rich roll
Dad Athlete Author 📗Finding Ultra👂Rich Roll Podcast✌🏼 I like talking to people & running far🌱

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r

To celebrate the 1yr anniversary of my spinal fusion surgery, I decided to see if I could ‘run’ 1 mile very slowly—something my surgeon said was an unlikely possibility. Running, he urged, is one thing best considered permanently retired.
Perhaps he’s right. But I believe in possibility—bullheaded, I need to find out for myself. To set up for success (and avoid recklessness), I prepared for this moment by rigorously devoting the last 130 days to relearning proper posture, and by rebuilding my strength, mobility, stability, and flexibility—all while being careful to not cause undue compression on my lower spine.
By dint of inhabiting the patient and plodding tortoise as my precious spirit animal, by the time my 1-year surgery birthday rolled around, I believed myself prepared to test whether a return to running might be even remotely possible.
To ‘run’ this science experiment, I recruited my little brother from Down Under to our shared DUMBO laboratory, because @dan_churchill is positively one of the most positive and encouraging people I’m privileged to know.
The goal was simple. Run a single mile. As slowly as possible.
Success. Not because I completed the mile (I knew I could), but because I woke up the next am w/o pain, which is a joy & a relief.
Nonetheless, the significance is symbolic. It doesn’t mean my relationship with running will be what it once was. It won’t. No problem. I don’t need nor even wantthat. What I do want is new relationship with running, a different affair with my favorite aerobic activity. One that isn’t about being hard, but instead about joy. About service. About connection & community.
Today I’m hopeful, a tortoise telling myself that it’s not about fast, it’s about moving forward slowly without the hare giving me care.
I say this because my surgery taught me the value of slowing down. How the answers I seek are only available when I am—which means doubling down on being present.
Transformation is the prize for moving forward undeterred—knowing all the while that life isn’t a race. It’s an experience to be shared not a competition to win.
Thx for the memories Dan & @colebradley25 for the brilliant 📸‼️
✌🏼🐢 ❤️ -r
BOREDOM!
Follow: @drchatterjee X @richroll and head to Episode 412 of Dr. Chatterjee’s ‘Feel Better, Live More’ podcast.
On this week’s SPECIAL mindset compilation episode, we hear from the inspirational author and podcast host, @richroll. During our conversation, Rich talks about the importance of having time alone with our thoughts and why we need discomfort in order to grow.
He also shares his thoughts about technology and the lack of downtime in our modern world, as well as why we struggle with boredom and how we can find creative ways to entertain ourselves.
Leave a YES below if you’ll be listening to this one👇🏾
You can find episode 412 of my ‘Feel Better, Live More’ podcast by clicking on the link in the @drchatterjee bio above or by searching for ‘Dr Chatterjee Mindset Compilation’ in Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, or enjoy wherever you get your podcasts.
#drchatterjee #richroll #feelbetterlivemore
Today marks the 4-year anniversary of this viral tweet, which—according to Instagram’s terms of service—requires me to now share it as a Reel😂
Joke aside, if you are stuck or struggling, expand your timeline, embrace a more patient, long view, and double down on the things that make you feel alive. In time, you just might amaze yourself.
Now on the cusp of 56, I still feel like I’m just getting started. And a life that once felt empty is now one that wakes me up every day enthusiastic about possibility and infused with purpose.
I believe in this possibility for you—so stop waiting. Stop asking for permission. And get into action.
✌🏼🌱 -Rich

Good morning. Good to be back home. Good to get up early. Good to feel good from the other day. Good to feel grateful. Good to be alive. Have a great day.
✌🏼🌱🐢 -r
NYC 📸 by @colebradley25

Good morning. Good to be back home. Good to get up early. Good to feel good from the other day. Good to feel grateful. Good to be alive. Have a great day.
✌🏼🌱🐢 -r
NYC 📸 by @colebradley25

Good morning. Good to be back home. Good to get up early. Good to feel good from the other day. Good to feel grateful. Good to be alive. Have a great day.
✌🏼🌱🐢 -r
NYC 📸 by @colebradley25

Good morning. Good to be back home. Good to get up early. Good to feel good from the other day. Good to feel grateful. Good to be alive. Have a great day.
✌🏼🌱🐢 -r
NYC 📸 by @colebradley25

Good morning. Good to be back home. Good to get up early. Good to feel good from the other day. Good to feel grateful. Good to be alive. Have a great day.
✌🏼🌱🐢 -r
NYC 📸 by @colebradley25

Good morning. Good to be back home. Good to get up early. Good to feel good from the other day. Good to feel grateful. Good to be alive. Have a great day.
✌🏼🌱🐢 -r
NYC 📸 by @colebradley25

