You Are Not More Valuable When You're Tired

The Problem

At first, I just felt a little off. Less sharp. Less creative. Less me.

My body was sluggish. My brain, foggy. I didn’t like how I looked and I really didn’t like how I was thinking. I was learning how to parent, building my dream home, taking on more work at Stanford than I ever had, and launching a group cohort program with an accelerator.

And in the middle of it I got injured, tried to bounce back too soon, and got injured again. You might think I went to physical therapy or made a plan to get better. Nope. I felt scared of getting hurt again, so I quit trying. Time for movement turned into time for work. Slowly, time for activities like eating and sleeping turned into time for work, too. I told myself I was being efficient and responsible. What I really was? Fried.

And of course: I knew better. You probably do too. 

Eat well, sleep well, move well – this is not revolutionary. But when things get busy, the basics are the first to go. Why? Because at some point you start believing the inner critic’s sneaky little lie: If you suffer, your work will shine.

So exhaustion becomes a performance strategy. You equate being available with being valuable. You dull the very instrument you’re supposed to lead with—you.

The Discovery

When I know what I’m supposed to do, yet find myself not doing it, I’ve learned to recognize it isn’t a logic problem, it’s a story problem. Because I know, you know, we all know that eating, sleeping, and moving well is good for us. 

But some story I had about my situation stirred up emotions that stopped me from doing the things I knew made logical sense.

My story?

I should be able to get this done. I used to be able to get this done.

I used to be able to get all the things on my list done. “You are a machine.” I was told. Now, I felt dismayed. Each day my list was not only incomplete, but getting longer. So I sacrificed my health for my to-do list. I had to prove to myself that I still had it, even if that meant replacing exercise with work, sleeping late, eating whatever.

That’s not all. It turns out I had a second story: 

I need an hour (or two!) to get a good workout. 

And with that story I felt resigned. I didn’t have a big gap in my day to exercise, so exercise wouldn't happen. Binary thinking (all or nothing) kept me from doing anything. 

The Experiment

If you’re a high-achieving leader in “Do as I say, not as I do” mode, sacrificing yourself for your team, organization, customers or anyone else, see what this experiment does for you.

Step 1: Take a Story Inventory

If you’re not taking care of yourself the way you want to, you’re likely running on an unexamined story. Stories like:

• “I need to do everything I can, or I’m letting someone down.”

• “If I rest, it might all fall apart.”

• “I don’t have time.”

• “I should be able to do this by myself.”

• “I need to have all the answers.”

• “If I can’t get it all done, I must be the problem.”

Sound familiar? Your turn. Grab a piece of paper and ask:

• What are the stories I’m believing about what’s required of me?

• What emotion rides underneath them – guilt, fear, embarrassment, unworthiness?

• What’s the pressure I keep applying to myself that I’d never expect from anyone else?

You’ll know you’ve hit something real when you feel a shift. Your shoulders may drop. You may feel weepy. You might get a burst of energy, “That’s it!”

Step 2: Question the Story

Once you’ve named the story, you get to challenge it. Because that narrative running in the background is a strategy your inner critic cooked up in response to change and uncertainty.

Ask yourself:

• Is this story even true?

• Should I be able to do this alone?

• Am I really the only one who can do this?

• What am I avoiding by clinging to this story?

• Just because I used to be able to do it, does that mean I still should?

• If I could handle it all, would that actually be a good thing?

Sometimes the story is protecting a fear you haven’t fully named. Sometimes it’s protecting an identity that needs to evolve.

Step 3: Ask Yourself What You Want

What do you actually want? This is the part we skip when we’re stuck in output mode, blinders on. Here’s what I realized I wanted:

• I want to feel strong and energized at 6pm, not depleted and brittle.

• I want to delegate work and know my team is learning and growing.

• I want to be a person who knows if I take care of myself I can take better care of the people around me. 

Your turn. Fill in the blanks. It doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be yours.

• “I want _______.”

• “I want to feel _______.”

• “I want to stop _______.”

• “I want to be the kind of leader who _______.”

This becomes your signal so the next time your old story flares up, you can ask:

Is this getting me closer to what I actually want?

The Takeaway

There isn’t another hour in the day. And even if there was, I don’t want to fill it with more work. I learned that doing so makes me worse at my job. So, I changed my systems. I’m making different choices. Now, I work fewer hours with more clients, and my business is growing.

As for exercise, I go to the gym for 15 minutes. What could possibly get done in 15 minutes? I had the same question. Turns out, plenty. I crank the elliptical up to level 12. By minute 5 I am sweating. By minute 12 I have two fingers on my neck wondering if it’s possible for my pulse to explode. 

What kickstarted those changes was an honest look at the stories holding me back and realizing I am not more valuable when I’m tired. I am not more me when I’m tired.

Taking care of yourself isn’t the thing you do after the work. It’s what makes the work actually work.

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