Finding the Right Pace

I bought a pair of pants recently. Finding pants that fit me is like winning the lottery. So this seemed like a particularly great pair. They looked good, felt good. Made me feel good.

I wore them once, tossed them in the wash, and threw them in the dryer without a second thought. Didn’t bother checking the tag. Why would I?

Now they look like something I may have worn in middle school.

Speed is a weapon. But sometimes it fires in the wrong direction.

I’ve been thinking about this lately—not the pants (though they’re still on my mind), but the bigger question of when to go fast and when to slow down. Professionally, I want to go faster and make more decisions. It’s about quantity and speed—building momentum by trying, testing, iterating. Context dependent, but most decisions in business aren’t permanent (construction, maybe early-stage investing, and I’m sure other examples notwithstanding...more to share on the investing piece soon though 👀), and I’ve always felt that you can recover from most mistakes. For me, ‘work’ is about moving with urgency and intensity. An unrelenting, furious pace. Learning fast. And trusting that momentum will carry me forward.

In my personal life, though, I want fewer decisions. Slower ones. Bigger ones. I’m actively removing the small, daily choices—what to eat, what to wear, whether to drink—so I can preserve that energy for things that really matter. It’s not about laziness or control. It’s about directing my energy to the right places. Fewer inputs, sharper focus.

It’s a balance—speed in one hand, patience in the other. I’m learning when to lean into each. In work, speed is a tool (and competitive advantage) to cover ground and learn quickly. In life, slowing down allows me to protect the things that matter most. Relationships. Health. Clothes? The decisions that ripple far beyond the moment I make them.

Writing helps me untangle these thoughts. I don’t write because I have it figured out—I write to think better, to improve myself, to improve how I communicate, and (hopefully) to connect with others. These aren’t answers, just personal reflections.

For now, I’m working to be more intentional. To move fast when it’s time to move fast, and to pause when it’s time to pause.

To spend my energy where it matters most and let go of the rest.

The work is in creating an environment where I can optimize for the best possible outcome—whether that’s by reducing noise or by cranking up the pace. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about building a rhythm that works and trusting it to guide me forward.

When I mess up, learn from it, laugh about it, make the necessary adjustments, and move forward.

And when it comes to pants…maybe the lesson is that they just aren’t built for me. So I’ll keep trying—or just hope society finally embraces sweatpants full-time.