Good morning. Good to be back home. Good to get up early. Good to feel good from the other day. Good to feel grateful. Good to be alive. Have a great day.
✌🏼🌱🐢 -r
NYC 📸 by @colebradley25

Good morning. Good to be back home. Good to get up early. Good to feel good from the other day. Good to feel grateful. Good to be alive. Have a great day.
✌🏼🌱🐢 -r
NYC 📸 by @colebradley25

Good morning. Good to be back home. Good to get up early. Good to feel good from the other day. Good to feel grateful. Good to be alive. Have a great day.
✌🏼🌱🐢 -r
NYC 📸 by @colebradley25

Good morning. Good to be back home. Good to get up early. Good to feel good from the other day. Good to feel grateful. Good to be alive. Have a great day.
✌🏼🌱🐢 -r
NYC 📸 by @colebradley25

Good morning. Good to be back home. Good to get up early. Good to feel good from the other day. Good to feel grateful. Good to be alive. Have a great day.
✌🏼🌱🐢 -r
NYC 📸 by @colebradley25
There is always more right with us than wrong. We just have to be willing to look.
Today on the pod, Dr. Paul Conti returns to flip the script on modern psychiatry and ask a more generative question: what's going right?
Watch it on YouTube and listen everywhere you find your podcasts.
Last thing: I've got 5 copies of Paul's new book "What's Going Right" looking for good homes. Giveaway link is in my bio.
Women’s performance has been understudied, underfunded, and misunderstood for too long, and @drstacysims is doing something about it. We had the privilege of joining her and @richroll at his podcast studio for a live conversation covering the science behind how women train, recover, and thrive across every phase of life.
The day started with a morning hike, moved into an outdoor yoga class, and was fueled by a menu featuring Momentous products.
We were grateful to be surrounded by partners and people who are just as invested in this conversation as we are.
The full podcast is live now on YouTube. Link in bio.
How can we not only live longer, but live better? Rich Roll shares how he uses WHOOP as a tool to stay consistent for a longer, stronger life.
Three words that rearrange how you live if you let them: Mood. Follows. Action.
Solo riff on the podcast this week.
Now available on YT and everywhere you listen to the Rich Roll pod. Link in my bio.
We've chased more our whole lives. More options, more freedom, more control.
@davidepstein returns with a new argument: that limits, boundaries, and constraints are the engine of creativity, productivity, and happiness. Not the enemy of them.
New today on the podcast. Listen in all the pod places + watch it on YouTube.

