Treat Your Writing Like Exercise

How to Write More Without Burning Out

We have a habit of thinking that the mind and the body operate differently. That mental effort is somehow not bound by the same rules as the physical.

There is this idea that we should have an unlimited capacity for things that require brainpower. And yet, it makes sense that we might not be able to run continuously for twelve hours straight with no training.

Imagine telling someone who wants to get in shape that they should just put on some shoes and run a marathon on day one. It would be about the worst advice you could give them.

We have an innate understanding that you have to build up your fitness. To get fit, you might have to start with thirty second of running followed by thirty seconds of walking. Or if you go to the gym for the first time, you might start by squatting the empty barbell, rather than throwing a hundred kilos on there.

But when we decide to take writing seriously, we feel we have to put in huge efforts immediately. Two thousand words a day. Two books a year. We think we should arrive as the marathon runner, when, in reality, we start as the couch potato.

Then, when we inevitably fall short, we berate ourselves. We feel lazy or weak.

But we shouldn’t! We should respect our capacity and strive to understand where we’re at RIGHT NOW. Overreaching will only lead to burnout and less time creating in the long run.

Take care of your mind like an athlete takes care of their body

Most of us have other things on. A job, family stuff, other interests. All those things take up time and energy.

We need to understand that all those things affect our capacity to make art.

Athletes know that they need to sleep well, eat food conducive to their sport, hydrate, and recover. Artists often don’t do this. They think their brain should be able to run on fumes.

Why do I keep burning out? Because you’re sleeping 4 hours a night and you haven’t had a drink of water in two days. Plus, you work ten hour shifts and spend all weekend socialising.

Of course, it’s more complicated than that. The point isn’t to stop doing other things you enjoy and start focusing only on your craft. It’s that you should have a little more compassion for yourself. Understand that maybe you don’t have the capacity to do everything. Maybe by doing less, you’ll actually get to a place where you can do more in the future.

It’s also understanding that your brain needs rest, it needs rejuvenation. It can’t run of fumes.

Think like an athlete

You need to think like an athlete. When I first started writing, if I did much more than five hundred words a day, five days per week, I would feel exhausted. It’s taken five years of regular writing to build up to the point where I can do a thousand to fifteen hundred words regularly. That’s normal.

An athlete understands that they aren’t where they could be. That’s why they train. Their deficiencies aren’t failings, they’re opportunities to grow.

Most of us aren’t born with a massive capacity for long, sustained mental effort. We can get there, but we shouldn’t expect it straight away. We have to train up to it.

The mind is part of the body. Expect that it will need time to develop and grow.

Isn’t wanting to do more part of hustle culture?

No! A lot of us want to make more art. Want to put more art out there in the world. It isn’t innately bad to want to do more of something you love.

Hustle culture is when you ascribe moral value to producing more. It’s when you exceed your own capacities and work in an unsustainable way.

You may want to have periods of sustained and intense work because it brings you joy. You may want to up your word count because you love the idea of getting better at your craft. The point is to do it mindfully and stay in touch with what your body needs.

It’s not wrong to want a larger capacity. A larger capacity can let us do more of what we love.

Understand that most of us aren’t born with an unlimited capacity, but, if we treat ourselves more like athletes, we might be able to do a little bit more.