Lightning Strikes
I’m scrolling through social media, and I see a post about a guy who did 100,000 pushups in a year. Amazing. I quickly do the math—that’s 275 a day. I can do that! I’m going to.
I imagine my chiseled chest and bulked up shoulders. This is going to be transformational. I’m fired up for the new challenge. Next thing you know, I’m pumping out my first set. 50 down, 225 to go.
This time, I’m really going to do it.
This burst of excitement is enthusiasm.
The Flame Fizzles
Within days—sometimes hours—the initial energy subsides. I only hit 175 pushups that first day, and 75 the next. Then…
My life-altering project feels silly. It was too ambitious, not worth my time, impractical. And so on.
Like the podcast I was going to start. The garden I designed. The novel I outlined. The business plan I wrote. The new routine.
Each time, the same pattern: Spark, flame, fizzle—smoke and ash.
Each time, the same conclusion: “I’m just not someone who follows through.”
Enthusiasm Is the Spark
When this happens, it doesn’t prove that we’re quitters—just that we’re using the wrong signal to start. We mistook enthusiasm for durable motivation.
Enthusiasm responds to possibility. We read about a 7-minute beach bod workout, and we picture ourselves looking ripped next summer. We see an 80-year-old triathlete, and we imagine reclaiming our youthful vigor. These mental images are powerful—powerful enough to spring us into action.
But enthusiasm doesn’t remind you about your perpetually sore knee, your packed schedule, or that you’re starting at square one. It’s not interested in obstacles. It dreams big without mapping the route. It’s the spark that fires the engine, but you can’t drive a car up a hill on a spark alone.
Sprint or Marathon?
When enthusiasm strikes, pause and ask yourself one question: Is this a sprint or a marathon?
If it’s a sprint—a single task, a one-time action, something you can complete today—let enthusiasm be your fuel. Ride the energy and get it done.
But if it’s a marathon—a long-term goal, a lifestyle change, something requiring sustained commitment—don’t let enthusiasm make the decision. That’s when you need to step back. Let the excitement settle. Then assess: Am I still interested when I’m not excited? Can I see myself doing the unglamorous parts? What’s my plan?
Never decide how much you’ll commit at the peak of enthusiasm.
If you’re having trouble making the distinction between a sprint or marathon, try the 48-Hour Test.
The 48-Hour Test
When enthusiasm strikes, and you’re not sure if you’re dealing with a legitimate long-term change or just excited by the idea of new possibilities, here’s a technique you can try:
- Write down the idea
- List every obstacle you can think of
- Wait 48 hours
- Revisit.
The key here is that you’re not making a classic “Pros and Cons” list. Enthusiasm will cover the pros. You’re trying to offset its allure with a reasoned, considered approach. Use your rational mind to identify challenges your emotional self will ignore.
If, after this exercise, you’re still interested—not just excited, but committed—explore further. If the excitement has faded, you might have just saved yourself from another spark-and-fizzle cycle.
Put It to Use
Enthusiasm is a gift. Welcome it. Enjoy it. It gives us permission to dream big—to imagine what we might become. We just have to learn to recognize it for what it is, and to not let it guide us when it comes to making big decisions.
You’re not a quitter. You’re just responding to the wrong signals. Pay attention to the difference between a spark and an engine—between the energy to start and the fuel to finish.
The next time enthusiasm strikes, you’ll know exactly how to handle it.
As always, thanks for reading. I’m truly happy you’re here.
All the best,
Nate