Written by Zach Grossfeld

Last night, I went out to eat with my friends at Jack Daws in NYC. To make that work, I skipped a workout and ate past my eating window. Normally, that combination would piss me off greatly, but yesterday, it didn’t. Here are my thoughts on why:

Last night, I ate with four of my closest friends at Jack Daw’s in the East Village of NYC. We devoured brussel sprout hash, hummus, tacos, and guzzled a couple of bottles of half-off wine.

We make quite a crew.

I’ll change their names to protect their identities.

One of my friends at the bar, Chris, makes some of the best music I’ve heard. He’ll sell out Terminal 5 one day, but right now, he’s crushing it as an Account Executive at the number one cloud software company on the planet.

Ryan, another friend, knows everything there is to know about retirement planning and investing. He calculates the number he needs to retire daily.

Last night, he informed me that a $2.5 million nest egg with a 7% return (175k per year) fits right in his wheelhouse of passive income.

Today, he’s an executive recruiter at a boutique firm in NYC. Ten years from now, he’ll run the number one retirement planning team in the country, unless he hits his number before then.

All the money I’ll have when I hire Ryan is my financial advisor (10 million not pictured)

Another friend, Phil, a professional baseball player, just qualified to play baseball in the 2020 Olympics. That’s right; I’m best friends with an Olympian. My entire life, I’ve been waiting for this moment to sneak into the Olympic Village and engage in an unforgettable sexual escapade with my best bud.

The last one in the group, but not least, is Jamal.

He’s studying to become a dentist while running a production company for music artists. From start to finish, he’ll record, mix, and master your song while he’s filling in your cavities.

Last night, I tried to convince him to open a half studio, half celebrity dental space where artists like Rick Ross can record a song and then get a quarter-million dollars worth of diamond grills stamped onto their teeth.

After catching up, talking about future endeavors, and planning the next time we’ll see each other, I walked out the door of the bar at 11:57 pm. Typically, I’m lying in bed at 9 pm, passed out at 9:30 pm during the week.

This was a Tuesday night.

I didn’t always, but now I take pride in getting to bed early and waking up early. It bothers me to neglect my bedtime, but for some reason, last night, it didn’t bother me a bit.

I thought about why it didn’t bother me, and I think it’s because I am willing to break my routine, occasionally, for my closest circle.

I get anxious when I break my routine, to the point of having had multiple panic attacks. Being more flexible is something I’m working on.

To grip the shit out of life, the routine sometimes falls by the wayside in favor of new experiences and building deeper bonds.

For me, the three most non-negotiable parts of my routine are:

Morning Meditation
Intermittent Fasting (first meal at 1 pm, last meal at 8 pm)
Working out

Last night, I ate way past my eating window (last bite around 11 pm) and skipped a workout. Six months ago, I would have beat myself up about skimping on my routine, even if it was to see my best friends.

Today, I’m better at saying “no.” I protect my routine intensely. If you aren’t at the top of my list, we can meet up at a point that fits both of our schedules, or else it’ll be another time.

My “non-negotiables” have solidified into true non-negotiables. I don’t safeguard my routine to shut out other people as much as I do it to make my interactions with others as meaningful as possible.

Discipline = Freedom

Freedom = Time To Pursue Your Purpose

Purpose = Happiness

Happiness = More meaningful interactions

Jocko Willink (photo cred: @jockowillnk)

By the transitive property of Jock Willink, discipline in my routine = more meaning with others.

Of course, everyone’s different. Different people have different routines. It’s okay to break your routine for others, but you should only afford that luxury to a tight-knit crew who you care about.

What’s the point of having a routine if you break it for everyone who asks?

So if you’re reading this in bed at 9:37 pm and that co-worker you kind of like just texted you to grab a drink, tell him to fuck off. Just kidding, unless he deserves it for some other reason.

Otherwise, a simple, “Hey, I’m already in bed, but enjoy,” will suffice.

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