-patterns again and again.
So this year, I’m beginning a new tradition I hope to repeat every year: A Personal Retrospective.
A retrospective is when you look back on past events to identify what worked…and what didn’t work. A retrospective helps you celebrate your wins and identify your weaknesses. It helps you learn from the past and correct for the future.
I was first introduced to this framework by Phil Caravaggio, the CEO of Precision Nutrition. Because of him, PN does a retrospective at the end of every single project.
We’ve found it invaluable for the business, and I expect to get similar results with my Personal Retrospective.
To do a Personal Retrospective, you simply pick a particular project or time period and ask yourself the following questions:
Then you spend 15-30 minutes writing about each.
To give you an idea of how it’s done—and to encourage you to do the same—I want to share mine with you.
If I had to give 2015 a title, I’d call it “The year of getting out of my comfort zone, seeing the ‘The Big Picture’, and refocusing.”
I gave four talks this year, and each one taught me something profound.
“Working with Nate is like sitting in a coffee shop talking to a good friend, but instead of chatting about what you did last Friday night, you’re plotting a plan for domination.” Eric W, a guy I worked with this year.
Richelle and I stayed debt free, contributed a good chunk of money to our “freedom fund”, and put most of our stuff in storage before setting off to travel.
We left Portland, spent two months back home in Montana, then traveled to Merida and Playa del Carmen, Mexico, where we’re currently enjoying the beach. From here, we’re heading to Southeast Asia, then on to Europe. Or wherever.
I also made a few difficult yet calculated decisions that I believe will allow me to do even more personally-meaningful work in 2016. But more on that later.
Anyone who knows me knows that I’m very candid. That means I say what I think and share my feelings—oftentimes without thinking critically about what I’m about to say. Since I tend to hash out ideas verbally, I actually “think” while talking.
Because of my gregariousness, I can sometimes come off as brash and emotionally-reactive, which understandably makes some people uncomfortable.
“Venting” on an idea may help me formulate my thoughts, but it’s not necessarily an effective way to communicate all the time.
While I’ve trained myself to notice it either while I’m doing it or shortly after the interaction is over, I have yet to discover how to notice the urge to “vent” before it happens.
When I don’t have a chair, I find it very hard to sit still for longer than a minute or two. (If you want to make me miserable just ask me to sit on the floor.)
I’ve paid lip-service to flexibility for the past couple of years, half-heartedly following a daily stretching routine. But honestly, I still tend to skip a good part of my warm-up and “forget” to stretch at least half the time.
Because of that, I often wake up tight and sore and often require a hot shower to “loosen up.”
If I had to “80/20” the stuff I should work on — the stuff that will help me suffer less and become more effective in 2016 — my biggest opportunities are fixing my communication skills and becoming more flexible. (While maintaining my already-established good habits, of course).
I’ll likely talk to people and move my body around for the rest of my life—so it makes sense for me to focus on these weaker areas.
“In your professional life, it’s better to focus on your strengths. But in your personal life, it’s better to improve your weaknesses.” Phil Caravaggio
Below is how I plan on tackling them right off the bat, though I’m sure my specific action steps will change and transform throughout the year.
Action step #1: Read the book Crucial Conversations, take notes, then perform an 80/20 analysis on my notes to identify the top 1-2 habits I should work on first.
Action step #2: In the meantime, I’m going to work on not interrupting people during conversations. When I notice the urge to speak, I will take a breath, continue to listen, and try to hear exactly what is being said before asking a question or beginning to talk.
I’ll do the following in PN-style fashion: pick one thing and focus on it completely for 2-4 weeks before moving on to the next action step.
Action step #1: Do my morning mobility and activation warm-up at least 80% of the time. That means I can only miss one day out of the week.
Action step #2: Follow a simple 5-minute mobility, stretching circuit before bed every night.
Action step #3: Set a timer for 60 minutes and do one stretch for one minute for every hour that I work at my computer.
Action step #4: Sit on the ground for at least 10 minutes and play with positions till they become more comfortable.
So that’s mine. Now it’s your turn.
It’ll take you roughly an hour, but it could be the most important thing you do this year. After all, 2015 is almost over and the new year will be here in a week.
What are you the most proud of? Where are your biggest growth opportunities?
And the biggest question: What are you going to do about them?
-Nate
PS – Here are a couple random things I think you’ll enjoy:
What I read to become a better public speaker:
A video of my friend Kyle sticking his head in a toilet after losing a bet. The guy was hilarious and would do anything for a laugh.
And finally, I’m going to be doing a LOT more projects, writing, and personal coaching in 2016. I’m very excited about this—and I hope you are, too.
Thanks, as always, for reading,
-Nate
More skills before starting a business. More clothes to reinvent our wardrobes. More Twitter followers. More money. More attention from the world.
But do me a favor: before you get more food from the grocery store, go take a look in your fridge.
What’s in there?
Half an avocado that’s turning brown? A couple eggs? An apple?
That’s your dinner.
With a little love and attention, the stuff you were going to trash tomorrow can be a nourishing meal now.
You didn’t need more. You had enough already.
