Feeling stuck?

I was chatting to a friend at the gym today.
He started training seriously about eight months ago and has done everything “right”. Regular workouts. A trainer who motivates and pushes him hard.

At first the gains came fast.
Lower body fat. Better stamina. Improved blood pressure.

But for the last month or so he’s felt stuck.
No decline.
Just not much obvious improvement.

He’s beginning to ask himself:
“Is this actually worth it if I’m not getting fitter anymore?”

It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times over the years.

I’ve trained consistently for decades. I’ve had bursts of improvement, usually after a break, followed by long plateaus.

The pattern became even clearer during my recovery from cancer treatment last year. Early on, every small gain felt dramatic.
A bit more strength. A bit more energy. A sense of momentum returning.

Now, as I approach my pre-cancer level of fitness, the gains have started to slow again. I’m still pushing for incremental gains and getting even fitter than before.
But at some stage I will plateau.

What’s most important to me isn’t just the physiology.
It’s the motivation.

I still care about health, of course.
But the real reason I train every day is how it makes me feel.
The focus. The calm. The endorphins.
The sense that I’m more inhabitable to myself and others afterwards.

If I skip a day, I notice it quickly. I’m flatter. Grumpier. Less patient.

That conversation got me thinking about business and leadership.

Early growth in a business can feel like early fitness gains.
Everything works. Effort is rewarded. Momentum is energising.
High growth can become expected.

But growth does not necessarily continue at that pace forever.
Markets mature. Complexity increases.
Each extra unit of progress costs more attention, more energy, more emotional load.

At some point for founders and leaders, the question can quietly shift from “How do we keep growing?” to something more existential:

“If growth slows, what keeps this meaningful?”

In fitness, I no longer train just to keep improving.
I train to stay well. To regulate myself. To show up better for the day ahead.

In leadership, I often see a similar shift.
From building to stewarding. From acceleration to pacing.
From chasing relentlessly increasing targets to sustaining capacity.

It’s not glamorous. There’s no spike. No scoreboard moment.

It’s often the difference between something that burns bright and out versus something that lasts.

The tricky part is recognising that this is not failure.
It’s often an invitation to re-frame what success looks like for you and your business.

Perhaps, not growth at all costs.
But care, consistency, and excellence.