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r

CONSTRAINTS MAKE US BETTER. In honor of @davidepstein returning to the pod today, I thought I’d share thoughts on the thesis of David’s new book INSIDE THE BOX (get it!): limits drive breakthroughs.
As you may know, 1 yr + 4 days ago, I underwent 360 spinal fusion surgery, a 6hr ordeal to resolve a decade of debilitating lower back pain.
The operation was successful. But for the 1st 7 mos, my recovery was limited to walking, testing my patience & mental health while my waistline expanded.
Only at 8 months did I begin to feel stable enough to start a gentle regimen of PT—a 15-minute habit that weeks later expanded to include some light pedaling on my indoor trainer, then the most modest resistance training routine imaginable.
From that day to today (100+ days later), I haven’t missed a day, dropping nearly 40lbs from 207 to 170 while simultaneously building muscle mass along the way.
To hold myself accountable, I decided that every morning I would post a photo of the LED clock in my home gym (h/t Jocko Willink) on IG Stories—with 1 added rule: no 2 photos could be the same.
Having imposed this CONSTRAINT, I assumed I would soon run out of options. Instead, I kept finding new ways to capture this banal moment. My pictures got better and better. Along the way, I rediscovered my love for photography.
On some level, it’s silly. But it mirrors David Epstein’s thesis, which I think is profound—great work demands guardrails as mandatory bedfellows.
Here are some of those images, beginning with my favorite—then back to the beginning to underscore the progression (+ how I improvise on the road).
✌🏽🌱 📸 -r
Today I’ve got @drstacysims on the podcast to discuss perimenopause, heavy lifting, and fueling female physiology.
Recorded live with a studio audience, we challenge the conventional wisdom around fasting, cardio, and calorie restriction.
Listen now on the Rich Roll Podcast + watch it go down on YouTube. LINK IN MY BIO.
Saturday afternoon MANGER mood—live at the Dan
‘To Be in Love’ is the latest from @srimati’s music moniker Manger—check her IG bio for link to full vid on YT + song streaming on all the music platforms.
directed by @fathertrapper (on drums) & _jacob_butler at Dynamic Arts
Plus:
@tylerpiatt @ericjackowitz @careyfrankmusic @visitorcoffeela @dynamicartsnorth @emily_rosenfield @dekeshipp
#mangermusician #mangertheband #americana #tobeinlove
인스타그램 스토리 뷰어는 인스타그램 스토리, 비디오, 사진 또는 IGTV를 비밀리에 보고 저장할 수 있는 간단한 도구입니다. 이 서비스를 통해 콘텐츠를 다운로드하고 언제든지 오프라인으로 즐길 수 있습니다. 인스타그램에서 나중에 확인하고 싶은 흥미로운 콘텐츠를 찾거나 익명으로 스토리를 보고 싶다면, 우리 뷰어가 적합합니다. Anonstories는 신원을 숨길 수 있는 훌륭한 솔루션을 제공합니다. 인스타그램은 2023년 8월에 스토리 기능을 출시했으며, 이 기능은 흥미롭고 시간에 민감한 형식으로 빠르게 다른 플랫폼에 채택되었습니다. 스토리는 사용자가 텍스트, 이모지 또는 필터로 보강된 사진, 비디오 또는 셀카를 공유할 수 있게 해주며, 24시간 동안만 표시됩니다. 이 제한된 시간 동안 높은 참여를 유도하며 일반 게시물보다 더 많은 반응을 얻을 수 있습니다. 오늘날 스토리는 소셜 미디어에서 연결하고 소통하는 가장 인기 있는 방법 중 하나입니다. 그러나 스토리를 볼 때, 제작자는 자신의 뷰어 목록에서 당신의 이름을 볼 수 있으며, 이는 개인 정보 보호에 대한 우려를 일으킬 수 있습니다. 만약 스토리를 아무도 모르게 탐색하고 싶다면? 그때 Anonstories가 유용해집니다. 이 도구는 신원을 드러내지 않고 공개된 인스타그램 콘텐츠를 볼 수 있게 해줍니다. 관심 있는 프로필의 사용자명을 입력하면 해당 프로필의 최신 스토리를 확인할 수 있습니다. Anonstories 뷰어의 특징: - 익명 브라우징: 뷰어 목록에 나타나지 않고 스토리를 볼 수 있습니다. - 계정 필요 없음: 인스타그램 계정에 가입하지 않고 공개 콘텐츠를 볼 수 있습니다. - 콘텐츠 다운로드: 스토리 콘텐츠를 직접 다운로드하여 오프라인에서 사용할 수 있습니다. - 하이라이트 보기: 24시간 제한을 넘어서 인스타그램 하이라이트를 볼 수 있습니다. - 리포스트 모니터링: 개인 프로필의 스토리 리포스트나 참여도를 추적할 수 있습니다. 제한 사항: - 이 도구는 공개 계정에서만 작동하며, 개인 계정은 접근할 수 없습니다. 장점: - 개인 정보 보호 친화적: 인스타그램 콘텐츠를 보면서도 눈에 띄지 않습니다. - 간단하고 쉬움: 앱 설치나 등록이 필요 없습니다. - 독점 도구: 인스타그램에서 제공하지 않는 방식으로 콘텐츠를 다운로드하고 관리할 수 있습니다.
인스타그램 업데이트를 비밀리에 추적하고 개인 정보를 보호하며 익명으로 남을 수 있습니다.
개인 프로필 뷰어를 사용하여 쉽게 프로필과 사진을 익명으로 볼 수 있습니다.
이 무료 도구는 인스타그램 스토리를 익명으로 볼 수 있게 해주며, 스토리 업로더에게 활동을 숨길 수 있습니다.
Anonstories는 사용자가 인스타그램 스토리를 볼 때 제작자에게 알림을 보내지 않도록 합니다.
iOS, Android, Windows, macOS, Chrome, Safari와 같은 최신 브라우저에서 원활하게 작동합니다.
로그인 정보 없이 안전하고 익명으로 브라우징할 수 있습니다.
사용자는 간단히 사용자명을 입력하여 공개된 스토리를 볼 수 있습니다. 계정이 필요하지 않습니다.
사진(JPEG)과 비디오(MP4)를 쉽게 다운로드합니다.
이 서비스는 무료로 제공됩니다.
비공개 계정의 콘텐츠는 팔로워만 접근할 수 있습니다.
파일은 개인적 또는 교육적 용도로만 사용 가능하며 저작권 규정을 준수해야 합니다.
공개된 사용자명을 입력하여 스토리를 보거나 다운로드할 수 있습니다. 서비스는 콘텐츠를 로컬에 저장할 수 있는 직접 링크를 생성합니다.