This isn’t about kids starving in Africa or food waste or whatever else.
It’s about recognizing what you have and putting that to good use before trying to get more.
It’s about learning to be resourceful and creative. Because those are qualities that extend far beyond making an omelet.
Those are life skills.
So here’s some advice for you that’s really advice for me:
When you feel the need for more, stop and do an inventory of what you have already.
Maybe it’s enough.
A couple days ago, a 19-year-old college student asked me this:
“I want to work in the fitness industry and help people. If you could go back to when you were 19, what would you do over?”
It was a good question; and I felt honored that he trusted me, a college dropout, to answer it.
Now, I don’t remember everything I told him, but I do remember one Big Point:
Storytime:
When I was 21, I took out a $25,000 loan to buy workout equipment and rent my own personal training studio.
The first year I was open, my mom had to bring me care packages of food and toilet paper because I didn’t have any cash left over at the end of the month.
All my money went to paying two rents (my apartment and my workout studio), bank loans and…weekly matinee movies where I snuck a couple cans of beer into the theatre and drank them in the back row. I learned that a regular 9-5 job wasn’t for me early on. I’ve also gotten better with money. Still drink beer at the movies, though.
From the outside, of course, it looked like I was doing great. And to a point, I was.
I didn’t have a “regular” job. I was starting to write for fitness magazines. I made money helping people get in shape.
But I really had the illusion of success because I had the nice “upscale” studio. No one knew how much money I made…or how much money I paid to have the nice studio.
“Hey, there’s that young go-getter with the fancy workout place!”
So while I was good at training people and had some wonderful clients — the best, actually — my studio was too small to train more than one person at a time. Plus it was above a nice hair salon who didn’t appreciate the thump of early-morning deadlift sessions.
Plus, I wasn’t having that much fun eating canned tuna and wiping my ass with low-grade, single ply sandpaper.
I’d buy a cheap beat-up truck and $300 worth of kettlebells and other random workout stuff, and train people outside in the sun. Park, beach, backyard…it wouldn’t matter.
No more training studio with an astronomical rent. No more bank loans.
If it rained, I’d negotiate some kind of flat-rate deal ($20-40 bucks for a few hours) with a high school gym or a martial arts studio or some kind of community-building-thing and train people there instead.
And I would never ever train one person at a time. Only groups of 2-3.
Quick aside: training 3 people is pretty much the same as training one person, and it’s even easier to get clients, since everyone wants to bring a friend and hang out and make the thing social.
Plus everyone gets a discount and you make more money per hour. It’s winning all around.
Math:
One person: Pays you $50 / hour to watch them do lunges. You make $50 per hour.
3 people: Pay you $25 / hour to watch them all do lunges. You make $75 per hour.)
Of course, coaching is a skill and involves much more than watching people do lunges. But that’s still a part of it.
If I was 19 or 21 or hell, even if I had to quit everything and start from scratch now, that’s what I would do. And when I wasn’t training clients, I’d be writing and hustling in other ways.
I’m not saying it’s perfect or even a good idea.
But still. It sounds kinda nice, right?
+++++++++++
What I’m currently enjoying: Choose Yourself by James Altucher.
Get notified whenever I post something new by following me on Twitter or liking my Facebook page. Read why I don’t have comments or an email newsletter here.
+++++++++++
The easiest thing to do is to let your mind wander instead of being in the moment.
To check email or Facebook or Instagram instead of creating something.
To wait for your turn to talk instead of listening to what’s being said.
To sleep in instead of starting your day.
To get caught up in gossip or drama or who said what instead of asking yourself why it matters.
To stay still instead of moving.
To do the same stuff everyone else is doing instead of trying something new.
To find fault instead of value.
To wait for someone to text or call or invite you instead of contacting them yourself.
To think about the past and what should have happened instead of what’s going on now and what could happen.
To say no instead of yes.
It’s the thing you’ve habituated, the thing that’s waiting for you, the thing that makes you feel safe and OK.
The hardest thing to do? Recognizing when you’re doing the easy thing.
And then doing the opposite.
+++++++++++
What I’m currently enjoying: Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter.
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One man’s love note to the humble shower beer.
Oh, Shower Beer.
You are the almighty relaxer.
You are the ultimate creativity enhancer…for I am writing this after having you, Shower Beer.
You inspire me.
You, who are so cold when the water is so hot.
You, who have been waiting in the fridge for me all day, patiently, like a good friend.
Others have tried to reenact your experience — with coconut water, or wine coolers, or some kind of juice, perhaps — but their efforts are feeble and preposterous.
For only you, Shower Beer, are bestowed the bubbly bragging rights of “Best Shower Beverage.”
Your counterpart, Bathtub Whiskey, is nice, of course.
Elegant, regal, a fine sipper…but not an option, sadly, for I live in a small house with no tub and must reserve it for hotel visits and excursions home where I must first remove hair from the drain and wipe it clean with paper towels before settling into the water and being transported.
A throwback, perhaps, to my younger days.
Back then, you were a thing of novelty. To be enjoyed while on trips with friends, usually the morning after a late night of doing stupid teenager-type things.
