Slowness as Strategy

Pacing for sustainability in a world focused on speed

I used to be a long-distance runner.

One day, a friend asked me, “How can I run 5 miles without stopping?”

Simple. Easy. “Just go as slow as possible. Whatever pace you need to go in order to not get tired.”

A look of shock spread across her face. “But that would be reallyyyyyy slow.”

“Yes.”

See, the thing many people don’t understand about long-distance running is that it is reallyyyyyy slow. And it’s slow for a reason. If you go fast, you can’t run as long.

Another thing I found through running is that if you go fast, it’s not very enjoyable either. I got to a point with running where I could handle going at faster paces for longer distances, but it sucked. I wasn’t having fun, I wasn’t actually enjoying being outside and moving my body, and it didn’t make me feel excited for the next time I would go out on a run.

In other words, it lacked sustainability.

I began wondering what it would look like if I applied this idea to other areas in my life where I was feeling burnout. At the time, I was a college student. I tested out what it was like to really take my time on assignments I felt excited about. I started taking the long way to class. I would cook a meal and eat it slowly, without looking at my phone or anything else as a way to speed up the time.

And it felt so good.

I found myself feeling connected to myself and the world in ways I didn’t think were possible. I learned what I felt passionate about again. I said no to things I had never given myself permission to say no to before. And, somehow, I still got everything done that needed to be done.

Why?

I think because this practice taught me to prioritize what I truly wanted to spend my time on. Don’t get me wrong, I still had to do tasks I didn’t want to do. But the way I did them felt different. If it was an assignment, I would just do what was required of me so that I could get back to doing what I felt excited about. If it was laundry, I viewed it as time to slow down and sit with my thoughts, get to know myself better, or listen to a podcast that brought me closer to what felt good.

And then I forgot what I had learned.

After spending some years in this blissful state, I decided to start my own business.

It wasn’t long until I got caught up in all of the tasks, clients, and focus on growth and making more money before I realized I was teetering on the edge of a major crash-and-burn situation. I was deeply burnt out and didn’t want to accept that I just couldn’t keep up with the pace I had set for myself—the pace I felt the world expected of me.

The pace was unsustainable.

Our brains can go many different routes when it comes to burnout. There were many months where I wanted to leave my field completely and do something unrelated. There were times I thought I was going to quit everything on the spot and go on some grand adventure. There were days where I thought that maybe I just wasn’t cut out for the kind of work I do and needed to find something less intense than therapy.

But as I sat with which route I may want to go with my future, I found that my current work and life offered me most of what I wanted in terms of creativity, flexibility, purpose, etc. I just wasn’t doing it in a sustainable way.

So, I stopped taking new clients. I set more strict boundaries on what times I was willing to work and stuck to them. I chose to spend time, even if it was just a few minutes, slowing down to do the things that made me feel excitement and passion again.

It wasn’t instant, but over the course of a couple more months, I felt connected again. I could slow down enough to feel present with my life, my friends, my hobbies, myself, and even my work.

This wasn’t a comfortable shift. It was incredibly uncomfortable. I had to say no to people. I had to set boundaries with myself and others. I had to risk not being able to show up for people in the ways they wanted me to. I had to push myself to try to engage in activities that once felt exciting but now just felt taxing. And I had to be okay with making less money.

But, over time, the life started to seep back in.

And I feel so grateful to myself for finding slowness again.

I want to invite you to find slowness, too. Maybe not in a huge, career-shifting and life-altering way. But maybe in just one small way.

What is one thing you’d like to find slowness in?