Staying Charged for the Long Ride
January 24, 2026
“There’s a lot of things I wish I’d known before I learned them.” — Townes Van Zandt
On the ranch, there are moments when the work isn’t finished, but you stop anyway. Not because you’re done, but because pushing further would make tomorrow harder. Heat builds. Focus slips or daylights wanes. Equipment starts to show signs of strain. Ignoring those signals doesn’t make you tough. It makes you careless.
What’s obvious on a ranch is often overlooked in leadership.
In most leadership cultures, endurance is celebrated. Long hours, constant availability, and the ability to push through are treated as proof of commitment. Somewhere along the way, rest became something you earned only after everything else was done. The problem is, the work is never really done. Being the person who responds the fastest, sends the most messages, or shows up the most on Slack does not mean you are winning. Motion is easy to confuse with progress.
I was reminded of this recently reading a reflection by Mark Manson, one of my favorite authors and podcasters, on writing The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck. He worked relentlessly for most of the process, assuming more hours meant more progress. What finally unlocked the book wasn’t working harder, but working better. Once he stopped chasing volume and focused on producing something good, he realized his best work only came in a few focused hours a day. Everything beyond that just created more rework.
Leadership works the same way. More hours don’t automatically produce better decisions. Being always on doesn’t sharpen judgment. It often dulls it. The goal isn’t to maximize activity. It’s to protect the windows where your thinking is actually clear.
When rest is ignored, the first thing to suffer isn’t effort. It’s judgment. Small decisions take longer. Perspective narrows. Patience thins. You’re still working, but you’re no longer working well. Teams feel that long before anyone says it out loud.
On Monday, I’m heading to Key West for a week to attend a music festival. I haven’t taken time off during this incredibly busy stretch in education technology ever. I’m not trying to disconnect from the work, but to take care of the part of the work that doesn’t show up on a dashboard. Time away has a way of restoring perspective. It sharpens thinking. It reminds you what steady actually feels like. The timing isn’t perfect, but is it ever?
I’ve played guitar for more than 30 years, but recently I picked it back up with more intention, including songwriting, as a way to rebalance. I’ve also pushed myself to learn new artists instead of playing the same familiar songs. There’s a parallel here. You can read the chords, listen closely, and watch others play, but real understanding only comes after hours of practice. Sometimes the best progress comes from setting the instrument down, letting your hands rest, processing, and coming back clearer. Leadership isn’t much different.
Taking time away isn’t a sign that the work doesn’t matter. It’s an acknowledgment that it does. Protecting your energy protects your clarity. And protecting your clarity protects the people and decisions that depend on it.
On the ranch, strength isn’t measured by how long you stay in motion every day. It’s measured by whether the work can continue tomorrow, and the day after that. Leadership is no different. The goal isn’t to empty the tank in one stretch. It’s to stay charged enough to keep going. If leaders don’t model this for their teams, they eventually become a one-person operation, and that’s not winning.
You can’t ride hard forever without paying for it later. Rest isn’t stepping away from the work. It’s part of how you stay in it.
P.S. I’ll be taking next Saturday off from Halcyon Headwinds to rest and recharge ahead of the Mile 0 Fest finale with Shane Smith & The Saints. Assuming I can actually get out of here Monday after this Winter blast we are getting this weekend!