But now, Shower Beer, I treasure you.
For you are the great reset button.
The end of launch-day ritual.
The “I’ve had a bad day and need to unwind” exhale.
The “I’ve had a good day and need to celebrate” exclamation.
You are many things, Shower Beer.
Naturally, you come in different containers and are comprised of different ingredients: Glass bottles. Cans. Stouts. IPAs. 40 ounces of malt liquor.
For in that simple design you are refreshing and not heavy and decidedly less dangerous than glass.
Because what if I should drop you, Shower Beer?
Oh what a catastrophe that would be. Can you imagine?
But I mustn’t think such deathly thoughts.
Because there you are, half-full (for I am an optimist) and cold and sitting on the little shelf next to my girlfriend’s shampoo and conditioner.
And I shall savor you and stand in this shower until not only you are finished but until my skin turns wrinkly and kinda burny due to my dry skin.
And when I’m down to your last sip, I will take a deep breath and feel the hot water on my head and close my eyes and know that yes, life is amazing.
And then I will set your empty vessel back onto the shelf (where I will inevitably forget you until the next morning), and I shall step out of that steamy portal, and I will towel off and think:
Did I wash my hair?
I don’t remember.
When I wrote “I’m a recovering fitness junkie”, I received a bunch of likes, comments, and retweets. That made me feel good, since it seemed like a lot of people related to it.
But what interested me more were the emails I received. Private ones.
They were from people who didn’t want anyone else to know that the article resonated with them. People with businesses, egos, jobs, and possibly friendships on the line.
They couldn’t afford to “go public” with their opinion.
One person wrote:
“I didn’t want to post this on Facebook since all my friends and fans would see it. The truth is, I’ve been feeling similar to you for a long time. I thought I was the only one.”
Reading these emails and seeing the hurt, fear, and possibility contained in them was a good reminder for me:
Whatever we’re feeling right now—whatever we’re worried about, scared of, and trying to bury deep down—at least one other person is feeling the exact same way.
Same goes for what we’re excited about.
So even if it feels like you’re the only person in the world who deals with X, that no one else will understand or care, trust me on this:
You are not alone.
I barely graduated high school with a 1.7 GPA. I never made it past basic algebra and I didn’t take the SATs or any other college-admissions test.
While most of my friends went to school out of town, I gave up my hosting job at a restaurant and started working at a clothing store.
During that time, I attended one half-assed semester of local community college. It lasted three months. My economics professor told me all I had to do to pass the class was turn in the final assignment. I didn’t even show up that day.
A couple years went by and I got a job at a health club wiping down machines, re-stocking towels, and changing the soap in the men’s locker room.
I was 22 years old, living in the same town I grew up in, with no college education, cleaning sweat off of treadmills.
This is the part where you may expect me to say I pulled my shit together, that I hit a point where I said, dammit, I’m not gonna live like this. The part where I started to turn my life around. Well, that never happened. I never had an epiphany like that.
I knew I was on the right track.
Back then if “someone important” would have looked at me on paper — at my jobs, my GPA, my lack of college — they’d probably think I was a loser destined to a shitty life of minimum-wage jobs. And that would be a fair judgement, based on the sheer amount of evidence.
But they would have missed a few things.
They would have missed the two years I wrote a weekly sports column for my city’s newspaper while in high school. They would have missed me reading strength and health books during math class, and the 40 pounds of muscle I gained in the weight room. They would have missed my job as editor of the community college newspaper for that one lonely semester. They would have missed the day where I randomly emailed the former fitness director of Men’s Health magazine and told him I wanted his job. And the day I took out a $1,200 loan to fly across the country to attend a fitness seminar. And the day where I started my blog. And the day where I started training clients in between wiping off the treadmills.
They would have missed it all because they would have been looking in the wrong place, comparing my shitty grades to the rest of my class and basing my future worth and earnings on those numbers.
I’m telling you this because there’s a lesson and an opportunity here.
The lesson is this: Education isn’t restricted to the classroom. The hallowed halls of Whatever College are not the only place where you can learn. What most people won’t tell you is that you can get education on your own by doing things. By trying stuff out. You can learn a lot by taking risks and connecting with other people who have taken risks before you.
And this education — what some call “street smarts” — may just be more helpful in the real world than a piece of paper.
College, I’m told, is a wonderful place for discovery and learning and building life-long relationships. That’s fantastic. And if that’s why you’re in college — or why you went — then I understand. It sounds fulfilling and exciting.
But if you’re in college with no clear direction and no clear goal other than “It’s what I’m supposed to do” — if you’re in any situation with no clear goal or objective, for that matter — I challenge you to ask yourself why. Is it really the place for you right now? Or could you get an even better education by investing in yourself and taking some chances?
You can always go back to college (or back to the job or back to whatever). But you can’t get back lost years of your life.
I’m not suggesting you drop out if you’re currently in college. And I’m not suggesting you go to college if you’re not sure if it’s for you. It’s up to you to do that critical thinking.
But whatever you do, make sure you learn something. Make sure you take control of your education — however you get it — and use it to build a life worth living.
Because isn’t that the whole point?