That Which Gets Measured
General principles, philosophies, big ideas… I love all of it.
Truly.
But when it comes to actually changing something in your life?
I find myself coming back to specifics.
Because ideas are inspiring… but numbers tell you what’s actually happening.
Take a few common ones:
Money: Live below your means.
Exercise: Do something daily.
Stuff: Only keep what you love.
All good advice.
But then there’s the other version:
Money: How much did that cost? How much did I make?
Exercise: How many reps? How long? How often?
Stuff: Why do I have 10 of these?
That’s where things start to get real.
For me, it’s always a bit of a push and pull.
I hear an idea, it resonates, maybe even changes how I see things…
And then almost immediately I want to test it.
Measure it.
See what’s actually different as a result.
Let me give you a few examples.
Encore Career… or Not
When I left my corporate role, I had a choice:
Jump back into the game… or embrace time freedom.
I chose time freedom.
But let’s not pretend the money question disappears.
I’ve had serious conversations about roles that would pay somewhere in the $500K to $1M range.
That’s real.
And instead?
I’m writing, recording, rehearsing, and working toward playing live shows.
So what does that look like… in numbers?
Lee and I put a lot into producing our first album and getting the band infrastructure in place.
Return so far?
Streaming revenue: about $10.
Open mic tip jar: $10.
There you go.
Now—this isn’t about the money, right?
Right.
But it’s still useful to see it.
Because otherwise, you’re just operating on a vague sense of progress.
I remember years ago, a friend of a friend tried to get into concert promotion.
His first show cost around $8,000 all-in.
Then he looked into booking The B-52’s.
Minimum cost?
About $75,000—just to secure the band.
That data point was fascinating to me.
Not because I wanted to do it… but because it gave me a reference point.
This is what the game looks like at that level.
Same thing with someone like Hal Elrod.
I’ve heard him talk about his speaking fees—around $30,000 per event.
Call it two days of work with travel.
One to two hours on stage.
That’s not a judgment.
It’s just data.
And once you see the data, you understand the landscape a little more clearly.
Exercise
Same principle.
I took about two weeks off from strength training because of a shoulder issue.
Today, I decided to start back up.
I like pull-ups, chin-ups, side-ups—mostly because they’re hard, and because I had to work for months just to get to 10 in a row.
So this morning, I didn’t overthink it.
I set a 20-minute timer.
Did what I could.
Ended up with 30+ reps in about 15 minutes, with breaks.
Could I have pushed harder?
Yes.
Did I want to?
No.
Because today wasn’t about setting a record.
It was about establishing a baseline.
Now I’ve got something to measure against as I rebuild.
That’s the whole point.
Your Day
This shows up in how you structure your time, too.
I’ve always been fascinated by how people actually spend their days.
Not the highlight reel—the real thing.
You hear about Stephen King writing from 8am to noon every day.
Great.
But what about the other 12–14 waking hours?
That’s the part I’m curious about, too.
I was listening to an episode of the Earn & Invest podcast this week, and the host walked through his day:
Up at 5am.
Light breakfast.
Workout.
Prep for a podcast.
Take his daughter to school.
Write for a couple hours.
Lunch.
Record a podcast.
Edit another one.
Join a mastermind group call.
By the end of it, depending on how you count, he moved about five or six meaningful things forward.
That’s useful to see.
Not to copy—but to understand what a day actually looks like when someone is building something.
So What’s the Point?
Nothing fancy.
Just this:
That which gets measured… becomes visible.
And once something is visible, you can actually work with it.
Without that?
You’re mostly operating on feel.
Which is fine… until it isn’t.
So here’s something simple to try this week:
Pick one thing.
Just one.
Something you say you care about—health, money, creative work, whatever it is.
And measure it.
Not perfectly.
Just consistently.
Give it 30 days.
See what changes.
Because the act of measuring doesn’t just track the game…
It changes how you play it.