When I came back from Nigeria, I had one thing on my mind:
Go all in. Build Afitpilot. Nothing else. No distractions. No excuses.
I cut everything:
- Akwanza — paused.
- Salsa — gone.
- Coaching, blogging, socializing — all on hold.
- Fitness, Spanish, side quests — shelved.
I told myself: “This is my season of focus. I need to give Afitpilot everything.”
The Myth I Bought Into
Like so many solo founders, I’ve read the books—Elon Musk, and Steve Jobs.
They talk about 80-hour weeks, sleeping on the floor, coding till 3am, waking up and doing it again.
So I convinced myself that I had to do the same.
That if I wasn’t working 12 hours a day, then I wasn’t serious.
If I wasn’t exhausted at night, I hadn’t earned it.
If I took a break, I was weak.
I thought I had to sacrifice everything—joy, balance, connection, even my own mind—to make this work.
What Actually Happened
It’s been about a week and a half now since I started building Afitpilot full-time.
And here’s what I’ve faced:
- Cursor going overkill: I gave high-level instructions, and it started rewriting entire files, adding logic I didn’t ask for, and leaving me with code I didn’t understand.
- Back-end overload: I’m managing session logging, database logic, Firebase connections, AI architecture—all at once.
- AI fatigue: I’m constantly testing how the system thinks, adapts, and stores athlete data. It’s creative work and logic work at the same time.
- UX paralysis: Designing the experience in a way that’s intuitive and functional has drained me more than I expected.
- Architecture complexity: Between Vue, Firebase, Firestore, and the real-time adaptive system I’m building, I’ve felt like I’m juggling ten plates while walking a tightrope.
And then… I hit the wall.
Three days of mental saturation. No energy. No motivation.
I couldn’t code. I couldn’t even look at the screen.
I binge-watched eight episodes of Vikings in one sitting.
Not because I wanted to—but because I couldn’t do anything else.
I felt fried. Lonely. Derailed. Missing Paul.
I spent the next few days talking to people just to feel something again.
Because Afitpilot had swallowed all my energy, and I was starting to feel hollow.
The Delusion: All-In Means 12 Hours a Day
This is where I had to face the truth:
Going “all in” isn’t about working 12 hours a day.
It’s about building a system that doesn’t destroy you.
I thought I was being disciplined by cutting out distractions.
But what I really did was cut out everything that kept me human.
And even with all that sacrifice, I still couldn’t code for 12 hours straight.
Because that’s not how the brain works—especially not for deep, creative, technical work.
Most people can only handle 3 to 6 hours of deep work a day. That’s not weakness. That’s neurology.
I hit that wall hard. And I crashed.
Why This Review Matters
This breakdown? It’s not failure. It’s feedback.
This is the checkpoint I needed.
A forced pause.
A reminder that if I keep trying to sprint every day, I won’t make it to the finish line.
So now, I’m choosing to recalibrate.
This next phase won’t be about grinding.
It’ll be about designing a process that’s focused, sustainable, and built for compounding.
The New Roadmap: Focused, Sustainable, Built for Compounding
I’m taking inspiration from founders like Pieter Levels and Jon Yongfook—people who built real, profitable, meaningful products as solo devs, without burning themselves to ash.
Their model isn’t 12-hour death sprints. It’s:
- Simple scope
- Tight execution
- Daily momentum
- Rest as a feature, not a bug
So here’s how I’m approaching Afitpilot going forward:
1. Daily Deep Work Limit: 3–6 Hours Max
That’s my window. I protect it, use it, and respect it. Anything beyond that becomes noise.
2. No More Trying to Build It All at Once
Every day gets a single, tight goal. Backend logic, AI prompt tuning, or UX refinement—but never all three at once.
3. Recovery Is Part of the System
Walks, movement, journaling, intentional stillness. No more numbing with Netflix unless I consciously choose it.
4. Build the Right Thing, Not Everything
The MVP doesn’t need every feature I imagined. It needs to solve one real problem for one real group of people—competitive athletes. That’s it.
5. Measure Progress Weekly, Not Hourly
No more guilt spirals from “unproductive” hours. I track what moves the product forward, not how much time I sat at the keyboard.
Closing
I still believe in Afitpilot with everything I’ve got.
I still want to look back on this season and say, “I gave it everything.”
But now I know:
“Everything” doesn’t mean burning out.
It means showing up, every day, with clarity and focus—and staying in the game long enough to finish it.
This is my reset.
Let’s build.
Leave a Reply