What are you willing to give up?

Hello friends. Trying a slightly different content format. These are going to be shorter essays at a more frequent cadence. Think of them as my thought bubbles that I want to share with you. They are the beginnings of ideas — not fully formed.

I hope they spark some discussion. Please feel free to reach out if anything resonates.

5%.

That's how much of my life I will have spent recovering from Achilles surgery after this rehab. When you think about it, that's a substantial amount of time. College took up 14% of my life, and my time at Goldman was 11% (although it feels like more than 25%).

It's shocking how much of my life has been dedicated to trying to get my toes to wiggle again. Was it all worth it? It is a question I have been asking myself a lot.

I tore both of my Achilles the same way—playing pickup basketball. Both were non-contact injuries and happened while I was training for endurance events (Ironman 70.3 and Hyrox).

Here's the important thing: I love endurance training. I love playing sports. I love being in constant motion. I don't think that will ever change. I have always been this way, it brings me genuine joy. I can't imagine living my life at a slower pace.

But here's the problem. My love for physical exertion is what got me into this predicament. The demands of physical exertion have rendered me sedentary, my worst nightmare. I love being active, but I hate being inactive even more. It drives me insane, with thoughts buzzing in my head and no endorphins to soothe my ever-spinning brain.

I've reached a point where I have to ask myself a serious question: What am I willing to give up?

At 28, I never thought I'd be considering "toning it down." I have so many more crazy things I want to do: learn Jiu Jitsu, run a 150-mile desert race, complete the 7 summits, and bike across the country.

These are just a few of my ambitions. But I realize now that the "equation of achievement" for these goals is very different from what I first thought.

We humans poorly understand tail risks and their impacts. I think I understand them better now. Only 1% of the population experiences bilateral Achilles tears. I guess I should feel special—I'm a 1%'er.

Being a 1%'er gives you a special insight into how wrong things can go. I was healthy, in shape, actively training to maintain my health and longevity...and I STILL ruptured my Achilles, TWICE.

I know firsthand that things can stray from the plan, that things can go very wrong.

So now I am at a crossroads. I know that after this recovery, I will be somewhat compromised athletically for the rest of my life. I think I'm okay with that. It's okay if I am a slightly diminished version of what I once was. What I can't stand is the idea of giving these things up, of becoming a different person.

In reflecting on this question, I have come to two conclusions:

1. It is important to constantly evaluate and understand the tradeoffs of your actions. Know the upside and the downside.

2. Play situations out to their logical conclusions. What is likely to happen if I keep doing X forever?

I love pushing my body to the limit, but I hate the idea of being stuck in rehab limbo more than I love pushing myself. It's a tough pill to swallow.

In the future, I might have to give up (or at least tamp down) the things that make me happiest, to avoid the tail risks for longer. I think I'm okay with this outcome. It's not ideal, but I have a better idea of what I'm willing to give up.

It's a form of surrender, but one that comes with its own benefits. By giving up what you love in the short term, you might capture what you truly need in the long term.

Just a thought.5%.

That's how much of my life I will have spent recovering from Achilles surgery after this rehab. When you think about it, that's a substantial amount of time. College took up 14% of my life, and my time at Goldman was 11% (although it feels like more than 25%).

It's shocking how much of my life has been dedicated to trying to get my toes to wiggle again. Was it all worth it? It is a question I have been asking myself a lot.

I tore both of my Achilles the same way—playing pickup basketball. Both were non-contact injuries and happened while I was training for endurance events (Ironman 70.3 and Hyrox).

Here's the important thing: I love endurance training. I love playing sports. I love being in constant motion. I don't think that will ever change. I have always been this way, it brings me genuine joy. I can't imagine living my life at a slower pace.

But here's the problem. My love for physical exertion is what got me into this predicament. The demands of physical exertion have rendered me sedentary, my worst nightmare. I love being active, but I hate being inactive even more. It drives me insane, with thoughts buzzing in my head and no endorphins to soothe my ever-spinning brain.

I've reached a point where I have to ask myself a serious question: What am I willing to give up?

At 28, I never thought I'd be considering "toning it down." I have so many more crazy things I want to do: learn Jiu Jitsu, run a 150-mile desert race, complete the 7 summits, and bike across the country.

These are just a few of my ambitions. But I realize now that the "equation of achievement" for these goals is very different from what I first thought.

We humans poorly understand tail risks and their impacts. I think I understand them better now. Only 1% of the population experiences bilateral Achilles tears. I guess I should feel special—I'm a 1%'er.

Being a 1%'er gives you a special insight into how wrong things can go. I was healthy, in shape, actively training to maintain my health and longevity...and I STILL ruptured my Achilles, TWICE.

I know firsthand that things can stray from the plan, that things can go very wrong.

So now I am at a crossroads. I know that after this recovery, I will be somewhat compromised athletically for the rest of my life. I think I'm okay with that. It's okay if I am a slightly diminished version of what I once was. What I can't stand is the idea of giving these things up, of becoming a different person.

In reflecting on this question, I have come to two conclusions:

1. It is important to constantly evaluate and understand the tradeoffs of your actions. Know the upside and the downside.

2. Play situations out to their logical conclusions. What is likely to happen if I keep doing X forever?

I love pushing my body to the limit, but I hate the idea of being stuck in rehab limbo more than I love pushing myself. It's a tough pill to swallow.

In the future, I might have to give up (or at least tamp down) the things that make me happiest, to avoid the tail risks for longer. I think I'm okay with this outcome. It's not ideal, but I have a better idea of what I'm willing to give up.

It's a form of surrender, but one that comes with its own benefits. By giving up what you love in the short term, you might capture what you truly need in the long term.

Just a thought.