Every Thursday morning, I'm rethinking my life choices as I'm pushing my heart rate over 170bpm on my stationary bike. Revolution after revolution, my lungs, heart, and legs are begging me to stop, but I keep fighting them with all I've got.
45 minutes after the Vo2 Max session, I'm exhausted and sweaty, but satisfied and ready to own the day.
After a quick shower, when I return to the dedicated gym room to hang my sweaty clothes, I'm met with a horrible stench. Did I really develop such a sweat during the exercise? How come I've only noticed it now?
The Science of Not Noticing
What I experienced is called "olfactory adaptation" or "nose blindness" – a fascinating biological mechanism where our brain gradually stops registering constant stimuli. During my intense workout, my brain filtered out the developing odor because it was gradual and persistent. Only by leaving and returning could my olfactory receptors reset and detect what had been there all along.
This isn't just about sweaty gym rooms. This same phenomenon happens in our businesses, personal development journeys, and relationships. We become blind to gradual changes, problems that develop slowly, and even opportunities sitting right in front of us.
Business Adaptation Blindness
Consider that business idea you've been nurturing. In the early stages, your vision seems perfect because you've manufactured ideal conditions in your mind. You've become adapted to your own thinking patterns, blind to potential flaws or unexpected challenges.
This is why investors value founders who've stepped away from their initial concepts and returned with refined versions. They know that distance creates clarity that immersion cannot provide.
Breaking Through Personal Plateaus
This adaptation principle explains why most people operate at only 40% of their potential – a concept coined by David Goggins, I frequently emphasize. We quickly adapt to our current effort level, making it feel like our maximum. Only by deliberately stepping away and then returning with fresh awareness can we recognize our untapped capacity.
This is where the stoic practice of voluntary discomfort proves valuable. By intentionally creating distance from our comfort zones, we reset our ability to perceive our true capabilities.
The Jobs Effect: Distance Creates Innovation
When Steve Jobs was forced out of Apple in 1985, his distance from the company he founded became the reset his perspective needed.
During his time leading NeXT and transforming Pixar, Jobs gained experiences and insights that would have been impossible had he remained continuously at Apple. When he returned in 1997, he brought fresh "olfactory receptors" to smell both problems and opportunities that had become invisible to those who remained.
This distance-created clarity fueled Apple's most innovative period, giving us the iPod, iPhone, and iPad – devices that changed how we interact with technology.
The Practice of Deliberate Distance
So how can we apply this wisdom without waiting for life to force distance upon us?
- Schedule perspective resets: Block regular time away from your primary projects – even a few hours can help reset your perceptive abilities.
- Seek external viewpoints: Find people who haven't adapted to your situation and genuinely listen to their fresh observations.
- Change your environment: Physical changes in where you work can trigger mental perspective shifts.
- Document continuously: Keep notes about your projects and review them after taking distance – you'll be surprised what becomes obvious.
The Paradoxical Productivity of Pause
The distance we gain—whether physical, mental, or temporal—allows us to see patterns and possibilities that remain invisible when we're too close to a situation. Like my post-workout realization about the gym's odor or Jobs' transformative period away from Apple, your breakthrough might be waiting just on the other side of a deliberate pause.
What separates exceptional performers from the rest isn't just relentless forward motion—it's knowing when to step back, reset their perceptive abilities, and return with a clarity that was impossible to achieve in the trenches.
This week, I challenge you to find your own version of stepping out of the room. Your nose-blind spots are waiting to be discovered.
